The teacher entered the classroom, but the six chalkboards were still full of writing from the previous lesson, and no student had erased them. The teacher said nothing, only slowly erased everything clean.

During a class in 2001, in a calculus course, the teacher entered the classroom but the six chalkboards were still full of writing from the previous lesson, and no student had erased them. The teacher said nothing, only slowly, deliberately, and calmly erased everything clean.

Then, without a word of reproach, she wrote on six new chalkboards. When finished, she erased again, and wrote again. The students simply copied, trying to keep up with her writing pace. At the end of the class, she turned around and said quietly: “I wanted to teach you all what goodwill means.” From that day forward, the students sitting in the front rows, whoever arrived at class early, would erase the boards.

More than 20 years later, this memory from the lecture hall was shared on the personal page of a former student of Hanoi University of Science and Technology.

Notably, alongside agreement and gratitude for the teacher’s method of teaching both knowledge and character, many comments appeared offering opposing perspectives.

These viewpoints argued that instructors should not be annoyed, resentful, or calculating with students. Students are the ones who are lacking and immature, which is why they need to study and need teachers to guide them. The teacher was overly asserting her authority, when simply asking a student to erase the board would have solved the problem.

Some comments even suggested that since students pay tuition, they “should not have to endure being ordered around like that.”

Thus, what began as a nostalgic, appreciative sharing of a campus memory unexpectedly turned into a debate.

One side praised the instructor for her subtle lesson, teaching learners to be proactive and respectful, not just in the academic environment but beyond, when they step out into life to establish themselves and their careers.

And that such strict teaching is necessary. Because if she had simply called on any random student to erase the board, the students would not have internalized the message deeply. The act of erasing the board is not merely an obligation. It is about the spirit of cooperation, the awareness of social interaction.

The other side argued that instructors are paid a salary, compensated to teach, students pay money to learn, so “no one has the duty to erase the board for anyone.”

In essence, the debate is not just about who should erase the old board, but also shows us a shift in ethical values. It reflects how perspectives on the teacher-student relationship have somewhat transformed under the flow of the market economy.

In the past, teachers were symbols of knowledge and character. The respect given to them was not because they provided good service, but because they bestowed upon us spiritual light.

Today, schools operate like profit-generating enterprises, donning a business coat, and learners are likened to customers. And once they are customers, learners naturally believe they have the right to choose, evaluate, and judge their teachers.

This change may be right or wrong, depending on one’s perspective—whether education is non-profit or purely economic. But when commercial relationships overshadow moral ones, we lose something precious: goodwill.

That goodwill cannot be bought with tuition, nor is it detailed in any teaching contract.

Goodwill is what makes people act not for gain, but because they recognize the kindness of others. Perhaps, students should erase the board not out of obligation, but from a genuine desire for a clean classroom space, wanting to share a small task so the teacher can have more inspiration for a better lesson. It would be wonderful if instructors taught wholeheartedly (both book knowledge and lessons on human interaction) not out of fear of evaluation, but because they consider spreading knowledge a professional mission.

When goodwill disappears, the classroom becomes a place to haggle over rights. “I’ve paid tuition, why should I do this or that besides studying?” “I’m paid this much according to the agreement, I only need to teach this content, that content as required by the syllabus, no need to teach life lessons.” “My child has paid full tuition, I demand teaching services worthy

Hanoi University of Science and Technology

The Hanoi University of Science and Technology (HUST), established in 1956, is Vietnam’s first and largest national technical university. It was founded with the mission of training a high-quality scientific and technical workforce to serve the post-war reconstruction and development of the country. Today, it remains a leading institution in engineering and technology education in Vietnam.