Our Eldest Takes the High School Exam

At the end of August 1967 my husband took our eldest son to enrol at Cheng Kung High School in Taipei and asked whether there was a dormitory nearby. The kind instructor, seeing that my husband was military and not high in rank, knew the family must be poor. He at once directed them to apply for lodging at Taipei Academy and gave them an application form. Father and son were glad and thanked him for the guidance.

Taipei Academy was planned when Mr Chiang Ching-kuo headed the China Youth Corps. One day at Taipei Main Station he saw a high-school student asleep with his satchel and asked him why. The student said he was from out of town, had been admitted to a Taipei school, but the family was too poor to rent a room, so at night he used the station as a dormitory. Mr Chiang went back and soon organised a proper student hostel called “Taipei Academy” for poor students from outside Taipei—rent very cheap. Except for our second child, all four of our children lived at Taipei Academy while studying.

Near the end of the first high-school term, one Sunday I went to Taipei to find my cousin and asked her to take me to my son’s homeroom teacher. My cousin’s husband had moved from teaching at Cheng Kung High School to the provincial symphony orchestra, so he and my son’s teacher had been colleagues and were good neighbours.

Through his introduction I reached the teacher’s home smoothly.

I asked, “The first term is nearly over—are there things we parents should watch for with the boy?” The teacher thought and asked, “Does he have a girlfriend?” I said no. He thought again and said, “He is tall and sits at the back, talks little, as if something is on his mind. His grades are fair—only English is a bit weak. Near your home, men doing military service who are university students—you might find someone to tutor him in English over the summer.” I thanked him. As we left he walked my cousin and me to the door and said, “Mrs Tang, I admire you—busy as you are, coming so far to care how your son is doing at school, and not wanting him to know.” I was embarrassed, said goodbye to him and my cousin, and returned to Laomei by five in the afternoon.

At home I altered clothes; many conscripts brought new uniforms for me to adjust, so I became friends with the young soldiers.

After Taipei I seized chances to chat with those who often came to the house and asked them to find a conscript officer—a university graduate—willing to tutor my son in English twice a week, one hour each time, fee whatever he asked, for I did not know the rate.

Everyone was glad to help. In the end we found a reserve officer serving as guidance officer in the anti-aircraft battery. He agreed to come after supper each evening he was off duty.

Through the two summer months he taught our son English. He told me he would tutor free and take no money: “You have so many children in school—the expenses are heavy. This little help is nothing—please do not take it to heart.” I was so moved I nearly cried.

He reported to his company commander, who allowed him two evenings each week during the holiday, seven-thirty to eight-thirty, to come to the Tangs’ to tutor the first-year boy in English. The commander approved and said, “You are so willing—I certainly allow it, but when time is up you must hurry back for evening roll call.”

We called the reserve officer who came to tutor “Teacher.” To show my thanks, each time he came I prepared some fruit and asked our eldest to eat with him after the lesson. When fruit was finished it was nearly nine; Teacher said goodbye and hurried back for roll call.

Seeing their elder brother eat fruit with Teacher, the two older sisters were grown and said nothing, but the two younger brothers were envious. I saw it and felt sad—I truly could not afford fruit for everyone.

Later this kind reserve officer became my eldest’s senior at university—they attended the same school. The year our eldest graduated from university, he had just finished graduate school. The turns of life are hard to fathom.