Xiao Jun's life was much different five months ago. Back then
the troubled 15-year-old boy slept in the class, cut class, defied
school regulations, was addicted to online games and would not go
home for weeks.
He spent most of his days mixed up in youth gang warfare and
almost suffocated his mother to death with a pillow-just because
she nagged him.
But now, the once defiant, stubborn juvenile enjoys sitting
quietly on his bed in his clean, orderly room. He greets everyday
with the sunny smile of a happy, innocent teenager.
"I want to be a bottle of water, clean and pure, not a tin of
fizzy cola that would pop if shaken," the boy says, putting down
the simplified version of the Analects of Confucius that he has
been reading. "I've gone too far and now I want to go back to a
normal life."
Five months ago, after days of searching, Xiao's parents found
the skeletal-thin boy in a smoky cyber cafe. Not knowing what to do
with the boy, his exasperated parents finally decided to send him
to the Guanxing Training Center in the Zhangjiang University Town
in Shanghai's Pudong New Area.
Opened last March, the center is the city's first privately
owned, full-time institution for troubled youths, such as teenage
drop-outs and Internet addicts.
It provides psychological training, behavior exercises and
sports activities for these "margin children."
Hidden on the sixth floor of a college student dorm building,
the windows are barred with wire mesh. There are also grilles and
iron gates.
For many desperate parents the center is the last resort. They
hope kids there such as Xiao Jun and the other 35 troubled boys and
girls, aged eight to 17 from all over the country, can find their
way back to a more normal life. They know it has not been easy so
far.
"Having been a teacher for almost 30 years I know there are a
large number of troubled teens with poor academic performances at
school who are discarded by teachers," says Zong Fulin, a retired
middle school principal who launched the center. "They make trouble
and play hooky. Parents cannot discipline them at all."
Each student is expected to pay a training and accommodation fee
of 3,000 yuan (US$416.7) a month. The center's program is a scaled
down version of a combination of boot camp and military school.
Not punished
Students are issued deep-blue uniforms and are overseen by six
retired military officers. A group of students from the nearby
universities are also involved.
"Students are not yelled at, physically punished or ever put in
any harmful or unsafe position," says Zong, the center's
director.
"The therapeutic program, focusing on developing discipline,
responsibility and education, is very effective for teens who
struggle with behavioral and emotional issues."
For the children sent to the center, each morning involves a
6:20am start followed by a three-kilometer jog, a 40-minute dorm
clean-up, and 150 minutes of military training which can include
games of football or basketball in a nearby garden.
Students then have a 100-minute nap from 11:20am to 1pm. Seven
students and one teacher share one dorm.
"Our teachers are required to live, eat, play, learn and train
with the students," says 45-year-old Zhao Peng who is responsible
for the military training section.
Zhao served in the People's Liberation Army in Tibet for more
than 20 years before retiring from the army two years ago.
The students watch television news programs from 5:20pm to 7pm
and sometimes they enjoy some other lighter entertainment during
this period. They go to bed strictly at 8:30pm.
"Physical punishment is strictly forbidden here," Zhao says. "If
a child disobeys, the biggest punishment is to let him or her sit
alone.
"Military training and rigorous exercise are to teach them how
to be self-disciplined and obedient to their parents, which they
should learn at first."
But Zong thinks physical exercise is far from enough. "Many of
these kids are either over-pampered or over-neglected by their
parents and most of them have emotional or behavioral problems.
Military training alone cannot solve these problems," Zong
says.
"What they also need is someone who can have heart-to-heart
talks with them and put them on the right track of life."
Each afternoon they gather for class. But it's not a Chinese,
maths or English class typically seen in a normal school. It's a
two-hour class on morals delivered by Zong.
"Students learn things in my class, such as leadership, job
skills, how to resist peer pressure and how to make friends," Zong
says.
His class centers around six topics: Why should we go to school?
How to treat parents? How to make friends? How to deal with the
opposite sex? How to overcome bad habits? How to have your own
goals in life?
Zong says his teaching materials are based on United States
behavioral health education theories for children which have been
adapted into more than 100 PowerPoints for his students.
"At first it was really hard. I thought I couldn't hold on,"
said 14-year-old Tian Ran from Guizhou Province. The boy, who said
he hated school, was coaxed to the center by his parents three
months ago.
"The first few days went really badly for me. I began to hate my
parents because I felt they cheated me by throwing me in here," he
said.
Students are not allowed to go outside without a teacher.
"It was like a prison when I first got here. But gradually I
found there were more fun moments."
Student excursions
Each weekend, the students can go on an excursion. So far, they
have visited the Baosteel factory to see how steel is made, taken a
maglev train ride to experience its thrilling speed and climbed the
Oriental Pearl TV Tower for a bird's view of Shanghai.
Last year on Mother's Day, the students trekked four kilometers
carrying two five-kilogram bags of rice on their just so they could
experience what it was like for their mothers during nine months of
pregnancy.
"I began to understand my parents and feel sorry for what I've
done," Tian says sadly. "I really miss them."
Tian hasn't seen his parents for three months since being taken
into the center.
In the first three months, no parents are allowed to see their
children. Letters and phone calls are also forbidden.
According to Zong, the first three months are the crucial
period. He says frequent visits and phone calls during this time
would send a wrong signal to the child. It would say the parents
care for the child and miss him/her and in turn the child would
unload about pressures and the program would not be effective.
On the other hand, he says, if parents stay away during the
first three months, the child gets another signal that suggests:
"I'm really disappointed in you and I hope you can face your past
behavior and have a new outlook in the future."
"Most parents came to me saying they wanted to see their
children," Zong says. "I let them sit in my car secretly to watch
their kids in the distance, just to reassure them. But the children
don't know their dads and moms have come."
After the first three months, parents are allowed to visit
freely. Each time after the visit, they are required to complete a
feedback sheet offering their suggestions and comments.
"Each time I see other children go to the park with their
parents and be so close to their dads and moms, I'm always forced
to tears," a tearful father wrote after he visited his son. "I ask
myself why we can't to this. I realize I'm not a good dad. I'm
terribly sorry, son."
Zong says despite the fact most of the kids come from wealthy
families they are "poor." "They have been spoiled by their parents
who think money is the only thing that can please their children.
When the kids can't get enough love and care from families, they
want to rebel."
The director believes six to nine months in the center is the
ideal length of time for children to overcome bad habits. So far
more than 10 students have returned home after the program.
Zong said the feedback from their parents was very positive. The
behavior of the children had greatly improved and they were
enjoying their new school life.
Yang Xiong, the director of the Youth and Juvenile Institute of
Shanghai Academy of Social Science, has an open mind about the
center.
"This new type of institution caters for students with emotional
and behavioral problems. They make trouble but what they've done is
not severe enough to put them in the juvenile court," Yang
says.
Such children, often called "margin students," are usually
discarded by normal schools and many parents are unwilling to send
them to reform schools offering rigorous military training.
"In China, the number of troubled youths is increasing. This
offers a huge market for institutions like Guanxing. But whether
this kind of training center is effective still needs more time and
closer observation to prove," Yang says.
(Shanghai Daily January 28, 2008)