In the first week of school, parents hadn't even had time to recover from the joy of 'the little beasts returning to their cages' when the class group chat exploded. The reason was simple: a die, or rather, the random name picker on a phone.
Here's what happened. Old Zhou, the math teacher, had been teaching for twenty years and was a homeroom teacher for the first time. On the first day of school, he stood at the podium, facing more than forty chattering little mouths, his head buzzing. It was the first week, so he had to set rules, select class cadres, check summer homework—there was a mountain of things to do. The most headache-inducing was calling on students to answer questions—whenever he asked, the students would lower their heads in unison, wishing they could shrink into their desks. Who should he call? Calling anyone seemed inappropriate; if he called Zhang San, Li Si's parents would later ask, 'Is the teacher being biased?'
Old Zhou had been young once and knew that approach wouldn't work. He thought, why not try something new? He took out his phone, opened a random name picker app, entered all the students' names, and projected it onto the big screen in the classroom. On the screen, a big red die spun around, and the students' eyes widened as if watching a lottery draw. Old Zhou slapped the desk and said, 'Stop!' The die stopped, and a name popped up on the screen—'Wang Xiaoyu, please answer question three.'
The classroom was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter. Wang Xiaoyu's face turned bright red, and she stood up reluctantly, but there was no way around it—everyone was watching, so she had to answer. To everyone's surprise, she actually got it right. Old Zhou was pleased: this method worked—it was fair and a bit exciting.
But here came the problem. That afternoon, someone in the parent group sent a message: '@Teacher Zhou, I heard you're using a random name picker to call on students? That might not be a good idea. What if my child gets picked? He's introverted and might get nervous and freeze up, which would hurt his confidence.' As soon as this was said, the group erupted like a boiling pot.
Some parents chimed in: 'Exactly, my kid is timid anyway. This is like winning a prize, it's scary.' Others opposed: 'I think it's great! It's fair! Before, teachers always called on the top students, and our kids never had a chance to raise their hands.' Some parents had even wilder imaginations: 'Does this picker have a backdoor? Maybe the teacher can choose whoever he wants and just puts on a show for us?' The most extreme was a parent who directly posted a link: 'According to the internet, this kind of app can set weights, so the teacher must have put the troublemakers at the front.'
When Old Zhou saw the messages, he was drinking water from his thermos and almost choked. He quickly explained in the group: 'Dear parents, I'm just trying to be fair, giving every child a chance to answer questions. I'm absolutely not targeting anyone. The picker is just a random tool, like drawing lots.' But even after that, some parents wouldn't let it go: 'What if a child gets picked and can't answer, and the whole class laughs at him? Who's responsible for that psychological trauma?'
Old Zhou had no choice. The next day, he tried it again in class. This time, he picked a child who usually loved raising his hand, but when the child stood up, he froze and couldn't say a word. Some classmates snickered. Old Zhou didn't criticize him; instead, he said, 'You see, everyone freezes sometimes. It's normal. The picker is to show everyone that opportunities are equal for all. It's not shameful to answer wrong; it's shameful not to try.'
He later conveyed this message at the parent-teacher meeting. After that, Old Zhou became smarter. He still used the picker, but if the chosen student seemed nervous, he would give a hint or let the desk mate help out. Gradually, the opposing voices in the parent group faded, and some parents even said: 'Teacher Zhou's method is great. My kid never raised his hand before, but now, to avoid being picked, he proactively prepares at home every day.'
In the end, what's the big deal about a random name picker? The parents' explosion wasn't about the tool; it was about their hearts as parents. They feared their children would be at a disadvantage, be treated differently, or be wronged. But from another perspective, children will eventually face all kinds of uncertainties. Compared to the random problems life throws at them later, what's a question picked by a random name picker?
Old Zhou later told me he never imagined a die could cause such a stir. But this incident reminded him that being a teacher requires more than just enthusiasm; you also need to understand people. Now, every weekend, he sends the questions for the next week to the parent group in advance so parents know what's coming. The picker is still in use, but it's now cushioned with a layer of 'human touch.'
The parent group has calmed down. But Old Zhou knows the next 'explosion' might be on its way.