Middle-class education is downgraded, usually attending public schools domestically and "transferring" to international schools in Thailand during holidays

Last November, jokingly referred to as the "county town wealthy woman," I resigned from my job at a five-star hotel in my hometown, temporarily leaving my family and children to become a Chinese teacher at a bilingual school in Thailand. In "The Determination to Leave of the 'County Town Wealthy Woman'," I shared that my departure was partly due to being tired of the trivialities of marriage and feeling lost working in the county town, wanting to pursue personal development. On the other hand, I also hoped to find a way for my children's education, thinking that once I settled down, I could persuade my family to let my two children attend kindergarten in Thailand, and see if they could follow an international path in the future. During the winter vacation in China, schools in Thailand did not have a break, so I continued teaching in Thailand (the Chinese teacher's classes are not too many, leaving some free time), and unexpectedly helped a friend take on a research project for students during the winter and summer vacations. Adults vacation, children go to school, weekend outings, and also celebrate the Chinese New Year abroad. As the cost-effectiveness of international schools in Southeast Asia declines and the prices of summer camps in Europe and America are daunting, a group of anxious yet pragmatic middle-class parents are actively "downgrading" their choices—giving up the pursuit of expensive international education labels, attending public schools regularly, and instead taking their children to Thailand during winter and summer vacations to broaden their international horizons. The winter vacation has passed, and parents are still reminiscing about their and their children's experience in Thailand, while I was the full-time steward of their journey. This time, I hosted two middle-class families from new first-tier cities in southern China. They have respectable professions and stable incomes, with two children who have been study partners since childhood, but their growth trajectories are completely different. One is a child raised in traditional Chinese education, with parents bringing them out to broaden their horizons; the other has a rich academic experience, and coming to Thailand for a temporary study is a downgrade for them. The parents have different expectations, but their yearning for quality education has never faded. Through nearly a month of close contact, I have glimpsed how "excellent kids" grow up and reflected on how I should educate my own children. Of course, I also saw anxious middle-class individuals (including myself, whose economic situation is far from superior) who are cautiously yet firmly searching for a feasible path for their children's future. Kangti Editor | Zhang Qingsong Operation | Taro "Come back next year" "This is a letter from my best friend to me, this is from my science teacher, look here, there's a Science heart." On the way to Suvarnabhumi Airport, a little girl named Kaixin from the study group pointed to the "temporary class album" and introduced it to me page by page. I teased her that she had made a best friend in just a month, and she said yes, they are very close. While speaking, she rummaged through her backpack to show me various snacks, small cards, and gifts from her classmates, indicating that this trip was quite fruitful ▲ A message book written by Thai elementary school students for Kaixin. Photo / Provided by the narrator After saying goodbye to everyone, we can finally breathe a sigh of relief. The two families, five people, have spent nearly a month in Thailand for a study tour. The children’s schooling issues and the parents’ living issues made me and my friend Xiao Yang feel like 24-hour babysitters, always on call. During the day, I had to attend classes at school and be responsible for picking up the children after school; after Xiao Yang finished work, he would take over arranging the children’s after-school activities. On weekends, we also had to take the children on trips around the area; today we visited ancient buildings, and tomorrow we would go on an island trip. Sometimes, when the parents and children suddenly wanted to visit nearby temples or get massages, we had to accompany them and translate. The schedule was packed. This was my first time hosting a study tour group in Thailand. Coincidentally, last year I came to Thailand from my hometown to be a Chinese teacher, and just as I arrived, my friend Xiao Yang opened a Chinese training institution. In my spare time, I helped them with publicity. We are college classmates, and he has been a teacher in Thailand for many years. He helped me get settled by recommending several schools. In January this year, just after the winter vacation started, a friend learned that Xiao Yang's business had opened and asked if we would take on a "new project." She had an acquaintance who wanted to send their child to a winter camp at an international school in Chiang Mai. She trusted us and wanted us to quickly come up with a plan to "cut in." First, it was convenient to take care of the children since it was someone she knew, and second, she knew our prices would definitely be cheaper, wanting to save money for the parents. This time, there were a total of three children in the group. A 10-year-old girl, Kaixin, came over alone first, and her dad joined her the following week. The two brothers, 10-year-old Xiaoliang and 5-year-old Xiaowei, were accompanied by their dad. The main focus was on the two 10-year-old children, while Xiaowei, being younger, played with his dad. This was my first time hosting a study tour, and there were some hiccups. The bilingual school’s program that Xiao Yang contacted advertised as being fully in English, but upon arrival, we found out that not all courses were taught in English. To make up for this, we specifically hired two Thai university students to play with the children every weekend, and they had to speak English. Since our prices were really low, the parents didn’t mind. ▲ Taking the children to "chase stars" at a mall in Bangkok on the weekend. Photo / Provided by the narrator The parents indeed saved money. The day after sending the children off, Xiao Yang calculated the expenses, and it turned out we didn’t make any profit from this deal. The fees for the two children’s enrollment, school bus transportation, and the apartment rent for both families were all reimbursed without extra charges; we only charged one family a service fee of 2,500 yuan. Coincidentally, during the first week in Bangkok, I ran into friends from home who were visiting, so I took the opportunity to invite them to join us, and the cost of meals and boat rides just about used up what we earned; during the second week, coinciding with the Spring Festival, the parents invited us to have a reunion dinner, but I had other plans and politely declined. After declining, I felt a bit embarrassed, so I spent extra money hiring a very fluent Ukrainian foreign teacher to accompany them for dinner, and the parents were very happy In the third week, I experienced golf and tennis lessons at a world-class venue, with a coach who is a retired coach from the Thai national team, charging by the hour per person. Since I was there and my friend wanted to join, I paid out of my own pocket, which just about offset what I earned. After deducting the extra expenses for food and drinks for the kids, the fuel costs for Xiao Yang's free pick-up and drop-off, and farewell gifts, it turned out to be a futile effort. He lamented that working as a customer service representative and local guide for a month earned him less than a day's translation work for a Chinese factory. I comforted him to take it easy, to start with the end in mind, to run through the process, and to accumulate experience. Your research project will eventually lead to big orders and big profits. He seemed unenthusiastic, but hopefully. ▲ Participating in the temple fair near Wat Maha That together. Photo / Provided by the narrator In contrast, the parents were quite satisfied, feeling that their trip was not enough even after returning home, and they continued to enthusiastically review photos in the group every day. Although two mothers did not come along, they observed the entire research trip in the group. Xiao Liang and Xiao Wei's mothers were particularly excited and proactively suggested that we could come again before the elementary school graduation. Kai Xin's mother even privately thanked me for my tolerance and understanding towards the children. She told me that the travel stories I shared with Kai Xin on the way to Koh Samui were recounted to her in detail after returning home. She mentioned that she had also dreamed of traveling around the world when she was young, but later got caught up in work and life. "You may not know how much these experiences impact the children. The butterfly has already flapped its wings; we just need to wait for the flowers to bloom." The little girl's mother, being a leader, spoke in a way that stirred my heart. Alternative International Education Xiao Yang thanked me for my foresight in opening up a new business avenue for them. I said it was also a stroke of luck; I had often come across various study abroad institutions, personal agents, and official school study camps on Douyin, and casually suggested he add study tours and school visits to his business scope, not expecting there would actually be demand. I checked the data, and indeed, short-term study tours in Thailand have seen explosive growth in recent years. According to a summer report released by Trip.com, the number of overseas study tour participants is expected to grow by about 120% in 2024, with popular destinations including Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, and other Southeast Asian countries. ▲ Several international schools' business vehicles were parked at the airport to pick up the children participating in the study tour. Photo / Provided by the narrator Unlike in China, Thailand is located in the tropics, with an academic year divided into three terms, and the class schedule coincides perfectly with the winter and summer vacations in China. Therefore, many teachers I know choose to come here for their doctoral studies during the winter and summer vacations, with some even bringing their children along Children can enroll in classes during the holidays, allowing adults to study and children to attend school without any conflicts. It is not necessary to enroll in international schools; Thailand's international schools are mainly concentrated in Bangkok and Chiang Mai, which are quite far from the schools that teachers want to "water" their PhDs, making it inconvenient for supervision. They will choose nearby private bilingual schools instead. The tourism industry is the pillar industry of Thailand, and English is the second language for everyone. With tourists from all over the world filling the streets, the English proficiency of Thais is higher than that of Chinese people. With visa-free convenience, affordable costs, and an all-English environment, Thailand has become an alternative for international education that middle-class families in China can achieve without too much struggle. ▲ Many parents choose to take their children to Thailand for the holidays. Image / Screenshot from Xiaohongshu A friend told me that as long as children attend for one or two semesters, their English and Thai can be fluent enough to communicate with local children, and the younger they are, the more obvious the effect. Hearing this made me excited. Ever since I returned home for New Year's and saw that my in-laws and husband were firmly against me taking the children to Thailand, I stopped insisting and began looking for alternative solutions. This year, someone happened to inquire about holiday enrollment, and I thought—if this path works out, I could often take the children back and forth. After discussing with my husband, he finally did not oppose this time. With the right timing, location, and people, the three of us, who had never done business before, were so excited that we couldn't sleep, working overnight on the project plan, making proposals, and writing contracts, taking each step very seriously. Everything progressed smoothly; the parents signed the contract without hesitation after reading it. While we admired their decisiveness, we also realized that the heart of doing business indeed requires repeated negotiation to be worthwhile, and at that moment, we even felt a sense of regret about whether the pricing was too low. The short-term enrollment projects of Sino-Thai international schools in the market charge between 20,000 to 35,000 RMB for two weeks, and parents flock to them. During the winter and summer vacations, children studying abroad travel to Thailand in groups, flying in one plane after another. In contrast, our nearly month-long study and living expenses only totaled 20,000 RMB, including enrollment fees, accommodation, round-trip airfare, and transportation, with only 5,000 RMB service fee charged for both families, which is indeed very cost-effective. Liangliang's dad chose to come to Thailand with us because of the cost-effectiveness. He told me that last winter vacation, he took two kids to Europe for a week, costing over 10,000 RMB per person. The same amount of money in Thailand can allow the whole family to study and play for a month. Two types of families, why they came During my interactions with the children, I was often amazed. I was surprised by their eloquence and performance, completely devoid of any childlike awkwardness, communicating with adults confidently and calmly. They dared to ask for directions and buy things alone, using sign language if their English was insufficient, showing no signs of shyness. Their choice of words also indicated a wide range of reading. Liangliang was like a walking history and military expert; listening to him speak was like attending a seminar. When we arrived at the famous Mahathat Temple, I explained to the children how the Burmese used the moat to capture Siam's Great City, and he quickly responded by citing the Mongolian army, which cut off supplies to break through Xiangyang after six years of resistance; I casually remarked that the phone signal in Thailand is poor, and he disagreed, saying that Thailand has satellites, including the world's first high-throughput broadband communication satellite... Kai Xin and Liang Liang have been study partners since childhood, living in the same community. They have taken foreign language classes together and done homework together. However, their paths of growth are completely different: Kai Xin has always attended public schools, progressing step by step; Liang Liang has gone through international schools and bilingual education, ultimately returning to public school. This divergence reflects the deep differences in family background and educational philosophy, which have subtly shaped the distinct personalities and perspectives of the two children. The little girl is a typical "domestic area child from another family." She attends a key primary school in the region, which has quotas and pathways for direct admission to the top 100 high schools in the country. In the first week, her father couldn't take time off to come, so I accompanied Kai Xin while she temporarily stayed in the apartment, and I discovered that she is very self-disciplined. Without a mobile phone, she communicates with her family only through a location-tracking smartwatch, and she has not been exposed to social media like Xiaohongshu or Douyin. Every night before bed, she records her daily life and reads for half an hour, showing a strong sense of order. When I casually asked about her grades, she replied calmly—she had nearly perfect scores in the fourth grade and is now the class monitor, with scores in all subjects stable above 95. I understood immediately; she is a classic top student from a strong educational city, no wonder her parents are so at ease. Her parents work within the system, being considerate and warm in their dealings. Under their influence, the child is also very sensible and even perceptive. When I first met her and offered to treat everyone to milk tea, she repeatedly waved her hands to decline, saying her father told her not to take advantage of others; every time I gave her a small gift, she would immediately think of a way to reciprocate so that I wouldn't lose out. ▲ After school, the children swim in the public pool of the apartment. Photo / Provided by the narrator Every year during winter and summer vacations, she follows her parents' arrangements to attend tutoring classes, summer camps, and visit her grandmother's house. This research trip was also decided by her father based on a relative's suggestion. In our conversations, I found that even in stable and enviable families working within the system in big cities, the information within their fixed circles is relatively closed. Her father is curious about everything, asking what qualifications are needed to teach abroad, what the local pathways for further education in Thailand are like, and after learning that many Chinese families transfer to international schools before going to Europe and America, he asked what they study, what skills they focus on developing in children, and how to apply to certain universities. While asking, he also recorded notes on his phone, expressing that it really is necessary to come out and see for oneself, that it’s not in vain. Their family feels that raising their child under the traditional domestic path is like replicating their own life, and they hope to broaden their child's international perspective through this transfer, allowing the child to see more of the world. In contrast, Liang Liang, who is in the same school but a different class from Kai Xin, has had a more tumultuous growth path. He attended an international school in kindergarten, then transferred to a bilingual school, switched from bilingual to public school, and is now re-entering the "international" system through a transfer, which seems more like a way to fill the gap in international education, representing a more rational and compromise-driven choice under various realities Liangliang's dad runs a small company with stable income and flexible working hours, making him the main caregiver at home. Every year during the winter and summer vacations, he takes the kids out. The two children have a rich material life, are well-traveled, and often mention things like "we played with this in Switzerland" or "this was bought by mom in France." Along the way, I noticed that their father-son relationship is like that of friends; no matter how outlandish the child's ideas are, the dad responds. The little boy helps his classmates buy blind boxes, and the dad suggests he pre-sell them on social media, so he can buy them with cash later. If the child doesn't want to attend class, he doesn't have to; the dad takes him to experience riding a steam train and shooting. ▲ Image / "Little Couples" Upon learning that I also wanted to take my child out, he enthusiastically introduced me to a friend who accompanies students in Chiang Mai. He mentioned that the school has few Chinese students and a high degree of internationalization, suggesting I consider it. After a pause, he changed the subject and advised me to be cautious, saying that once a child enters an international school, they embark on an "irreversible path," with energy, finances, and life planning being completely different. I must think it through before starting; otherwise, it would be very difficult to turn back. He didn't elaborate on how difficult it would be, but Liangliang is indeed a very individualistic child. It was only later, during my interactions with the child, that I truly understood what "difficult to turn back" meant— On one hand, Liangliang is full of curiosity and asks endless questions about everything. The barrage of questions made me sweat; it was the first time I felt nervous in front of an elementary school student. On the other hand, he is also quite "rebellious" and has strong opinions. I suggested the kids keep a small notebook to record different things that happen each day. The little girl obediently complied, taking notes and planning itineraries, while the little boy shook his head, saying, "I can remember it in my head; I don't like writing diaries, and I never write essays at school." When I asked him what the teachers at school thought about that, he said, "I have the right not to answer your question." When planning the itinerary for the last week, which included going to an island, I asked if he was looking forward to it, and he replied, "I've been to Thailand three times already; what's there to be excited about..." Our conversations often ended with me being left speechless. Kaixin noticed my embarrassment and often came over to comfort me quietly. Both children are far more outstanding than their peers. I questioned myself about whether I wanted my child to be a more likable and socially adaptable person or a sharp-edged yet capable individual. I had no clear answer, as it seemed that neither type of education was right or wrong. However, in the school, a small social community, many aspects would be magnified infinitely. Their experience of joining the class was completely different. ▲ Image / "Hello, Old Times" Chinese Faces in a Pure Thai Elementary School The school we found for the children to join is a local private school, located right across from the middle school where I teach. It was founded by a Thai woman who returned from studying in the United States and has a history of over 50 years. The school's feature is trilingual education in Chinese, English, and Thai, with students primarily coming from local middle-class families and very few foreign children being admitted When we contacted the school to borrow a place for a month, the school was very welcoming, and the vice principal personally received us. They probably calculated that two foreign elementary school students had arrived in their small county, which definitely made them feel "internationalized," so everyone from top to bottom was particularly positive and attentive. ▲ Local private school, fifteen-year consistent system. Photo / Provided by the narrator The reason for choosing this place is simple: first, it is close to me and convenient for care; second, its English program runs from kindergarten to the third year of junior high school, and the fees are not expensive, amounting to about three to four thousand yuan for a semester, which is the same price for one month. The Chinese teacher I partnered with also plans to bring her child to study next semester. Unexpectedly, after the first day of class, the children said that the teacher spent half of the time speaking Thai, which they could not understand at all. They could only barely guess the content of subjects like math, English, physical education, and experiments. They could guess because the fifth-grade math here is what they learned in second grade, so they could understand it. What surprised me was that although their English foundation was much better than that of their peers in China, it was still not enough to fully keep up with the teacher's lessons, and their classmates were much stronger than them. Even the foreign teachers hired here are from underdeveloped regions like the Philippines and Sri Lanka. Not wanting to attract too much attention by following the foreign teachers' classes, the two children could only barely listen to three out of six classes each day, using Thai class time to do winter vacation homework or sleep. Fortunately, the parents did not delve into the details of "international education" and "bilingual education" in the contract, as it was all about the experience, and they thought whatever they could learn was fine. Later, Xiao Yang and I reviewed the situation and estimated that the price was indeed cheap, and our attitude was good, so the parents did not feel comfortable questioning the details in the contract. However, to be fair, the children really did not learn much. In terms of the education system, Thailand is very different from us. The educational philosophy, classroom atmosphere, and evaluation system all have completely different logic from that in China. Elementary school students in China have a solid foundation, memorizing ancient poems, doing arithmetic, and learning English, with strong pressure resistance; whereas in Thailand, there is more emphasis on happy education and experiential activities. For example, in our school, every week there is either a sports day, scouting, autumn outing, open day, or various competitions, with only three and a half days of actual class time. Many students actively participate in activities, and during sports day, they can "hand-roll" a formation cannon, but when it comes to exams, they are clueless. ▲ Thai students celebrating World Children's Day. Photo / Visual China Only a small number of elite families are striving to push their children. Besides attending classes, I also work part-time as a Chinese teacher in a nearby mall. Those children come from surrounding international schools, have good English, and are also very focused on Chinese. Some children start learning HSK Level 2 at the age of four or five, while our school's first-year students in the Chinese major have barely passed the HSK Level 2 exam, and this is still the top-ranked public school in the entire province, not to mention the other ordinary schools Kai Xin and her classmates' school is of average level, with foreign teachers and much better hardware facilities than public schools. They provide lunch and have school buses for transportation. If compared to their schools in China, it is a world of difference. Kai Xin describes the meals here as akin to those for children in mountainous areas, with only one dish, while schools in China serve three dishes and a soup each time; after school in China, they can choose various after-school care options, and she personally enjoys the drama club and crafts, even making an Indian sari by hand; whereas in Thailand, once school is over, it's free time with no homework. The only advantage of the school is that everyone is friendly and kind, and the teachers are gentle like friends, unlike the somewhat serious teachers in China who are hard to approach. Perhaps the principal has instructed them to pay special attention to the few children who have come from afar. Every day, they send us videos of the children's classroom performance and interactions, providing real-time updates on the children's classroom situation. Kai Xin has made a close friend, and both of them like Hermione from Harry Potter, playing together every day and actively participating in class. ▲ Image / "Good Things" However, Liang Liang has not integrated well. He appears lethargic and feels that everyone is too childish, looking down on playing with them. This disdain is evident on his face, and the photos taken of him show no smiles; he rarely moves around after class and hardly communicates with his classmates. When I asked him what it was like at his previous international school, he honestly replied that he couldn't remember clearly because he was too young. I said that his English should have been good since he was little, and he said that was only true for when he was very young, and now that he has returned to this school, he has forgotten everything. I believe him. His experience is almost identical to that of a friend's child from Guangdong. Years ago, my friend's husband sent their child to an international school in Russia for a while for business reasons. At that time, I saw her posts on social media, and the child pronounced Russian letters correctly, even rolling their "r"s well, actively participating in activities, and having a great time playing with a group of "foreign dolls," which made everyone envious even through the screen. But then the pandemic broke out, and the family had to rush back to China. Their business was affected, and the whole family moved back to their hometown from the Pearl River Delta, and the child could only transfer to a public school. Within less than a year, without a language environment, their Russian gradually became rusty; in the new class, there were too many students for the teacher to manage, and he rarely received attention. The child, who used to focus in class, now couldn't sit still for more than 15 minutes, constantly fidgeting, and the teacher provided feedback multiple times. The child increasingly resisted going to school, crying every morning when getting up, repeatedly saying that this school was not fun and that they wanted to go back to St. Petersburg. For a while, they would throw tantrums upon returning, making my friend so angry that she considered sending the child to a place to cure internet addiction. Although Liang Liang's father did not elaborate on why he transferred back to a public school or how the child "couldn't adjust," it is not hard to speculate that they likely experienced a similar path. In recent years, with the economic downturn, many middle-class families have become more focused on cost-effectiveness in education. Liang Liang, at such a young age, has transferred schools multiple times, and after experiencing different environments, he is likely confused and struggling to accept it. I find that he is inherently very lonely Anxious Middle Class, Always Seeking a Path for Their Children Since updating my daily routine of my children attending classes in Thailand on my social media, I often receive inquiries from friends on WeChat. One of my initial reasons for coming to Thailand was to leverage my teaching experience to switch to an international school, enjoy employee benefits, and bring my children here for their education. However, I found it quite challenging in practice. Private, public, and international schools represent different educational systems. Especially the latter two, which are completely separate systems. After the pandemic, most teachers were unable to come out, and while it was easier for Chinese teachers to switch between schools, applying for international schools now requires relevant qualifications and over three years of experience with IB or A-Level courses. A friend of mine even pursued a bilingual master's degree specifically to apply for her child's schooling. Additionally, the regular annual tuition increase of 5% for international schools in Thailand over the past few years, the approximately 20% annual turnover rate of teachers in places like Chiang Mai, and the dilution of the English environment due to the influx of Chinese students have made families that were initially interested become increasingly cautious. After observing the experiences of Liangliang and my friend's child, I gradually began to view this "obsession" more rationally: what I truly want is for my child to grow up easily, have solid English skills, and possess the ability to learn independently. Is there really only one path to achieve this? My child can barely speak fluently now; can our current considerations keep pace with future changes? ▲ Thai elementary school students on their way home. Photo / Visual China My friend from Guangdong is equally anxious. Upon seeing my social media post, she eagerly came to consult me, wanting to bring her child over for an experience. I asked her if her child still enjoys studying. She waved her hand and said not to mention it. Last year, her husband transferred their child to a school that emphasizes innovative education, with an annual tuition of 120,000 yuan. I was curious about what innovative education meant, and she explained that it involves mixed-age teaching and does not follow conventional routes. The children are made to do chores every day, such as washing clothes, cooking, and cleaning the dormitory, leaving very little time for academic learning. The principal claims to be a "modern educator," with the philosophy of first cultivating children to be independent before discussing learning. Over 30 children live together in an ancient house at the school, and recently the school organized a hiking trip to Haba Snow Mountain. I asked if her child had made any progress, and she smiled wryly: as long as they are not sitting at a desk studying, they are happy doing anything; at least they can now take care of themselves. Listening to her, I couldn't help but reflect: indeed, most Chinese parents are like this, unable to see a clear direction for the future, yet always compelled to do something to combat their anxiety and confusion. In contrast, in the Kai Xin family, the parents' expectations for their child's education have never been "excessive." They expect their child to study hard, attend university, and find a good job. Both of her parents come from ordinary rural families and only got married in their 30s after working hard to establish themselves in a new first-tier city. Her father has risen through the ranks at his workplace, hoping his child writes more. After hearing about my work experience, he encourages his child to learn from me, asking her to submit a diary for my feedback every day. Colleagues at their workplace are also competing with each other, and even before returning home, many are waiting for him to share his experiences, hoping to send their own children out next year For them, studying abroad feels more like a window to the world, treated like a summer camp. After the summer camp ends, they still have to return to normal life. Some subtle changes have genuinely occurred. This journey also allowed Kai Xin's father to see more possibilities in life. He encountered a couple who had come barefoot from Dali, braving the scorching sun and carrying their belongings to venture far away. He sincerely admired them and quietly planted the seed of a world trip in his heart, even asking me what certificates he would need to become a teacher in Thailand. ▲ The last week together traveling to an island. Photo / Provided by the narrator There have also been subtle changes in Liang Liang's family. Liang's father, who has always advocated respecting his child's wishes, surprisingly reminded Liang Liang in front of me before the trip that he must complete a travel journal to submit to the teacher. Later, when Liang's father took his younger brother to get a tax refund, I seriously asked Liang Liang if he was happy during this journey and if he gained anything. This time, he did not sharply retort me but simply said that school was easy, fun, and stress-free. Interestingly, his favorite class was the French petanque, which we all thought had the lowest cost-performance ratio—standing outside the line and throwing metal balls into a dirt pit, not much different from us throwing stones when we were kids. Perhaps what children need is never the exhaustive planning of their parents, but rather carefree happiness. The article is original to Daily People, and infringement will be pursued.