Embarassing Moments
submitted by Carol Griffiths, China
Carol Griffiths has been a teacher for many years. Although born in England, she lives in New Zealand. After completing a Bachelor's degree majoring in English and French at Massey University, she began her career as a high school teacher before moving into tertiary education as an English language specialist. She completed a Diploma in English Language Teaching (Dip ELT) at the University of Auckland, followed by a Master's degree in Applied Linguistics from Waikato University and a PhD researching language learning strategies from the University of Auckland. She has presented papers at a number of conferences, both in New Zealand and overseas, and published a number of articles. Her book, entitled "Lessons from good language learners", an edited collection of papers to commemorate the 30th anniversary of Joan Rubin's landmark article in TESOL Quarterly, is awaiting publication. Carol is currently working as International Expert in English Language Studies at the Beijing Sports University in China. E-mail: carolgriffiths5@gmail.com
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Haircut
The Violin
Black June
When I was a child I seldom wore long hair, and instead of going to a hairdresser my grandmother cut my hair. Children were always very naughty and I was no exception. When I was a child, I often played outside all day so that my clothes and my hair were always very dirty. That was the reason why I had to wear short hair.
When I was in kindergarten, my grandmother cut my hair as usual. It was in the evening so she could not see clearly, so she cut my hair unevenly. In order to make my hair smooth, she cut it a little shorter. After several times of cutting shorter, my hair was shorter even than a boy's. Tragedy struck when I was offered a mirror. Seeing my stupid hair in the mirror, I burst into tears. I cried I would not go to school the next day because my classmates would laugh at me. To stop my noisy crying, my grandmother promised me a new toy which I had looked forward to for a long time.
The next day before I went to school my grandmother wrapped my hair in a large scarf, so nobody would see my stupid hair. Unfortunately, the scarf fell off when I was plying games. Nobody noticed, and I quickly went under a desk nearby. I did not know what to do. With tears in my eyes, I hoped no one could see me and wished I had the ability to disappear suddenly.
At last, my teacher found me and asked what the matter was. Holding the scarf on my head, I kept silent and refused to come out or even to move a little. Tears ran down my cheeks. She thought a while and took my scarf. Then she found the reason. Without saying anything, she wrapped my hair quickly and helped me out from under the desk.
In fact, no one laughed at me. Everyone was very kind and treated me just as normal. In fact, I was the only one who worried about it. Before long, of course, my hair grew and it was no longer a problem. As they say, time heals everything. But every time I look back, I always feel a little shame. I think that was the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me.
Crystal
crystal_lt@sohu.com
Last semester, I watched a movie, Music of My Heart, which depicts a true story about music. A single mother of two boys constantly persists in her ideal of music under strong racial prejudice, promoting classical music by teaching violin to underprivileged young people. And after years of endeavor she receives respect and honor from all walks of life. I was impressed by her persistence in adversity, but the reason why I cherished this movie so much is more than that.
There is a scene in the movie where the violin tutor seizes a precious opportunity for her young students to play violin in a famous concert hall in order to raise enough tuition fees for the following semesters. Plucking the strings of violins, the students sparked the highest emotion of every audience, and unwittingly triggered my memory with the violin.
When I was a kid as old as the students in the movie, the violin was also the instrument filling my spare time after school. Quite different from the kids in the movie, I never devoted myself to practicing. I hate those dull music scores. I was always wondering why those musicians wrote pages of complex notes together, making me feel like a stupid girl who hardly made progress for years. I was reluctant to face up to the scales that could have been mastered if I had tried again.
The violin for me was like the evil-hearted witch who stole my happiness uncompromisingly. Standing in the jungle overgrown by weeds, I absently stared at the world of music which was at that time nothing more than a spring without flowers and a dish without seasonings.
At the end of Grade Two, my violin tutor got a chance for us to play in public, which was my first experience on stage with the violin and my last time as well. Because of my unskillful practice, I made several mistakes in one composition and disturbed the whole tempo of our band. Actually, we ended up out of time.
I saw the audience laughing. Perhaps they were not laughing at me, but were just amused by this awkward accident. However, for me, a kid, it was really an irretrievable embarrassment. From then on, I have never touched the violin again.
Watching the film, hearing the familiar rhythms, memories of the past reverberated in my mind. I was moved by the passion of those young violinists and their success. I can't help imagining who I would be if I had been industrious and brave.
Now the more I step towards the world of grown-ups, the more I realize that we live in a world where everything has a price. The only thing that can bring you success is hard work. I am now regretful I give up that easily, but, maybe that is life. We always have to suck every sorrowful teardrop in the past to raise our fighting spirit and awareness of the true meaning of life.
Sammi
sammilu2008@yahoo.com.cn
For high school students in China, a decade's academic pursuit ultimately revolves upon the college entrance examination, just like the final showdown of gladiators - die or survive, no exaggeration here. Unfortunately, in this battle, I seemed to have a dark appointment with destiny. Despite habitual good academic performance and ample self-confidence, I failed, by a narrow margin, to reach the standard of the university that I applied for.
Anguish was brimming during those days and I virtually considered that the failure of this exam declared the end of a bright future. The abrupt fiasco overthrew the arrogant me from the fantasy. Indulging in solitary gloom, I isolated myself, yet always felt a growing roar of laughter and rejection from others.
However, life keeps going and the passing of time is the best antidote that weakens the poison of grief. It was that period when I first thought of my life seriously; it was by the contemplation of that time I grew to be mature.
Life obviously will not always be smooth and sweet and then the issue is how we deal with the knocks: Shall we accept defeat and bow and say: "Thank you, I'm a loser. I'll go away now"? Obviously, sadness is easier because it's surrender. Or shall we have the courage to fail big and stick around and let people wonder why we are still smiling? The latter is true greatness to me.
A motto of the British Special Service Air Force is "Those who risk, win." Life is full of adventures and the flawless and perfect situation is beyond expectation. Therefore, we should make full preparation and enjoy the adventure and never feel let down by temporary defeat or embarrassment.
From then on, that Black June, whenever a frustration arises, I will take a few minutes to wallow in the delicious misery - enjoy it, embrace it, discard it and then proceed. We should never idle away our time in sad memories of the past, nor lay our dreams on the future. We should make life dance with hopes flying free!
Simon
zhansu_218@hotmail.com
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