Parents' meetings are the strangest kind of gatherings in China, I have to admit. And they have not changed much since I left secondary school.

Were it not for the fact that my aunt, a divorcee, had gone on a business trip, I would not have had the "honour" of attending yesterday's parents' meeting for her 12-year-old child.

After a day at followed by a struggle through Shanghai's public transportation system, all the parents wore a fatigued face, which made me wonder whether it is a good idea to have a child at all.

What was worse, the teacher presiding over the meeting showed no interest in the mood of the audience and immediately started showering criticism and dishing out blame as soon as the meeting began.

I once heard a story about a teacher in Australia who was criticized by parents because she told her pupils that there was actually no Santa Claus - words which disappointed the children to the point of tears.

But here such things do not happen. Far more poisonous words retain their immunity. Several days ago a middle school student committed suicide because she was reproached and taunted by her teacher in the presence of the whole class with such words as "You are so stupid! You did so badly in your exam! And you are not even beautiful! What can you do in the future?"

Extinguishing the dream of Santa Claus is certainly less criminal than extinguishing that of one's own worth.

I believe even if Santa Claus himself were now sitting beside me, our teacher would show no more mercy and maybe say even worse things - "Hey, why do you dress like that! Put that energy into your child!"

We do not have a parents-and-teachers' associations of the kind most Western schools have. I believe it would be a bad idea since setting up that kind of association leads to nothing more than having parents' meetings again and again, one after another, for months in a row.

The only result would be that our teachers would communicate their criticism to parents on a more frequent basis, like bosses communicating to their employees (the person who is doing a bad job is always the employee rather than the boss), indifferent to the fact that they are actually paid by the parents rather than paying the parents.

It was a great relief when the meeting ended. But my pain was not over. Some parents (and I) were asked to stay after the others left because they were the parents of extremely "bad" children and needed more specific, individually focused edification.

My turn.

"Are you her aunt or something?" I knew I just did not look old enough to be a mother attending such a meeting.

"Ah, yes. I am her aunt." (She will explode if I say I am her cousin). "Her mother just cannot make time to come."

"Cannot make time? How did other parents make the time? Are you aware or not that today's meeting is a very important one?"

"Oh, yes I am very sorry but ..." "Your niece always does badly in her exams and she is always playing and doing light reading! You should spend more time and energy on her! Or I don't see any chance of her ever getting into a college!"

I wonder if her past job was that of a fortune-teller, otherwise how could she predict with such force that my "niece" would not have "any chance of getting into a college".

To observe how a parents' meeting is conducted may be helpful to understanding how a typical class is conducted and how every Chinese, whether as a student or as a parent, is affected by a bureaucratic education system from their childhood.

When I was finally able to leave, after thanking the teacher like a cowardly wimp, I wondered whether the just-concluded event was a meeting of parents or a lecture on them.

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