Unit1
Americans believe no one stands still. If you are not moving ahead, you are falling behind.This attituderesultsina nation of people committed to researching, experimenting and exploring.Time is one of the two elements that Americans save carefully, the other being labor."We are slaves tonothingbutthe clock,” it has been said.Time is treated as if it were something almost real.Webudgetit, save it, waste it, steal it, kill it, cut it,accountforit; we alsochargeforit. It is a precious resource.Many people have a ratheracutesense of the shortness of each lifetime.Once thesandshave run out of a person’shourglass, they cannot bereplaced.We want every minute to count. Aforeigner’s first impression of the U.S. is likely to be that everyone isinarush-- oftenunderpressure.City people always appear to be hurrying to get where they are going,restlesslyseeking attention in a store, orelbowingothers as they try to complete their shopping.Racing through daytime meals is part of the pace of life in this country.Working time is considered precious.Others in public eating-places are waiting for you to finish so they, too, can be served and get back to work within the time allowed.You also find drivers will beabruptand people will push past you.You will miss smiles,briefconversations, and small exchanges with strangers.Don’t take it personally. This is because people value time highly, and they resent someone else “wasting” it beyond a certain appropriate point. Many new arrivals to the States will miss theopeningexchanges of a business call, for example.They will miss theritualinteractionthatgoeswitha welcoming cup of tea or coffee that may be aconventionin their own country.They may missleisurelybusiness chats in a restaurant or coffee house.Normally, Americans do notassesstheir visitors in such relaxedsurroundingsover extended small talk; much less do they take them out for dinner, or for around on thegolfcourse while they develop a sense of trust.Since wegenerallyassess andprobeprofessionally rather than socially, we start talking business very quickly.Time is, therefore, alwaystickingin our inner ear.Consequently, weworkhardatthe task ofsavingtime.We produce a steady flow oflabor-savingdevices; we communicate rapidly throughfaxes, phone calls oremailsrather than through personal contacts,which though pleasant, take longer -- especially given our traffic-filled streets.We, therefore,savemost personal visitingforafter-work hours or for social weekend gatherings. To us the impersonality ofelectroniccommunication has little or no relation to thesignificanceof the matterathand.In some countries no major business isconductedwithout eye contact, requiring face-to-face conversation.In America, too, a final agreement will normally be signedinperson.However, people are meetingincreasinglyon television screens, conducting “teleconferences” to settle problems not only in this country but also -- bysatellite-- internationally. The U. S. is definitely a telephone country.Almost everyone uses the telephone to conduct business, to chat with friends, to make or break social appointments, to say “Thank you,” to shop and toobtainall kinds of information.Telephones save the feet and endless amounts of time.This isduepartlytothe fact that the telephone service issuperbhere,whereasthe postal service is less efficient. Some new arrivals will come from cultures where it is considered impolite to work too quickly.Unless a certain amount of time is allowed toelapse, it seems in their eyes as if the task being consideredwereinsignificant, notworthyofproper respect.Assignments are, consequently, felt to be given added weight by the passage of time.In the U. S., however, it is taken as a sign ofskillfulnessor beingcompetentto solve a problem, orfulfilla job successfully, with speed.Usually, the more important a task is, the more capital, energy, and attention will be poured into it in order to “get it moving.”
Unit2
LearningtheOlympicStandardforLove
NikolaiPetrovichAnikinwasnothalfasintimidatingasIhadimaginedhewouldbe.No,thissurelywasnottheex-Sovietcoachmyfatherhadshippedmeoutto
meet.
ButNikolaihewas,Petrovichandall.Heinvitedmeinsideandsatdownonthecouch,pattingtheblanketnexttohimtogetmetositnexttohim.Iwassonervousinhispresence.
"Youareyoung,"hebeganinhisRussian-styleEnglish."IfyouliketotryforOlympicGames,Iguessyouwillbeabletodothis.NaganoOlympicstoosoonforyou,butfor2002
inSaltLakeCity,youcouldbeready."
"Yes,whynot?"herepliedtotheshockedlookonmyface.
Iwasapromising
amateurskier,butbynomeansthetopskierinthecountry."Ofcourse,therewillbemanyhardtrainingsessions,andyouwillcry,butyouwillimprove."
Tobesure,therewerecountlesstrainingsessionsfullofpainandmorethanafewtears,
butinthefiveyearsthatfollowed
IcouldalwayscountonbeingencouragedbyNikolai's
amusingstoriesandsenseofhumor.
"Myfriends,theygointhemovies,theygointhedance,theygooutwithgirls,"hewouldstart."ButI,"hewouldcontinue,loweringhisvoice,"Iampractice,practice,practicein
thestadium.Andbythenextyear,Ihadcut1-1/2minutesoffmytimeinthe
15-kilometerrace!
"Myfriendsaskedme,'Nikolai,howdidyoudoit?'AndIreplied,'Yougointhemovies,yougointhedance,yougooutwithgirls,butIampractice,practice,practice.'"
Herethestoryusuallyended,butononeoccasion,whichwelaterlearnedwashis25thweddinganniversary,hestoodproudlyinawornwoolensweaterandsmiledandwhispered,"AndItellyou,Iam26yearsoldbeforeIeverkissagirl!ShewasthewomanIlatermarry."
Romanticandotherwise,Nikolaiknewlove.
Hisconsistentgoodhumor,quietgratitude,perceptivity,andsinceritysetanOlympicstandardforlovethatIcontinuetoreachfor,eventhoughmyskiingdaysareover.
Still,heneverbabiedme.
OneFebruarydayIhadamassiveheadacheandfeltquite
fatigued.Icameuponhiminaclearing,andafterapproximately15minutesofstriding
intothecoldbreezeoverthewhitepowdertocatchhim,Ifussed,"Oh,Nikolai,IfeellikeIamgoingtodie."
"Whenyouareahundredyearsold,everybodydies,"hesaid,indifferenttomypain.
"Butnow,"hecontinuedfirmly."Nowmustbeski,ski,ski."And,onskis,Ididwhathesaid.
Onothermatters,though,Iwasrebellious.
Once,hepacked10ofusintoaFinnishbachelor'stinyhomeforalow-budgetskicamp.Weawoke
thefirstmorningtofindNikolaimakingbreakfastandthenmadequickworkwithourspoons
whilesittingonmakeshiftchairsaroundatinycardtable.
Whenwewerefinished,Nikolai
stackedthestickybowlsinfrontofmysolefemaleteammateandme,asserting,"Now,girlsdodishes!"
Ithrewmynapkinonthefloorandsworeathim,
"Askthedamnboys!Thisisunfair."
Heneveraskedthisofmeagain,nordidhetakemuchnoticeofmyoutburst.Hesaved
hispassionforskiing.
Whencoaching,hewouldsingouthisinstructionskeepingrhythmwithourstride:"Yes,yes,one-two-three,one-two-three."Adearladyfriendofmygrandfather,afterviewingacopyofavideoofmetrainingwithNikolai,asked,"Doeshealsoteachdance?"
Intraining,IworkedwithoutresttocorrectmistakesthatNikolaipointedoutandIaskedaftereachpassifitwasbetter.
"Yes,it'sOK.Butthefasterkneedown,thebetter.""Butisitfastenough?"I'dpersist.Finallyhewouldfrownandsay,
"Billiontimesyoumakemotion—thenbeperfect,"
remindingmeinanI've-told-you-a-billion-timestone,"Youmustbepatient."
Nikolai'spatienceandmyhardworkearnedmeafourth-placenationalrankingheading
intothepre-Olympicseason,
butthenImissedthecutforthe2002Olympics.
Lastsummer,IreturnedtovisitNikolai.Hemademetea...anddidthedishes!Wetalkedwhilesittingonhiscouch.
MissingtheOlympicTeamthepreviousyearhadmademe
pauseandreflectonwhatIhadgained—nottheleastofwhichwasaquiet,indissolublebondwithashortmaninatropicalshirt.
Nikolaitaughtmetohavethecourage,heart,anddisciplinetopersist,evenifittakesabilliontries.
Hetaughtmetobethankfulinadvanceforacenturyoflifeonearth,andto
remindmyselfeverydaythatdespitethechallengesathand,"Nowmustbelove,love,love.
Unit 3Marriage Across the NationsGail and I imagined a quiet wedding. During our two years together we had experienced the usual ups and downs of a couple learning to know, understand, and respect each other. But through it all we had honestly confronted the weaknesses and strengths of each other's characters.Our racial and cultural differences enhanced our relationship and taught us a great deal about tolerance, compromise, and being open with each other. Gail sometimes wondered why I and other blacks were so involved with the racial issue, and I was surprised that she seemed to forget the subtler forms of racial hatred in American society.Gail and I had no illusions about what the future held for us as a married, mixed couple in America. The continual source of our strength was our mutual trust and respect.We wanted to avoid the mistake made by many couples of marrying for the wrong reasons, and only finding out ten, twenty, or thirty years later that they were incompatible, that they hardly took the time to know each other, that they overlooked serious personality conflicts in the expectation that marriage was an automatic way to make everything work out right. That point was emphasized by the fact that Gail's parents, after thirty-five years of marriage, were going through a bitter and painful divorce, which had destroyed Gail and for a time had a negative effect on our budding relationship.When Gail spread the news of our wedding plans to her family she met with some resistance. Her mother, Deborah, all along had been supportive of our relationship, and even joked about when we were going to get married so she could have grandchildren. Instead of congratulations upon hearing our news, Deborah counseled Gail to be really sure she was doing the right thing."So it was all right for me to date him, but it's wrong for me to marry him. Is his color the problem, Mom?" Gail subsequently told me she had asked her mother."To start with I must admit that at first I harbored reservations about a mixed marriage, prejudices you might even call them. But when I met Mark I found him a charming and intelligent young guy. Any mother would be proud to have him for a son-in-law. So, color has nothing to do with it. Yes, my friends talk. Some even express shock at what you're doing. But they live in a different world. So you see, Mark's color is not the problem. My biggest worry is that you may be marrying Mark for the same wrong reasons that I married your father. When we met I saw him as my beloved, intelligent, charming, and caring. It was all so new, all so exciting, and we both thought, on the surface at least, that ours was an ideal marriage with every indication that it would last forever. I realized only later that I didn't know my beloved, your father, very well when we married.""But Mark and I have been together more than two years," Gail railed. "We've been through so much together. We've seen each other at our worst many times. I'm sure that time will only confirm what we feel deeply about each other.""You may be right. But I still think that waiting won't hurt. You're only twenty-five."Gail's father, David, whom I had not yet met personally, approached our decision with a father-knows-best attitude. He basically asked the same questions as Gail's mother: "Why the haste? Who is this Mark? What's his citizenship status?" And when he learned of my problems with the Citizenship department, he immediately suspected that I was marrying his daughter in order to remain in the United States."But Dad, that's harsh," Gail said."Then why the rush? Buy time, buy time," he remarked repeatedly."Mark has had problems with citizenship before and has always taken care of them himself," Gail defended." In fact, he made it very clear when we were discussing marriage that if I had any doubts about anything, I should not hesitate to cancel our plans."Her father proceeded to quote statistics showing that mixed couples had higher divorce rates than couples of the same race and gave examples of mixed couples he had counseled who were having marital difficulties."Have you thought about the hardships your children would go through?" he asked."Dad, are you a racist?""No, of course not. But you have to be realistic.""Maybe our children will have some problems, but whose children don't? But one thing they'll always have: our love and devotion.""That's idealistic. People can be very cruel toward children from mixed marriages.""Dad, we'll worry about that when the time comes. If we had to resolve all doubt before we acted, very little would ever get done.""Remember, it's never too late to change your mind."
Unti4
ATestofTrueLove
Sixminutestosix,saidthedigitalclockoverthe
informationdeskinGrandCentralStation.JohnBlandford,atallyoungarmyofficer,focusedhiseyesightontheclocktonotetheexacttime.Insixminuteshewouldseethewomanwhohadfilledaspecialplaceinhislifeforthepastthirteenmonths,awomanhehadneverseen,yetwhosewrittenwordshadbeenwithhimandhadgivenhimstrengthwithoutfail.
Soonafterhevolunteeredformilitaryservice,hehadreceivedabookfromthiswoman.Aletter,whichwishedhimcourageandsafety,camewiththebook.Hediscoveredthatmanyofhisfriends,alsointhearmy,hadreceivedtheidenticalbookfromthewoman,HollisMeynell.Andwhiletheyallgotstrengthfromit,andappreciatedhersupportoftheircause,JohnBlandfordwastheonlypersontowriteMs.Meynellback.Onthedayofhisdeparture,toadestinationoverseaswherehewouldfightinthewar,hereceivedherreply.Aboardthecargoshipthatwastakinghimintoenemyterritory,hestoodonthedeckandreadherlettertohimagainandagain.Forthirteenmonths,shehadfaithfullywrittentohim.Whenhislettersdidnotarrive,shewroteanyway,withoutdecrease.Duringthedifficultdaysofwar,herlettersnourishedhimandgavehimcourage.Aslongashereceivedlettersfromher,hefeltasthoughhecouldsurvive.Afterashorttime,hebelievedhelovedher,andshelovedhim.Itwasasiffatehadbroughtthemtogether.
Butwhenheaskedherforaphoto,shedeclinedhisrequest.Sheexplainedherobjection:"Ifyourfeelingsformehaveanyreality,anyhonestbasis,whatIlooklikewon'tmatter.SupposeI'mbeautiful.I'dalwaysbebotheredbythefeelingthatyoulovedmeformybeauty,andthatkindoflovewoulddisgustme.SupposeI'mplain.ThenI'dalwaysfearyouwerewritingtomeonlybecauseyouwerelonelyandhadnooneelse.Eitherway,Iwouldforbidmyselffromlovingyou.WhenyoucometoNewYorkandyouseeme,thenyoucanmakeyourdecision.Remember,bothofusarefreetostoportogoonafterthat—ifthat'swhatwechoose..."
Oneminutetosix...Blandford'sheartleaped.
Ayoungwomanwascomingtowardhim,andhefeltaconnectionwithherrightaway.Herfigurewaslongandthin,herspectaculargoldenhairlaybackincurlsfromhersmallears.Hereyeswereblueflowers;herlipshadagentlefirmness.Inherfancygreensuitshewaslikespringtimecomealive.
Hestartedtowardher,entirelyforgettingtonoticethatshewasn'twearingarose,andashemoved,asmall,warmsmileformedonherlips.
"Goingmyway,soldier?"sheasked.
Uncontrollably,hemadeonestepclosertoher.ThenhesawHollisMeynell.
Shewasstandingalmostdirectlybehindthegirl,awomanwellpastforty,andafossiltohisyoungeyes,herhairsportingpatchesofgray.Shewasmorethanfat;herthicklegsshookastheymoved.Butsheworearedroseonherbrowncoat.
Thegirlinthegreensuitwaswalkingquicklyawayandsoonvanishedintothefog.Blandfordfeltasthoughhisheartwasbeingcompressedintoasmallcementball,sostrongwashisdesiretofollowthegirl,yetsodeepwashislongingforthewomanwhosespirithadtrulycompanionedandbroughtwarmthtohisown;andthereshestood.Herpale,fatfacewasgentleandintelligent;hecouldseethatnow.Hergrayeyeshadawarm,kindlylook.
Blandfordresistedtheurgetofollowtheyoungerwoman,thoughitwasnoteasytodoso.Hisfingersheldthebookshehadsenttohimbeforehewentofftothewar,whichwastoidentifyhimtoHollisMeynell.Thiswouldnotbelove.However,itwouldbesomethingprecious,somethingperhapsevenlesscommonthanlove—afriendshipforwhichhehadbeen,andwouldalwaysbe,thankful.Heheldthebookouttowardthewoman.
"I'mJohnBlandford,andyou—youareMs.Meynell.I'msogladyoucouldmeetme.MayItakeyoutodinner?"Thewomansmiled."Idon'tknowwhatthisisallabout,son,"sheanswered."Thatyoungladyinthegreensuit—theonewhojustwentby—beggedmetowearthisroseonmycoat.Andshesaidthatifyouaskedmetogooutwithyou,Ishouldtellyouthatshe'swaitingforyouinthatbigrestaurantnearthehighway.Shesaiditwassomekindofatest."
Unte5
WeepingforMySmokingDaughter)
Mydaughtersmokes.Whilesheisdoingherhomework,herfeetonthebenchinfrontofherandhercalculatorclickingoutanswerstohergeometryproblems,Iamlookingatthehalf-emptypackageofCamelstossedcarelesslycloseathand.Ipickthemup,takethemintothekitchen,wherethelightisbetter,andstudythem--theyarefiltered,forwhichIamgrateful.Myheartfeelsterrible.Iwanttoweep.Infact,Idoweepalittle,standingtherebythestoveholdingoneoftheinstruments,sowhite,sopreciselyrolled,thatcouldcausemydaughter'sdeath.Whenshesmoked
MarlborosandPlayersIhardenedmyselfagainstfeelingsobad;nobodyIknewever
smokedthesebrands.
Shedoesn'tknowthis,butitwasCamelsthatmyfather,hergrandfather,
smoked.Butbeforehesmokedcigarettesmadebymanufacturers--whenhewasveryyoungandverypoor,withglowingeyes--hesmokedPrinceAlberttobaccoincigarettesherolledhimself.Irememberthebright-redtobaccotin,withapictureof
QueenVictoria'spartner,PrinceAlbert,dressedinablackdresscoatandcarryingacane.
Bythelatefortiesandearlyfiftiesnoonerolledhisownanymore(andfewwomensmoked)inmyhometownofEatonton,Georgia.Thetobaccoindustry,coupled
withHollywoodmoviesinwhichbothmaleandfemaleheroessmokedlikechimneys,
completelywonoverpeoplelikemyfather,whowerehopelesslyhookedbycigarettes.HeneverlookedasfashionableasPrinceAlbert,though;hecontinuedtolooklikeapoor,overweight,hardworkingcoloredmanwithtoolargeafamily,black,withaverywhitecigarettestuckinhismouth.
Idonotrememberwhenhestartedtocough.Perhapsitwasunnoticeableatfirst,alittlecoughinginthemorningashelithisfirstcigaretteupongettingoutofbed.BythetimeIwassixteen,mydaughter'sage,hisbreathwasawheeze,embarrassingtohear;hecouldnotclimbstairswithoutrestingeverythirdorfourthstep.Itwasnotunusualforhimtocoughforanhour.
Myfatherdiedfrom"thepoorman'sfriend",pneumonia,onehardwinterwhenhis
lungillnesseshadlefthimlow.Idoubthehadmuchlungleftatall,aftercoughing
forsomanyyears.Hehadsolittlebreaththat,duringhislastyears,hewasalways
leaningonsomething.Irememberedonce,atafamilyreunion,whenmydaughterwas
two,thatmyfatherpickedherupforaminute--longenoughformetophotographthem--buttheeffortwasobvious.Neartheveryendofhislife,andlargelybecausehehadnomorelungs,hequitsmoking.Hegainedacoupleofpounds,butbythenhewassoslimthatnoonenoticed.
WhenItraveltoThirdWorldcountriesIseemanypeoplelikemyfatherand
daughter.Therearelargeadvertisementsignsdirectedatthemboth:thetough,confidentorfashionableolderman,thebeautiful,"worldly"youngwoman,both
draggingaway.Inthesepoorcountries,asinAmericaninnercitiesandon
reservations,moneythatshouldbespentforfoodgoesinsteadtothetobaccocompanies;overtime,peoplestarvethemselvesofbothfoodandair,effectively
weakeningandhookingtheirchildren,eventuallykillingthemselves.Ireadinthe
newspaperandinmygardeningmagazinethattheendsofcigarettesareso
poisonousthatifababyswallowsone,itislikelytodie,andthattheboiledwaterfromabunchofthemmakesaneffectiveinsecticide.
ThereisadeephurtthatIfeelasamother.Somedaysitisafeelingofuselessness.
IrememberhowcarefullyIatewhenIwaspregnant,howpatientlyItaughtmydaughterhowtocrossastreetsafely.Forwhat,Isometimeswonder;sothatshecanstruggletobreathethroughmostofherlifefeelinghalfherstrength,andthendie
ofself-poisoning,ashergrandfatherdid?
Thereisaquotationfromabatteredwomen'sshelterthatIespeciallylike:"Peaceonearthbeginsathome."Ibelieveeverythingdoes.Ithinkofaquotationforpeopletryingtostopsmoking:"Everyhomeisanosmokingzone."Smokingisaformofself-batteringthatalsobattersthosewhomustsitby,occasionallyjokeorcomplain,andhelplesslywatch.IrealizenowthatasachildIsatby,throughtheyears,andliterallywatchedmyfatherkillhimself:surelyonesuchvictoryinmyfamily,fortheprosperousleaderswhoownthetobaccocompanies,isenough.
Uint6 a
For her first twenty-four years, she'd been known as Debbie—a name that didn't suit her good looks and elegant manner.
"My name has always made me think I should be a cook," she complained.
"I just don't feel like a Debbie."
One day, while filling out an application form for a publishing job, the young woman impulsivelysubstituted her middle name, Lynne, for her first name Debbie.
"That was the smartest thing I ever did," she says now.
"As soon as I stopped calling myself Debbie, I felt more comfortable with myself... and other people started to take me more seriously."
Two years after her successful job interview, the former waitress is now a successful magazine editor.
Friends and associates call her Lynne.
Naturally, the name change didn't cause Debbie/Lynne'sprofessional achievement—but it surely helped if only by adding a bit of self-confidence to hertalents
Social scientists say that what you're called can affect your life.
Throughout history, names have not merely identified people but also described them.
"As his name is, so is he." says theBible, and Webster's Dictionary includes the following definition of name: "a word or words expressing some quality considered characteristic or descriptive of a person or a thing, often expressing approval or disapproval".
Note well "approval or disapproval".
For better or worse, qualities such as friendliness or reserve, plainness or charm may be suggested by your name and conveyed to other people before they even meet you.
Names become attached to specific images, as anyone who's been called "a plain Jane" or "just an average Joe" can show.
Thelatter name particularly bothers me since my name is Joe, which some think makes me more qualified to be a baseball player than, say, an art critic.
Yet, despite this disadvantage, I did manage to become an art critic for a time.
Even so, one prominent magazine consistently refused to print "Joe" in myby-line, using my first initials, J. S., instead.
I suspect that if I were a morerefined Arthur or Adrian, the name would have appeared complete.
Of course, names with a positive sense can work for you and even encourage new acquaintances.
A recent survey showed that American men thought Susan to be the most attractive female name, while women believed Richard and David were the most attractive for men.
One woman I know turned down a blind date with a man named Harry because "he sounded dull".
Several evenings later, she came up to me at a party, pressing for an introduction to a very impressive man; they'd been exchanging glances all evening.
"Oh," I said. "You mean Harry."
She was ill at ease.
Though most of us would like to think ourselves free from such prejudiced notions, we're all guilty of name stereotyping to some extent.
"There I was, trying to get a little active boy named Julian to sit quietly and read a book—
I had their personalities confused because of their names!"
Apparently, such prejudices can affect classroom achievement as well.
In a study conducted by Herbert Harari of San Diego State University, and John McDavid of Georgia State University, teachers gave consistently lower grades on essays apparently written by boys named Elmer and Hubert than they <36>awarded to the same papers when the writers' names were given as Michael and David. However, teacher prejudice isn't the only source of classroom difference.
<37>Dr. Thomas V. Busse and Louisa Seraydarian of Temple University found those girls with names such as Linda, Diane, Barbara, Carol, and Cindy
(A companion study showed girls' <41>popularity with their peers was also related to the popularity of their names―although the connection was less clear for boys.)
Though your parents probably meant your name to last a lifetime, remember that when they picked it they'd hardly met you, and the hopes and dreams they valued when they chose it may not match yours.
If your name no longer seems to fit you, don't <42>despair;
Movie stars regularly change their names, and with some determination, you can, too.
Unit7 a
If you often feel angry and overwhelmed, like the stress in your life is spinningout of control, then you may be hurting your heart.
If you don't want to break your own heart, you need to learn to take charge of your life where you can—and recognize there are many things beyond your control.
So says Dr. Robert S. Eliot, author of a new booktitledFrom Stress to Strength:How to Lighten Your Load and Save Your Life. He's a clinicalprofessor of medicine at the University of Nebraska.
Eliot says there are people in this world that he calls "hot reactors".
For these people, being tensemay cause tremendous and rapid increases in their blood pressure.
Eliot says researchers have found that stressed people have higher cholesterollevels, among other things.
"We've done years of work in showing that excess alarm or stress chemicals can literally burst heart muscle fibers.
When that happens it happens very quickly, within five minutes. It creates many short circuits, and that causes crazy heart rhythms.
Eliot, , suffered a heart attack at age 44.
Heattributessome of the cause to stress.
For years he was a "hot reactor".
On the exterior, he was cool, calm and collected, but on the interior, stress was killing him. He's now doing very well.
The main predictors of destructive levels of stress are the FUD factors—fear, uncertainty and doubttogether with perceived lack of control, he says.
For many people, the root of their stress is anger, and the trick is to find out where the anger is coming from.
"Does the anger come from a feeling that everything must be perfect?" Eliot asks.
"That's very common in professional women.
They think, 'I should, I must, I have to.'
Perfectionistscannot delegate.
They get angry that they have to carry it all, and they blow their tops.
"Others are angry because they have no compass in life.
And they give the same emphasisto a traffic jam> that they give a family argument," he says.
"If you are angry for more than five minutes—ifyoustir the anger within you and let it build with no safetyoutlet—you have to find out where it's coming from."
"What happens is that the hotter people get, physiologically, with mental stress, the more likely they are to blow apart with some heart problem."
One step to calming down is to recognize you have this tendency.
Learn to be less hostile by changing some of your attitudes and negative thinking.
Eliotrecommendstaking charge of your life.
"If there is one word that should be substituted for stress, it's control.
Instead of the FUD factors, what you want is the NICE factors—new, interesting, challenging experiences."
"You have to decide what parts of your life you can control," he says. "Stop where you are on your trail and say, 'I'm going to get my compass out and find out what I need to do.'"
He suggests that people write down the six things in their lives that they feel are the most important things they'd like to achieve.
Ben Franklin did it at age 32.
"He wrote down things like being a better father, being a better husband, being financially>independent beingstimulated intellectually and remainingeven-tempered—he wasn't good at that."
Eliot says you can first make a list of 12 things, then cut it down to 6 and set your priorities.
"Don't give yourself impossible things, but things that will affect your identity, control andself-worth."
"Put them on a note card and take it with you and look at it when you need to.
Since we can't create a 26-hour day we have to decide what things we're going to do."
"The kids grow up, the dog dies and you change your priorities."
From Eliot'sviewpoint, the other key to controlling stress is to "realize that there are other troublesome parts of your life over which you can have little or no control—like the economy andpoliticians".
You have to realize that sometimes with things like traffic jams, deadlinesand unpleasant bosses "You can't fight. You can'tflee. You have to learn how to flow."
Unit8 a
Reading a survey report on first-year college students, I recalled the regret,
According to the survey based on responses from over 188,000 students,
Not surprising in these hard times,
Less important than ever is developing a meaningful philosophy of life.
On the other hand, <13>enrollment in business programs, engineering and computer science is way up.
That's no surprise either.
A friend of mine (a sales representative for a chemical company) was making twice the salary of college instructors during her first year on the job—even before she completed her two-year associate degree.
"I'll tell them what they can do with their music, history, literature, etc.," she was fond of saying. And that was four years ago;
Frankly, I'm proud of the young lady (not her attitude but her success).
Most people, somewhere between the ages of 30 and 50,
Sure, everyone wants to be financially comfortable,
While it's true all of us need a career, <27>preferably a prosperous one,
It is equally true that, in studying the <32>diverse <33>wisdom of others, we learn how to think.
No company, no job.
How <35>short-sighted in the long run.
one of them is talking on the <39>intercom: "Miss Baxter," he says, "could you please send in someone who can <40>distinguish right from wrong?"
I think it can be.
My college <41>roommate, now head of a large shipping company in New York, not surprisingly was a business major.
But he also hosted a <42>classical music show on the college's <43>FM station and listened to Wagner as he studied his accounting.
That's the way it should be.
There's a lot more to life than a job.
第八单元
It has often been remarked that the saddest thing about youth is that it is wasted on the young.Reading a survey report on first-year college students, I recalled the regret, "If only I knew then what I know now."The survey revealed what I had already suspected from informal polls of students both in Macon and at the Robins Resident Center: if it (whatever it may be) won't compute and you can't drink it, smoke it or spend it, then "it" holds little value.According to the survey based on responses from over 188,000 students, today's college beginners are "more consumeristic and less idealistic" than at any time in the seventeen years of the poll.Not surprising in these hard times, the students' major objective "is to be financially well off. Less important than ever is developing a meaningful philosophy of life." Accordingly, today the most popular course is not literature or history but accounting.Interest in teaching, social service and the humanities is at a low, along with ethnic and women's studies. On the other hand, enrollment in business programs, engineering and computer science is way up.That's no surprise either. A friend of mine (a sales representative for a chemical company) was making twice the salary of college instructors during her first year on the job — even before she completed her two-year associate degree."I'll tell them what they can do with their (music, history, literature, etc.)," she was fond of saying. And that was four years ago; I tremble to think what she's earning now.Frankly, I'm proud of the young lady (not her attitude but her success). But why can't we have it both ways? Can't we educate people for life as well as for a career? I believe we can.If we can not, then that is a conviction against our educational system — kindergarten, elementary, secondary and higher. In a time of increasing specialization, a time when 90 percent of all the scientists who have ever lived are currently alive, more than ever, we need to know what is truly important in life.This is where age and maturity enter. Most people, somewhere between the ages of 30 and 50, finally arrive at the inevitable conclusion that they were meant to do more than serve a corporation, a government agency, or whatever.Most of us finally have the insight that quality of life is not entirely determined by a balance sheet. Sure, everyone wants to be financially comfortable, but we also want to feel we have a perspective on the world beyond the confines of our occupation; we want to be able to render service to our fellow man and to our God.If it is a fact that the meaning of life does not dawn until middle age, is it then not the duty of educational institutions to prepare the way for that revelation? Most people, in their youth, resent the Social Security deductions from their pay, yet a seemingly few short years later find themselves standing anxiously by the mailbox.While it's true all of us need a career, preferably a prosperous one, it is equally true that our civilization has collected an incredible amount of knowledge in fields far removed from our own. And we are better for our understanding of these other contributions — be they scientific or artistic. It is equally true that, in studying the diverse wisdom of others, we learn how to think. More importantly, perhaps, education teaches us to see the connections between things, as well as to see beyond our immediate needs.Weekly we read of unions that went on strike for higher wages, only to drive their employer out of business. No company, no job. How shortsighted in the long run.But the most important argument for a broad education is that in studying the accumulated wisdom of the ages, we improve our moral sense. I saw a cartoon recently which depicts a group of businessmen looking puzzled as they sit around a conference table; one of them is talking on the intercom: "Miss Baxter," he says, "could you please send in someone who can distinguish right from wrong?"In the long run that's what education really ought to be about. I think it can be. My college roommate, now head of a large shipping company in New York, not surprisingly was a business major. But he also hosted a classical music show on the college's FM station and listened to Wagner as he studied his accounting.That's the way it should be. Oscar Wilde had it right when he said we ought to give our ability to our work but our genius to our lives.Let's hope our educators answer students' cries for career education, but at the same time let's ensure that students are prepared for the day when they realize their shortsightedness. There's a lot more to life than a job
第九单元
“Get yourself up and make something of yourself, buddy,!”though she has passedaway ,my mother is words are as clear in my head today as Iwas a boy .
She may have bad my interestsat heart ,but form my standpoint at the time ,her less than tender approach to parenting was the equivalent of bamboo torture treatment .
Christ,Iutter ,Ihave made something of myself . Iam entitled to sleep late
If there`s one thing Ican`t stand ,it `s a quitter her voice in my head is more powerful than my will to refuse .so Ipull myself form bed .
My father died after fiver years of marriage .my mother didn`t have any money after he died .she had three babiesto care for and lots of bills to pay .she had just startedcollege .but she had to quit to look for work . when we lost our house with nothing but scatteredpieces of a life to pick up .my insane grandmother who was dying had to be institutinonalized and we all had to take shelter withher brother allen .she eventually found work as a grocer at a supermarket at ten dollars a week .
Mother ,although hopeful that Iwould make millions ,never deceived herself about my abilities to do so .and so she pushed me toward working with words form an early age .
Words ran in her family .the most spectacular proof was my mother`s first cousin Edwin,he was my managing editor of the new york times and had gained a name for himself shile covering the Cubanmissile crisis .she often used Edwinas an example of how far an ambitious man could get without much talent
Edwinjames was so smarter than anybody else though a littlefaster as a typist .and look where he is today .my mother said ,and said ,and said .
Her early identification of my own gift for words gave her purpose and from then on .her whole life started to revolve around helping me to develop my talents. Though very poor .she signed us up for a set of books for intermediate and advanced readers .one book arriver by mail each month for just 39 cents .
What Iread with joy ,though were newspapers . Ilappedup every word about monstrous crimes .awful accident and terrible acts committed against people in faraway wars and the refugees who had to escape form their home countries .accounts of police corruption and murderers dying in the electric fascinated me .
In 1947 Igraduated form johnsHopkinsand applied for a job with the Baltimore sun as a police reporter ,why they picked me was a mystery ,it paid ＄30 a week .when Icomplained the wage was humiliating for learned man ,mother refused to sympathize.
If you work hard at this job .she said maybe you can make somethingof it
After a while Iwas given an assignment to cover .diplomats at various Africanembassies .then .seven years after Istarted . Iwas assigned by the sun to cover the white house .reporting form the oval office was as close to heaven as a journalist could get .i looked forward to seeing the delight on my mother`s face when Itold her .considering the onward and upward course she had set for me .i should have known better,
Well .russ ,she said .if you work hard at this white house job .you might be able to make something of yourself
Her weak praise didn`t correspond to my achievement .no matter what Idid .any accomplishmentof mine only seemed margined in her eyes ‘this would often make me crazy .she would never congratulate me or make any concession that Iwas doing great things. There was alwayssomething negative to be said even whenIsucceeded
Even if you get to the top .you have to watch out .she was always keen to point out .the bigger they come .the harder they fall
Uncle Edwin`s success was a sincere nuisance during my early years as a reporter . what a thrill . Ithough .if Iwere to be hired by the times thus proving my worth to my mother once and for all .
Then .out of my wildest childhood fantasy .the times came knocking .it was sad that uncle Edwinhad departed by this time .eventually .i would be offered one of the most prized assignments for which a reporter could possibly hope .a regular opinion piece in the new york times
It was proof that my mother`s scheme to push me toward literature from an early age had been absolutety right
In 1979 Ireached the summit of my professional career winning a major award .namely the Pulitzerprize /unfortunately .my mother`s brain and overall health collapsed the years before leaving her in a nursing home .out of touch with life forevermore .she never knew of my Pulitzer
Ican probably guess how she`d have responded .that`s nice .buddy it shows if you work hard .you`ll be able to make something of yourself one of these days.
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