那时候我还在读高中，大概是2011、2012年前后。
当时其实很少有人喜欢上政治课，但我们的老师很开明，也很通透。六四纪念日前几天，我跟老师提议，能不能在课上放一部关于天安门事件的纪录片。我提前从 YouTube 上下载好了视频，拷到电脑里，希望能让同学们了解一下那段历史。
老师很爽快地答应了。说，这件事情确实值得大家看一看、了解一下。
到了上课那天，老师对全班说：“今天要放一部纪录片，想看的同学坐到前面来，不想看的同学也没关系，可以坐到后面做自己的事情。”
没有批评，没有强迫，也没有禁止。每个人都可以自己选择。
现在我还是记得那个画面。我觉得那个时候是美好的。至少在那个瞬间，人们还愿意去了解、去讨论一些事情，还相信不同的声音可以被听见。
那是一种让人觉得有希望的感觉。
I was still in high school at the time, around 2011 or 2012.
Back then, not many students were interested in politics classes, but our teacher was open-minded and thoughtful. A few days before the anniversary of June 4th, I asked whether we could watch a documentary about the Tiananmen Square protests and crackdown. I had downloaded it from YouTube and copied it onto a computer, hoping my classmates could learn about that chapter of history.
My teacher agreed without hesitation. He said it was something worth watching and understanding.
On the day of the class, he told everyone: “Today we're going to watch a documentary. If you're interested, sit in the front. If you're not, that's fine—you can sit in the back and do your own work.”
There was no criticism, no pressure, and no prohibition. Everyone was free to make their own choice.
I still remember that scene today. To me, it was a beautiful moment. At least for that brief period, people were still willing to learn, to discuss difficult topics, and to believe that different voices deserved to be heard.
It was the kind of moment that made you feel hopeful.