That Afternoon We Screened a Movie

One afternoon back in elementary school, I recommended a movie to my classmates. I vaguely remember it was “Hachiko” I had seen it before—a story about waiting and loyalty. For my younger self, the appeal of a little dog was simply off the charts.

But who would have thought that as soon as the opening credits started rolling, the classroom erupted with boos. A few classmates shouted from their seats: “Ugh, what’s so good about a Japanese movie?” “Yeah! Doesn’t China have its own movies?”

Standing at the podium, I was instantly stunned. All the persuasive points I had carefully prepared were choked back by this sudden wave of noise.

That casually uttered phrase “Little Japan” stuck in my mind like a tiny splinter for many days.

Now that I’m an adult, looking back on that afternoon, I’ve come to understand that behind the children’s reactions lay something much deeper.

The “Unpatriotic” Words of Children Reflect the Shadows of Adults

To be fair, I don’t believe those children harbored any real malice. At that age, they are like sponges, absorbing messages from their surroundings, the internet, and even their families without much discrimination. That kind of simplistic “patriotic” expression is not uncommon in our lives:

• Exclusion — As if loving China necessarily means disliking Japan or looking down on the United States. The world, in their eyes, is reduced to a black-and-white chessboard.
• Slogans — Shouting “We’re the best!” at the top of their lungs, yet unable to articulate why. They outright refuse to understand what others might do well.
• History — Regarding Japan, we all share indelible national memories. But is it right to indiscriminately cast the pain of history onto today’s Japanese culture and ordinary people?

For children whose cognition is not yet mature, this kind of straightforward, simplistic logic is most appealing—it’s clear-cut, provides immediate emotional release, and quickly defines the camps of “us” versus “them.”

Unfortunately, in reality, not everyone who holds such thinking has grown up.

Narrow “Love” is Actually Fragile

If we allow children to remain at this simplistic level of understanding, it offers no long-term benefit.

Rejecting an excellent movie means missing out on an aesthetic experience and an emotional resonance. How will a child unwilling to understand the world coexist with this diverse world in the future?

True strength comes from knowing others’ strengths and using that knowledge to spur one’s own progress. If one only gains satisfaction by belittling others, how is that any different from a psychological victory?

Patriotism, in the end, is a marathon about “building.” What children need most urgently now is to accumulate knowledge, develop abilities, and shape a sound character, not waste their energy on ignorant exclusion.

I think if I have a child in the future, I will tell them this: “Remembering history is meant to make us stronger and wiser, not to fill our hearts with hatred. A truly strong person knows how to appreciate an opponent’s strengths and thinks about how to surpass them.”

This is the patriotic education we should pass on to the next generation:

• Clear Distinction Between Love and Hate: Love for the motherland is the foundation; the suffering of history should be motivation for self-improvement, not seeds for perpetuating hatred.
• Judge Matters on Their Own Merits: What deserves criticism are the historical acts of militarism, not all of today’s Japanese culture and products.
• Broad-mindedness: Transform the dismissive attitude of “What’s so great about them?” into the thoughtful question, “What about them is worth learning, and how can we do better?”

Final Thoughts

The chorus of boos in the classroom that day was a reminder, but also an opportunity.

It showed us that the seed of patriotism needs to be nurtured with rationality, openness, and wisdom to grow into a towering tree that provides shade for future generations, not a thorny barrier that blocks out the world.

What I should teach a child is not to hate a particular country, or to blindly like anyone.

Rather, it is to teach them how to think independently, how to understand inclusively, and how to find the true confidence and composure of being Chinese in this complex and colorful world.