Ren Changxia is undoubtedly an outstanding policewoman. Her sense of justice and self-discipline, her iron hand in cracking more than 1,000 major cases, her timely handling of letters and visits and her great concern for the weak has helped her to win the heart of the people in Dengfeng city, of Central China's Henan Province.

No wonder that when she died in a traffic accident, an enormous throng of 140,000 local residents spontaneously appeared to mourn at her funeral. Her story deeply touches me, and I think she fully deserves the various titles and honours bestowed upon her.

However, what makes me a little uncomfortable is the other side of the propaganda. It is said that during her three years as director of the local Public Security Bureau in Dengfeng city, Ren only went home very rarely. Even when she did, after a couple of words to her family, she would begin making phone calls to arrange work, and then rush out again.

She never had time to talk with her husband. Her son waited from kindergarten to middle school, wishing to spend some time with his mother, but his wish was seldom realized. She almost never attended any big-family get-together with her parents or siblings. In other words, Ren is here described as an "unqualified" wife, mother and daughter who failed to fulfill her family responsibilities.

I am clear enough about the journalists' intentions - she was too busy to find any time for her own life. She sacrificed the interests of her "small" family to ensure the security and stability of a "big" family, the city. She had no spare time, as she served the populace at large with her heart and soul.

We've been brought up with such moral lessons about model workers or cadres: They work restlessly, often with various illnesses, and keep up the habit of studying late into the night after work. It's impossible for them to appear at the family dinner table. Their spouses always complain about not seeing them for days, months or even years. They feel extremely sorry for their children because they never have time to take care of them. Their parents have to understand their frequent absence from family get-togethers, let alone being cared for by them. They dedicate themselves to the noble cause of serving the people of China.

It seems that to become a hero or heroine, one has no choice but to leave behind one's own family. For years, model professionals were unanimously portrayed as bad husbands, wives or children, irresponsible fathers or mothers yet very competent professionals.

That's the propaganda we have been used to since childhood. To achieve a more convincing effect, our media has always intentionally selected some typical examples and adopted the unwritten rule of making the characters larger than life.

In most cases, the examples are more or less exaggerated to serve as foils to set off the characters' diligence and selflessness. And we are asked to learn from them to sacrifice the interests of the individual to that of the collective.

The result is that the models look somewhat inhuman. If they are unable to support their families, why do they get married? It wouldn't involve such sacrifice if they remained single. They serve common people, putting aside their own families. But the fact is that their family members are common people too, who also need their care and love.

Therefore, failure to attend to one's own family is really a shame, which should not be extolled as evidence of hard work and devotion. Nowadays, we no longer imagine anyone to be perfect. No man is perfect. Models are not robots - they also need time for relaxation and entertainment.

Good rest ensures a refreshed spirit and high efficiency. Models who enjoy a colourful life as well as a fruitful career are more charming and acceptable. At least, I think the media should not lead the public astray by confusing one's career and individual life, and meanwhile putting a heavy burden on people through exacting models.

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