Campus Life From A Child’s Eye

The slanting golden light of late afternoon paints warm rectangles across the room, the kind of light that makes everything look softer, smoother, even Xiao Xiong’s fluffy hair. It’s just past five, and a little while ago, Xiao Xiong, Ms. Rena’s six-year-old son, had just returned from school. Standing next to Ms. Rena, he had a face that seemed too small for the open curiosity of childhood—his eyes wide and dark akin to gleaming river stones, his smile a flash of tiny, slightly crooked baby teeth.

 Ms. Rena with her son at school exhibition

When asked whether he enjoyed living on campus, Xiao Xiong considered this gravely, then leaned into Ms. Rena’s side, his words a secret pressed into the curve of her neck. “He says yes,” she relayed a moment later, her own smile crinkling the corners of her eyes, “He enjoys playing with the big kids.” She even listed several names with admiration and almost gratefulness in her voice, and her usual soft-spoken nature makes it difficult to not believe her. As a consent, Xiao Xiong nodded shyly.

“Personally, I wouldn’t worry about him living on campus,” Ms. Rena continued, “Pao students are always very friendly. They say hello to him, play with him. The communal bonds at this school—how everyone knows each other and watches out for each other—makes it a safe and familiar place to live.” Xiao Xiong has some regular playmates too: Ms. Echo’s daughter Yiyi, Ms. Lisa’s daughter Annalise, Ms. Alisa’s daughter… Even surrounded by seniors, he would never wind up feeling lonely here.

 Xiao Xiong doing handcraft

When asked if they faced any logistics issues currently, Xiao Xiong bravely interjected: “I know our screen door is broken!” Even his protest was half-hearted, his seriousness undercut by the way his fingers pluck at his shirt hem, restless even in complaint.

Ms. Rena laughed. “Yes, the screen door. When the weather gets hotter, there are mosquitoes in the room.”

Unfortunately, Ms. Rena had misunderstood him. “That’s not what I meant!” Xiao Xiong wailed softly, and upon hearing this, his mother, surprised, leaned closer to listen to what he had to say. “The…the sound…” He stammered, fumbling his small hands to make out the shapes of his ideas.

“Slow down, slow down. Don’t be anxious.” Ms. Rena put a hand on his shoulder.

“The sound when the door is half-opened…” Though I could barely make out Xiao Xiong’s voice, Ms. Rena understood.

“A-ha. He’s talking about the squeaking sound of the screen door that happens every time.” Ms. Rena translated patiently, each word wrapping around her son’s little mind like a well-worn blanket.

“Are there other aspects of facilities you would like to talk about?” As I asked, Xiao Xiong stared at me, wide-eyed, and turned to his mother as if seeking some invisible protection from being interviewed.

“I would say the facilities across campus are generally pretty good.” Ms. Rena, sensing Xiao Xiong’s shyness, once again saved her son from the nerve-wracking interview questions. “You know, the swing, the sandpit. A lot of them are accessible for children, in the playground and the playroom within the school in the corridor next to residential Houses. If you ask about areas of improvements…perhaps a reading corner would be better. Somewhere quiet for the children to curl up with books.” In between her slow, steady cadences, I could almost see Xiao Xiong, with his blue T-shirt, reading quietly with a comic in hand in the same unhurried manner.

Xiao Xiong made a face when I asked about the cafeteria food. Under the “go on, say something” encouragement from Ms. Rena, he mumbled faintly, “It’s…fine.”

“He loves the hamburgers,” Ms. Rena shrugged, chuckling, “Being an adult, I prefer him to eat something lighter-flavored.”

When asked if the school gave adequate attention to the daily life of staff and their children, Ms. Rena did not hesitate. “We’re already grateful enough for everything the school offers. You students obviously should be the priority and purpose of the school—it’s already a huge welfare benefit for us to live here. Xiao Xiong once boasted he would like to live here for ten years! Xiao Xiong, didn’t you?”

Xiao Xiong grinned sheepishly and gave a brief nod.

As the interview ended, Ms. Rena thanked me and gathered their things with quiet efficiency, her movements smooth and unhurried as usual. Xiao Xiong tugged at her sleeve, already buzzing with plans for the evening.

And so, that was a child’s measure of home, the rarest kind of belonging—a community holding him gently, just as his mother does. Here at a school campus, he would have found a unique but also utterly secure childhood, like something from a storybook, yet wonderfully real.