写在恩师 Justine 逝世三周年纪念日
今天是我的恩师 Justine 逝世 3 周年纪念日。她是一个默默无闻的美国公民，却在中国留下了不凡的成就和影响。她有时会让我想到 19 世纪末来到远东的传教士，但 Justine 或许不曾感受到那些宏大的召唤，她只是想做一个普通的教育者。她喜欢教书，喜欢跟学生在一起。
Justine 1998 年第一次来中国，在这里生活了 11 年，先后任教于哈尔滨工业大学、北京邮电大学、上海外国语大学、汕头大学、黑龙江大学和南开大学滨海学院。我有幸在她在中国的最后两年成为了她的学生和朋友。她让我对英文写作有了全新的认识；从某种意义上来说，她塑造了今天的我。
三年前的今天，马萨诸塞州的本地网站刊登了一则讣告：
Justine A. Fitzgerald Juarez, 84, of North Andover, Massachusetts passed away on Saturday, October 24, 2015 at the Elliot Hospital in Manchester, NH, surrounded by her loving family.
After her retirement, she taught English in many cities in China, where she was very appreciated by all her beloved Chinese friends: Hu Yingwei (Ivan) of Bejing, Li Rui E of Harbin, Yan Nahao of Australia, Hai Xia Hao (Alice) of Tianjin, Chen Hao (Frank) of Chongqing, Yang Xiao Cheng (Monarch) of Tianjin and Justin of Beijing.
我没能在她临终前送别她，而是在北京给她的家人写下了这封信。
Hi Connie, Mark, and Tom*,
This is Justin, Justine's Chinese student and good friend. As my US visa expired, I am unable to travel to attend Justine's remembrance service. So I am writing to pour my heart to you.
Let me start by sending you and your family condolences from Beijing. I was heart-broken and sank into the abyss of sadness when I heard Justine passed away.
She is such a dedicated teacher and mentor, a selfless giver, a loving friend, and simply a beautiful human being that her passing away shattered my entire being.
I am sorry for the immeasurable loss of Justine. She will be sorely missed.
I cannot help recalling our friendship, phone calls, letters and cards Justine wrote, books she sent, and her smiling face.
Last time we spoke was this past June. Earlier I was in San Francisco. I planned to visit her in Chandler, AZ but didn't. I wish I did because it'd be the last chance to be around her and catch up.
I came back to Beijing to join a startup in July. When I was leaving at the San Jose Airport, I called Justine with the hope of getting hold of her and saying goodbye. No one answered the phone. I left a voice message. I hope she had the chance to hear it.
Justine means so much to me that I'd like to chronicle our friendship.
When I entered college, I was immediately aware of Justine--the "American expert"--on campus. A couple of weeks into the first semester, when I tried to talk to Justine for the first time, she said she had already heard about me.
I was so eager to learn English writing that I couldn't wait until the second year to take her classes. So I requested to sit in the sophomore class Justine was teaching, and she gave me the go-ahead. The request was unusual, so was the approval. That's when I began to think anew about writing in English.
In the sophomore year, I remember writing short pieces that Justine always carefully revised. I remember writing the first piece, about an item--my emergency lamp, then the college library, colors, the 21-gun salute, Oreo cookies in China, jail system in the US, Brazilians in Japan, a bizarre accident in China. The topics were fascinating and eye-opening.
My disobedient behavior in class--disagreeing with Justine, pointing out her misspellings, clarifying what she vaguely knew--were largely tolerated and even encouraged. I felt the ecstasy of being able to be myself, something I never took for guaranteed.
To get the most out of Justine's classes, I took two versions of notes--one, the points that were related to the class; the other, vocabulary (e.g. paucity, fraudulent, euphoria, dearth) and idioms Justine used. Every class was absolutely a joy.
We kept in touch after Justine went back to the US.
I sent her GRE essays and she would carefully read everything and always give me helpful feedback. I would reread what I wrote and read out loud what she'd written. It helped me train a more sensitive ear.
Justine was one of the two recommendation letter writers who helped send me to St. John's College in Maryland. I was excited to meet Justine and Tom in Philly. A year later, I visited Justine, Tom, and Sean again in Bordentown, and we drove to see August Wilson's Radio Golf in Camden. The next day we talked about her mom, children, and grandchildren outside Tom's house. Tom and Justine drove me to the Greyhound station in Philly, and we parted.
I see striking parallels between Justine and my maternal grandma, and I always refer to Justine "my American grandma" to my friends. According to Buddhism, one doesn't die. I am a strong believer. I know I am connected to Justine.
I am so grateful I met Justine and I am proud of her in every way.
Be well,
Justin
Oct. 26th, 2015
*Connie is Justine's elder sister, and Mark and Tom are two of Justine's sons.
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This letter was written in haste three years ago. I recounted my friendship with Justine chronologically because I figured it was the fastest way to get the episodes out of my mind.
Much remains untold. She was among the first generation of women who were admitted to Harvard, an American who loved America dearly, a foreigner who viewed China as an equal and the Chinese as a people on a par with Americans.
RIP. Justine.
题图: Brittany American Cemetery.