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What helps a child believe they can try?

What gives them the courage to say, “I want to try”?
And what role does a teacher play in that moment?

Today, we would like to share a reflection from TFT alumnus Hong-Jie Zhang, who served as a homeroom teacher in Yunlin County. His journey into teaching began long before he entered the classroom.

From Social Worker to Teacher

Before stepping into education, Hong-Jie worked as a social worker supporting children placed in foster care. Many of them carried deep uncertainty and trauma. It often took a long time for them to understand what they were going through, and even longer to begin rebuilding trust in themselves.

During those years, one thought kept returning to him:
“I wish I could stay with these children a little longer—long enough for them to believe in themselves.”

That hope gradually grew into a vision: to accompany children as they discover who they are, recognize their own effort and growth, and find the courage to become the adults they want to be.

With that belief, Hong-Jie joined Teach For Taiwan and began his journey as a teacher.

Letting Go of the “Right Answer”

The class he inherited included several students whom others had already labeled as “troublemakers.” They were energetic, mischievous, and unpredictable.

Yet the more time he spent with them, the more he realized something deeper.

Were they behaving well simply because a teacher demanded it?
Or did they truly understand why their choices mattered?

This question stayed with him—especially when thinking about one girl in the class.

Seeing the Child Behind the Struggle

This girl had vivid dreams for her future. When she talked about them, her eyes sparkled.

But she also acted impulsively at times, making choices that confused adults around her. Watching her struggle, Hong-Jie once caught himself thinking, “She shouldn’t be like this.”

Then another question emerged:
What does it mean to say a child “should” be a certain way?

What did she truly want?
What did she truly need?

That moment became a turning point.

Returning Choice to Children

Instead of giving fixed answers, Hong-Jie began returning choices to his students.

Together, they practiced noticing their emotions and reflecting on their desires. He invited them to ask themselves:

What do you really want to do?
How much effort are you willing to give for it?

At first, many students felt uncomfortable with the idea of choice. Some doubted they were capable. Hong-Jie prepared himself to respect their decisions—even if they chose to give up.

But something unexpected happened.

“Teacher, I Want to Try.”

One day, a student looked at him and said:

“Teacher, I want to try.”

“Are you sure?” Hong-Jie asked. “This will be challenging.”

“I want to try!”

Soon another student said the same thing.
Then another.

Slowly, “I want to try” became a shared language in the classroom.

They were no longer responding just to please their teacher.
They were choosing to challenge themselves.

A Different Meaning of Educational Quality

Through these moments, Hong-Jie began to understand something important.

Educational quality is often measured through obedience or academic performance. But perhaps there is another form of quality—one that appears when a child, in the midst of uncertainty, finds the courage to say:

“I want to try.”

That courage, quiet yet powerful, is also a form of high-quality education.

And it reminds us that meaningful change rarely happens instantly.
It grows slowly—when we learn to believe in ourselves, and when we choose to believe in one another.

Thank You for Walking Alongside These Classrooms

Because of your support, teachers like Hong-Jie can accompany children as they learn to believe in themselves and say, “I want to try.”

Thank you for standing with Teach For Taiwan. To see more stories from the classroom, visit our website or follow us on Facebook and Instagram.

Links:

• TFT website
• TFT Instagram
• TFT Facebook

Have you ever realized how close we are to misunderstanding a child?

“Teacher, see you.”

The boy known for “logging off in one second” officially transferred schools that day. His mother came suddenly in the afternoon to complete the paperwork. As I helped him pack up his things, I asked gently, “Can I give you a hug?”

Holding him, I said, “It might be hard at first in your new school. Hang in there. I believe you’ll grow stronger.”

Before leaving, I gave him the cards his classmates and I had written. He told me it was the first card he had ever received. He held it shyly, twisting his body a little, unsure how to respond.

I told him, “When I heard you were transferring, I felt sad. I even cried while talking about it with other teachers.”

His eyes suddenly became serious.

“Is there anything you’d like to say to me?” I asked.

“Thank you, teacher.”

And then, with our class fist-bump, he smiled and said softly, “See you.”

I Almost Missed the Chance to Truly Know Him

If I had to describe him, he was like an old computer with insufficient CPU—often shutting down in a second.

He struggled with attention. He was frequently scolded. Both teachers and classmates knew him as “that troublesome child.”

He was mainly raised by his grandmother. During phone calls at the start of the semester, I sensed distance from his parents. I had heard stories—that his parents “checked out,” that they weren’t involved.

Then one day, his mother came to school early to pick him up. It was my first time meeting her.

As we spoke, I began to see something different.

His father had been in and out of hospitals. His health was deteriorating. His mother was carrying the financial burden alone. When I asked how the family was doing, she replied calmly, “We’ve adjusted. We’ve accepted it. We’ll just do our best.”

That wasn’t the mother I had imagined.

I saw resilience. I saw exhaustion. I saw someone stretched thin between survival and caregiving.

Perhaps she hadn’t “logged out” of her son’s education.
Perhaps she simply had no more capacity left.

Every Child Has a Light Waiting to Be Seen

In our conversation, I told his mother what I saw in him.

On the second day of school, he had volunteered to run for vice class leader. He stood on stage and clearly explained his responsibilities and why he wanted the role. But because of his past behavior, classmates chose someone else.

Still, I saw him shining.

His mother once shared that he cried when seeing his father hospitalized, saying, “Our family is pitiful. Dad is sick, we’re poor, and my brother and I are always getting scolded.”

Behind his mischief was sensitivity. Imagination. A child trying to make sense of hardship.

The more I listened, the more layers unfolded.

With time, patience, and honest conversation, I began to believe deeply: he could become someone very different from the label he carried.

When We Choose to Look Again

Sometimes I wonder:

What if his mother had never come to school that day?
What if I had been too busy to start that conversation?

Would I still see him only through the lens of behavior?

In schools, things happen fast. We respond with instinct, experience, and sometimes unconscious bias. There isn’t always time to pause.

But equity often begins in that pause.

It begins when we choose not to let labels define a child.
When we allow room for different stories to emerge.
When we dare to believe that people—children and adults alike—can grow beyond their past.

“Every sincere conversation is a quiet resistance against misunderstanding.”

That is the lesson this child and his family taught me.

Thank You for Standing With Us

Because of your support, teachers can stay long enough to listen, to question assumptions, and to walk alongside families through complexity.

Your generosity allows Teach For Taiwan to support educators serving in rural communities—creating spaces where children are not reduced to labels, but seen in their full humanity.

Thank you for walking with us.

We warmly invite you to stay connected through our website, Instagram, and Facebook, where more stories of courage, growth, and understanding continue to unfold.

Together, we believe that one sincere conversation can open a different future.

Links:

• TFT website
• TFT Instagram
• TFT Facebook