As the saying goes:” There’s no accounting for taste.” Each person has his own viewpoints of justice, beauty and the meaning of life. When people with different opinion get together, there inevitably will be argument among them. And if there is a strong-minded person in this group, he’ll try to ram his thought down others’ throats until he’s sure everyone is convinced.
I used to be this kind of person. I couldn’t bear people having different opinions from mine. For example, I couldn’t bear the clothes many teenagers wear nowadays: shorts, stockings and high heels together, they call this fashion! I couldn’t bear that girls cover their faces with two bunches of hair like cockroaches; I couldn’t bear those loud, noisy, discordant pop songs and pop singers.
One day, I got out for lunch. Sitting there, I overheard some girls at the next table who were talking about my hair and clothes. They were conjecturing about at which school I study in; why I had to cut my hair so short that it only cover my ears by one centimeter; why I had to wear such a long skirt that it covered half of my calves. Finally, they jumped to the conclusion that my parents were so strict and conservative that they forced me to be like that. When I heard it, I almost burst out laughing! I stared myself in the glass. Well, I looked quite good. Why did these girls had such ridiculous thoughts? Suddenly, the judgements I passed on those teenagers occurred to me. As the position changed, those judgements which seemed sensible soon turned into nonsense, because I realized that each person has his own aesthetics, and it’s meaningless to intrude my opinion on others’ free will.
2007年11月7日 星期三
Is the ability to read and write more important today than in the past?
Reading and writing are important ways to communicate. We read newspaper and textbooks to get information and knowledge in the world. We express our opinions, feeling and emotion by writing reports, compositions, letters, etc.
In ancient times, technology wasn’t developed enough that people only got information from reading hand-writing books. If you were not able to read and write, you were unlikely to become a member of high-class. Especially when you were in an agricultural society such as China, you would be an inferior person forever. Reading and writing are the only formal ways to express oneself. Officers wrote composition to tell their opinions. Scholars read informative books to learn. Poets wrote love poems and sonnets to describe their emotions and passions. Without the ability to read and write, it would be very hard to make yourself be regarded.
Nowadays, there are more ways for delivering information and news, for example, TV, computer, etc. It’s much easier to know what happen in the world than before. Knowledge and massages are also delivered in different forms. Movies, Discovery channels, information sharing websites, these are the new ways that modern people use to fulfill their desire of learning. For example, when you watch a movie, you can feel the massage the director wants to give without reading the script. You just have to watch the sense, feel the visual, listen to the music and appreciate the expressions of the actors. People even get new ways to advance their reputation. Now there are many people becoming famous by going to talk shows or by uploading their videos to sharing websites and make a big fortune. These people are successful in different ways. Nowadays, some skills are becoming more advantageous than the ability of reading and writing.
With the ability to read and write, people can achieve some success in some frontiers. But there are still many things you can’t describe only with words, such as love and beauty. Maybe the status of reading and writing are no long as important as before.
In ancient times, technology wasn’t developed enough that people only got information from reading hand-writing books. If you were not able to read and write, you were unlikely to become a member of high-class. Especially when you were in an agricultural society such as China, you would be an inferior person forever. Reading and writing are the only formal ways to express oneself. Officers wrote composition to tell their opinions. Scholars read informative books to learn. Poets wrote love poems and sonnets to describe their emotions and passions. Without the ability to read and write, it would be very hard to make yourself be regarded.
Nowadays, there are more ways for delivering information and news, for example, TV, computer, etc. It’s much easier to know what happen in the world than before. Knowledge and massages are also delivered in different forms. Movies, Discovery channels, information sharing websites, these are the new ways that modern people use to fulfill their desire of learning. For example, when you watch a movie, you can feel the massage the director wants to give without reading the script. You just have to watch the sense, feel the visual, listen to the music and appreciate the expressions of the actors. People even get new ways to advance their reputation. Now there are many people becoming famous by going to talk shows or by uploading their videos to sharing websites and make a big fortune. These people are successful in different ways. Nowadays, some skills are becoming more advantageous than the ability of reading and writing.
With the ability to read and write, people can achieve some success in some frontiers. But there are still many things you can’t describe only with words, such as love and beauty. Maybe the status of reading and writing are no long as important as before.
The Craziest Thing I’ve Ever Done
The school bell rang. Students poured out of the campus desperate for freedom and lunch. I hastily collected all my books and joined the procession of those sweating students, frowning under the violent, radiant sun.
“Hey, Cherry! Why not have lunch with us!” Tammy and Lily shouted from a distance. I hardly made my way through the torrent of people to them, and all of us stumbled in the discouraging, sweltering atmosphere with starvation and dizziness. I felt like walking in Sahara Desert. Buildings were melting, trees were burning in the steaming air, and the school gate was still far away.
“It’s so hot,” I couldn’t help complaining.
“ Yeah,” said Lily, trying to fan away the heat away with her hand. “the gate is still a distance away.”
“Let’s just climb the side-door.”
“What!” I shouted.
“Are you insane? We might be seen by teachers!”
Lily and I stared at Tammy, who brought out this crazy idea, but she just shrugged with an “I-don’t-give-a-damn” face.
I hesitated for a moment. In fact, I didn’t mind breaking rules. Instead, it was a tempting idea, as long as we could get out of this scorching heat. But I looked at Tammy and Lily, the tallest girls in class. They were both in jeans. Looking back at myself, one of the Hobbits in class, who never broke through the height of 160 and argued for 0.1 of a centimeter all the time, was in my knee-length uniform skirt! It was impossible for me to do so… or was it?
Despite the danger of being caught and “exposed”, it would be quite exciting, actually. Haven’t I been longing for doing these derailed acts for a long time? It would be such a great opportunity to be a “bad student”! The rebellious thoughts soon conquered my mind and all my conscience and behavior were swept away.
“Yeah! Let’s go about it!”
Tammy and I headed to the side-gate with a reluctant Lily. I looked up to the tremendous steel door with frustration when Tammy started to put down her bag, stepped her leg on the gate, with both her hands clinging to the iron bar. She bent her knee, trying to jump on the door, one, two, three…
“Can I go out by this gate?”
All of us were startled and turned around, (which almost made Tammy fall off) and saw a lady in high-heels with an umbrella in her hand.
“Er…” Lily and I started to stammer when we looked at each other in panic. We were caught ! And we were doomed! Why did I ever agree to do this? I tried to explain why we were here. But Tammy didn’t think so.
“No, you can’t walk out by this door. But you can climb over it, and that’s what we’re doing. Wanna join us?” Tammy said with a mischievous smile on her face.
Checkmate! The lady was shocked by her fearless attitude and her jaw hung in the air for seconds.
“Climb…climb over it? Well… then…I think I’d better find another way out…” she stammered, and left with awkwardness.
We burst out laughing with victory. With a cool leader as Tammy was, everything seemed to be done very well. We smiled with confidence as Tammy practically climbed on the gate, and whoosh! She had landed outside of the campus safely.
“My turn!”
Not knowing where my courage came from, I volunteered to be the next one. Throwing my bag to Tammy, I clung both of my hands on the iron bars, and they were so hot! Or maybe the heat came from my trembling sweating hands? I wouldn’t know. I tried very hard to step on the door with one of my feet.
“Calm down, and take a breath,” I told myself, and pulled—
The breeze gently blew my face. I was sitting on the gate! The view was so good here. I could see the panorama sight of our campus! All my emotions seemed to run away. And, oh, the gate was so torrid! My thighs felt like burning. Maybe I should get down now. Thinking of this, I looked down at the ground, and dizziness racked my brain. It was so high! How could I get down?
“How can I get down?” I shouted to Tammy nervously.
“Jump down, you silly!” she shouted back.
“Ok, ok…” I said, and slowly turned around on the gate. ” I’m jumping!”
“Be care…Shoot! You are wearing a skirt!” Tammy screamed out loud.
“Yeah, thank you for finally noticing this.” I thought. But before I could say anything, I felt a strong wind, my skirt inflated like a cake-like tent while the ground zoomed up and suddenly, I landed! I made it! I was in the school five seconds ago, and now I was as free as a bird! The weather seemed so nice and the flowers, the sky and even the sun were so lovely.
“Whoosh!” Lily had landed, too. We all were laughing, giggling and beaming, carrying our bags and headed to the restaurant. As we turned around and walked on the pavement, a mother and her little girl stared at us with shock and horror in silence, as if they were stunned into stones.
Crazy as we were, being seen or not didn’t mean anything to us anymore. As long as we were happy, why did we have to care whether others think of us as crazy or sane?
Yeah! We were bad girls!
“Hey, Cherry! Why not have lunch with us!” Tammy and Lily shouted from a distance. I hardly made my way through the torrent of people to them, and all of us stumbled in the discouraging, sweltering atmosphere with starvation and dizziness. I felt like walking in Sahara Desert. Buildings were melting, trees were burning in the steaming air, and the school gate was still far away.
“It’s so hot,” I couldn’t help complaining.
“ Yeah,” said Lily, trying to fan away the heat away with her hand. “the gate is still a distance away.”
“Let’s just climb the side-door.”
“What!” I shouted.
“Are you insane? We might be seen by teachers!”
Lily and I stared at Tammy, who brought out this crazy idea, but she just shrugged with an “I-don’t-give-a-damn” face.
I hesitated for a moment. In fact, I didn’t mind breaking rules. Instead, it was a tempting idea, as long as we could get out of this scorching heat. But I looked at Tammy and Lily, the tallest girls in class. They were both in jeans. Looking back at myself, one of the Hobbits in class, who never broke through the height of 160 and argued for 0.1 of a centimeter all the time, was in my knee-length uniform skirt! It was impossible for me to do so… or was it?
Despite the danger of being caught and “exposed”, it would be quite exciting, actually. Haven’t I been longing for doing these derailed acts for a long time? It would be such a great opportunity to be a “bad student”! The rebellious thoughts soon conquered my mind and all my conscience and behavior were swept away.
“Yeah! Let’s go about it!”
Tammy and I headed to the side-gate with a reluctant Lily. I looked up to the tremendous steel door with frustration when Tammy started to put down her bag, stepped her leg on the gate, with both her hands clinging to the iron bar. She bent her knee, trying to jump on the door, one, two, three…
“Can I go out by this gate?”
All of us were startled and turned around, (which almost made Tammy fall off) and saw a lady in high-heels with an umbrella in her hand.
“Er…” Lily and I started to stammer when we looked at each other in panic. We were caught ! And we were doomed! Why did I ever agree to do this? I tried to explain why we were here. But Tammy didn’t think so.
“No, you can’t walk out by this door. But you can climb over it, and that’s what we’re doing. Wanna join us?” Tammy said with a mischievous smile on her face.
Checkmate! The lady was shocked by her fearless attitude and her jaw hung in the air for seconds.
“Climb…climb over it? Well… then…I think I’d better find another way out…” she stammered, and left with awkwardness.
We burst out laughing with victory. With a cool leader as Tammy was, everything seemed to be done very well. We smiled with confidence as Tammy practically climbed on the gate, and whoosh! She had landed outside of the campus safely.
“My turn!”
Not knowing where my courage came from, I volunteered to be the next one. Throwing my bag to Tammy, I clung both of my hands on the iron bars, and they were so hot! Or maybe the heat came from my trembling sweating hands? I wouldn’t know. I tried very hard to step on the door with one of my feet.
“Calm down, and take a breath,” I told myself, and pulled—
The breeze gently blew my face. I was sitting on the gate! The view was so good here. I could see the panorama sight of our campus! All my emotions seemed to run away. And, oh, the gate was so torrid! My thighs felt like burning. Maybe I should get down now. Thinking of this, I looked down at the ground, and dizziness racked my brain. It was so high! How could I get down?
“How can I get down?” I shouted to Tammy nervously.
“Jump down, you silly!” she shouted back.
“Ok, ok…” I said, and slowly turned around on the gate. ” I’m jumping!”
“Be care…Shoot! You are wearing a skirt!” Tammy screamed out loud.
“Yeah, thank you for finally noticing this.” I thought. But before I could say anything, I felt a strong wind, my skirt inflated like a cake-like tent while the ground zoomed up and suddenly, I landed! I made it! I was in the school five seconds ago, and now I was as free as a bird! The weather seemed so nice and the flowers, the sky and even the sun were so lovely.
“Whoosh!” Lily had landed, too. We all were laughing, giggling and beaming, carrying our bags and headed to the restaurant. As we turned around and walked on the pavement, a mother and her little girl stared at us with shock and horror in silence, as if they were stunned into stones.
Crazy as we were, being seen or not didn’t mean anything to us anymore. As long as we were happy, why did we have to care whether others think of us as crazy or sane?
Yeah! We were bad girls!
The Heart Felt Moment
I walked somberly into the hospital.
I hated to go to such a place like this. Cold medics, unlively patients and gloomy families filled the silent hospital hall. Who ever came to this place will feel depressed. But I had to come here, because Mom just went under an uterus-removed operation yesterday.
I slided into the ward and sat next to Mom’s bed.
“She looks so pale,” I thought as I lay my hand on hers. Awaken by this motion, she slowly opened her eyes and smiled.
“Hi, babe. How’s school today?”
“Fine, nothing special.” I smiled back at her, putting her hand on my cheek and gently rooted little kisses on the back of her wrist.
She smiled wider. “Did I ever tell you the story of your birth?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Thousands of million times.” added in my mind.
I was born in this hospital, eighteen years ago. I wanted to come out from Mom’s belly desperately; the doctor pressed me inside and commanded Mom to stay in the hospital until my birth; months later, a huge infant was born at the weight of 3.95 kilogram. It wasn’t a new story at all, and I could even recite it already. But it seemed that she wanted to tell it again, so I just leaned my forehead on her hand and listened to her speaking.
“When I had you for seven months, I almost delivered you then. I was young, and all I wanted was to finish all of this and go back to my work as soon as possible, so I asked the doctor if I could just bear you at that time. He tried to persuade me that it was dangerous, but I just wouldn’t listen. That night, I slept in the hospital. And the next day, a young woman in a similar situation gave birth to her baby. It was said that the baby was safe, but its head wasn’t half as big as that of a normal baby! Hearing this astonishing news, I determined that I have to stay in the hospital, no matter how long it will take.”
I never heard of this before. As I heard this, I started to think that what if she just bore me that day? Would I be as healthy as I am today? What would I be if she just did it on impulse? Besides, she stayed in that shabby and old hospital for three months! A person lively and outgoing as she was had to lie on the bed, doing nothing but looking at the ceiling and letting go her work. She sacrificed so much, just because she knew there existed a life completely depending on her growing in her uterus. How many nights did she sleep in that dark, cold ward and counted the passing hours alone? How many days did she await the coming of the little stranger, me, in her body, and wonder how she looked and who she was?
“Finally,” she continued the story, “you came out in February. When I was delivering you, I bled badly. In such circumstances, most doctors would give up the infant and save the mother. Fortunately, living in the hospital for three months, I had acquainted myself with most of the doctors there. Many of them came to help at that time and saved both of us. I couldn’t imagine what if I lost you then and how life would be without you. As the doctor told me you were the most charming baby he had ever seen, I was so proud. And though eighteen years have passed, I still feel the same.”
I felt the sheet beneath my face was wet as hearing this. I knew that when Mom just found that she was pregnant, she once thought of controlling my gender by medical way because of the pressure of the the family and their expectation of a boy. But as the doctor warned her that this may lead to mental or physical deficiency of the child, she insisted on letting me be just what I am. There was nothing on me that wasn’t given by her. All the conviction, character and achievement I had now wouldn’t existed if it wasn’t for her firmness and sacrifice.
I raised up my head a little and peeped at her, and I saw her face which was pale now beaming. I couldn’t help thinking of the complaint I had made in my mind when she sent me to cram school after school when she had to work or when she decided to study as a graduate student. How selfish and immature I was, not knowing to satisfy for what I already had and cherished what my mom had given me. What an idiot I am, thinking that parents had the responsibility to do everything they can for their child and taking their love for granted.
“Cherry, you should go home now.” Dad came into the ward. Secretly wiping away the tears, I pressed two wholeheartedly good-bye kisses on Mother’s cheek.
Walking to the park, Dad pointed at an old building. “There was where Mommy stayed when she was expecting you.” I looked up at the building. Dark windows faced to the fading sunset and the indigo sky. The cloud rolled so lively with the breeze and made the building so old and broken in the shadow. The doctor had taken away mother’s uterus, where I was nourished with mother’s love and care. And the old hospital ward, where only two of us stayed together, would soon be eliminated. Though we were born to be connected with each other with our hearts, there must come a day when we would be separated. And by that time, I knew I would miss the day we had each other, the days when there were only I and her, in the old hospital ward.
I hated to go to such a place like this. Cold medics, unlively patients and gloomy families filled the silent hospital hall. Who ever came to this place will feel depressed. But I had to come here, because Mom just went under an uterus-removed operation yesterday.
I slided into the ward and sat next to Mom’s bed.
“She looks so pale,” I thought as I lay my hand on hers. Awaken by this motion, she slowly opened her eyes and smiled.
“Hi, babe. How’s school today?”
“Fine, nothing special.” I smiled back at her, putting her hand on my cheek and gently rooted little kisses on the back of her wrist.
She smiled wider. “Did I ever tell you the story of your birth?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Thousands of million times.” added in my mind.
I was born in this hospital, eighteen years ago. I wanted to come out from Mom’s belly desperately; the doctor pressed me inside and commanded Mom to stay in the hospital until my birth; months later, a huge infant was born at the weight of 3.95 kilogram. It wasn’t a new story at all, and I could even recite it already. But it seemed that she wanted to tell it again, so I just leaned my forehead on her hand and listened to her speaking.
“When I had you for seven months, I almost delivered you then. I was young, and all I wanted was to finish all of this and go back to my work as soon as possible, so I asked the doctor if I could just bear you at that time. He tried to persuade me that it was dangerous, but I just wouldn’t listen. That night, I slept in the hospital. And the next day, a young woman in a similar situation gave birth to her baby. It was said that the baby was safe, but its head wasn’t half as big as that of a normal baby! Hearing this astonishing news, I determined that I have to stay in the hospital, no matter how long it will take.”
I never heard of this before. As I heard this, I started to think that what if she just bore me that day? Would I be as healthy as I am today? What would I be if she just did it on impulse? Besides, she stayed in that shabby and old hospital for three months! A person lively and outgoing as she was had to lie on the bed, doing nothing but looking at the ceiling and letting go her work. She sacrificed so much, just because she knew there existed a life completely depending on her growing in her uterus. How many nights did she sleep in that dark, cold ward and counted the passing hours alone? How many days did she await the coming of the little stranger, me, in her body, and wonder how she looked and who she was?
“Finally,” she continued the story, “you came out in February. When I was delivering you, I bled badly. In such circumstances, most doctors would give up the infant and save the mother. Fortunately, living in the hospital for three months, I had acquainted myself with most of the doctors there. Many of them came to help at that time and saved both of us. I couldn’t imagine what if I lost you then and how life would be without you. As the doctor told me you were the most charming baby he had ever seen, I was so proud. And though eighteen years have passed, I still feel the same.”
I felt the sheet beneath my face was wet as hearing this. I knew that when Mom just found that she was pregnant, she once thought of controlling my gender by medical way because of the pressure of the the family and their expectation of a boy. But as the doctor warned her that this may lead to mental or physical deficiency of the child, she insisted on letting me be just what I am. There was nothing on me that wasn’t given by her. All the conviction, character and achievement I had now wouldn’t existed if it wasn’t for her firmness and sacrifice.
I raised up my head a little and peeped at her, and I saw her face which was pale now beaming. I couldn’t help thinking of the complaint I had made in my mind when she sent me to cram school after school when she had to work or when she decided to study as a graduate student. How selfish and immature I was, not knowing to satisfy for what I already had and cherished what my mom had given me. What an idiot I am, thinking that parents had the responsibility to do everything they can for their child and taking their love for granted.
“Cherry, you should go home now.” Dad came into the ward. Secretly wiping away the tears, I pressed two wholeheartedly good-bye kisses on Mother’s cheek.
Walking to the park, Dad pointed at an old building. “There was where Mommy stayed when she was expecting you.” I looked up at the building. Dark windows faced to the fading sunset and the indigo sky. The cloud rolled so lively with the breeze and made the building so old and broken in the shadow. The doctor had taken away mother’s uterus, where I was nourished with mother’s love and care. And the old hospital ward, where only two of us stayed together, would soon be eliminated. Though we were born to be connected with each other with our hearts, there must come a day when we would be separated. And by that time, I knew I would miss the day we had each other, the days when there were only I and her, in the old hospital ward.
Happy Moments In My Day
Dinner time is the happiest moment in my day. Instead of sitting in front of the TV, having big meal, I have dinner with my classmate, Lily, almost every day.
Hungry and exhausted, we like to walk away the fence and control of school and casually drop into the restaurant nearby. In this fourty minutes, we will strike on a conversation and start to pour out our ideas, feelings and experiences.
As the saying goes, a good friend is like a good book. In term of this, I won’t doubt how Benjamin Franklin went with black bread and books for lunch every day. As long as we stay together, what we eat is not important anymore. Sometimes, we talk about politics. Current events, characters of a successful leader, the tendency of education in Taiwan and environmental protection, though these topics always make us worried and confused about our future, it’s still good to have a friend who hold the same attitude with me. Sometimes, we talk about music and literature. Listening to the songs of Eason Cheng, we contemplate on the meaning of the lyrics and reflect them on ourselves. Discussing the novel of Bronte sister, we are always surprised at how powerful, beautiful and touching language can be. Reciting out the sentences of Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights, we seem to see how Charlotte and Emily wandered on the moor in Yorkshire, chasing for their own liberty. We can keep talking without stopping, weaving our memories and past when we didn’t have each other together, adding the whole universe and the rainbow to it, extending this precious moment and our horizons.
I remember how Van Gogh lost his sanity when Gaugain left him, and how Orlando, the character created by Virginia Woolf, lived and searched for three hundred years, just to seek a companion in life. Thinking of their sorrows, I always couldn’t help but feel appreciative of my acquaintance with Lily. Starvation won’t change the courses we’re pursuing, and strain won’t stop us from striding forward. Our spirits desire to be nurtured with some food for thoughts. When I look at her face as she tries to search for the precise words in her vocabulary to express herself, I feel that the seeds of hope and love in my heart being awakened; when she talks to me, this is the most enjoyable moment in my day.
Hungry and exhausted, we like to walk away the fence and control of school and casually drop into the restaurant nearby. In this fourty minutes, we will strike on a conversation and start to pour out our ideas, feelings and experiences.
As the saying goes, a good friend is like a good book. In term of this, I won’t doubt how Benjamin Franklin went with black bread and books for lunch every day. As long as we stay together, what we eat is not important anymore. Sometimes, we talk about politics. Current events, characters of a successful leader, the tendency of education in Taiwan and environmental protection, though these topics always make us worried and confused about our future, it’s still good to have a friend who hold the same attitude with me. Sometimes, we talk about music and literature. Listening to the songs of Eason Cheng, we contemplate on the meaning of the lyrics and reflect them on ourselves. Discussing the novel of Bronte sister, we are always surprised at how powerful, beautiful and touching language can be. Reciting out the sentences of Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights, we seem to see how Charlotte and Emily wandered on the moor in Yorkshire, chasing for their own liberty. We can keep talking without stopping, weaving our memories and past when we didn’t have each other together, adding the whole universe and the rainbow to it, extending this precious moment and our horizons.
I remember how Van Gogh lost his sanity when Gaugain left him, and how Orlando, the character created by Virginia Woolf, lived and searched for three hundred years, just to seek a companion in life. Thinking of their sorrows, I always couldn’t help but feel appreciative of my acquaintance with Lily. Starvation won’t change the courses we’re pursuing, and strain won’t stop us from striding forward. Our spirits desire to be nurtured with some food for thoughts. When I look at her face as she tries to search for the precise words in her vocabulary to express herself, I feel that the seeds of hope and love in my heart being awakened; when she talks to me, this is the most enjoyable moment in my day.
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