Support 250 children in joining the summer program

Thank you for your donation. We would like to share a heartwarming article written by our on-site teachers with you:

The Student Who Made Me Raise Both Hands in Surrender

(A-Zhe) was a tough and guarded child. He entered a blended family in first grade, moving in with his mom, stepfather, and younger siblings. With most of the attention focused on the younger children, A-Zhe—who deeply needed love and recognition—was often left behind in the shadows.

Every teacher who had taught him shared a similar feeling:
A-Zhe, repressed and neglected at home, often sought attention at school through disruptive or noticeable behavior. It was his way of making sure he wasn’t invisible.

As his homeroom teacher for third and fourth grade, I began with high hopes—wanting to build a trusting and positive relationship with him. But over time, that hope was drowned out by constant conflict: verbal defiance, confrontations, emotional explosions. I found myself eventually raising both hands in defeat, saying, “I admit it—I can’t get through to him. I can’t teach him anymore…”

Even in those moments of discouragement, I kept trying—searching for ways to connect, to cooperate. But after countless strategies and approaches, nothing really worked. The ongoing friction wore down my empathy, drained my patience, and left us both locked in a daily tug-of-war, a cycle of mutual resistance and emotional exhaustion.

True Acceptance Begins with Admitting I’m Just Ordinary

Every day, I tried to convince myself—through sheer willpower—not to lose my passion and original intention. But I eventually learned the hard truth:
Love and acceptance can’t be given through willpower alone. The more I tried to force myself to “hang in there,” the less I was able to truly see A-Zhe’s strengths. I was only seeing his flaws, then forcing myself to tolerate them, forgive them, overlook them.

These internal battles pushed me to the edge. It all came to a head in the first semester of fourth grade, when I felt like I had hit rock bottom—as if I had failed completely and no longer deserved to be A-Zhe’s teacher. But in the middle of that dark moment, I was reminded of something in my faith: Even when I feel like I’m worthless and broken, my Heavenly Father still loves me. He sees me as precious and reminds me to believe in myself.

Only then did I begin to realize that I couldn’t rely on willpower alone to care for and accept a child. We are emotional, limited beings. We’re not superheroes. And it’s only when I truly accepted my own limitations—that I’m just an ordinary person—that I could begin to understand what real love and acceptance looks like.

Real love doesn’t mean being perfect. It means knowing that even when we feel undeserving, we are still deeply loved—and that’s what gives us the courage to embrace someone like A-Zhe, with all his visible and invisible struggles.

Seeing the Real A-Zhe After Letting Go

"Teacher, can I skip nap time today?"
"Why don’t you want to sleep? I thought you liked napping—you always fall asleep so fast and sleep so soundly!"
"I just… don’t want to close my eyes! I don’t want to sleep!"
By the time he said that, tears were already spilling down his cheeks. The hardened mask he usually wore completely crumbled at that moment.

"Can you tell me why you don’t want to nap today?" I asked gently.
"Well… it’s because… my mom started working night shifts at the convenience store recently. And she always leaves right when I’m about to go to sleep. I feel so scared at home… like if I close my eyes, she’ll disappear forever..."

Even the toughest hearts still need to be loved.A-Zhe is exactly that kind of child.

In those two years, our clashes were a weekly routine—never-ending. But those two years were also filled with moments that now live warmly in both our hearts. Despite all the storms, we created something unforgettable together.

Thank you again for your support. Your contribution is the best support for every TFT teachers.