2 . As the Editor-in-Chief of Cosmopolitan magazine, Jessica Pels is responsible for managing the content of one of the world’s largest young women’s media brands. Pels has ambitiously navigated her career to the top role relatively quickly, but the path she took wasn’t traditional.

Pels learnt ballet as a child and found her way to New York City dancing for a summer, but eventually gave up dance when she knew she “wasn’t good enough to be a star”. She didn’t give up her dream of working in the big city, though. Pels attended a film school at New York University and as a sophomore (大学二年级), got her first internship at The New Yorker. After graduation in 2008, many brands were in a hiring freeze. But Pels was not affected. She got a job doing communications for a charity.

Six months into her first job, Pels got a job at Glamour Magazine to work for the Editor-in-Chief Cindy Levy. She would turn this first assistant role into her career, and finally found her way to Cosmopolitan, where she became the youngest editor-in-chief in the magazine’s history.

Reflecting on her career and the worst advice she’s ever received, Pels said it was “to say yes to everything”. It was a habit she had to learn to break. And while she acknowledges the importance of seizing opportunities, she doesn’t think that strategically saying “no” would have been a damage to her career.

She remembers the conversation with her boss Kate Lewis that changed her perspective on over-committing. “I had just started at Marie Claire as the digital director, and she said, ‘I worry you’re going to burn out because you’re saying yes to everything and you are acting in such an aggressive way, and you need to take a step back and prioritize.’ And that really changed my life. I thought that was an incredible career moment.”

4 . An 89-year-old man, Manfred Steiner, has reached a goal he spent 20 years working toward and nearly a lifetime thinking about: earning his Ph. D. And now he is a physicist

Steiner values this degree because it is what he always wanted and because he overcame health problems that could have affected his studies. “But I made it, and this was the most satisfactory point in my life, to finish it,” he said.

When he was young, Steiner wanted to become a physicist after reading about Albert Einstein. But his mother and uncle persuaded him that studying medicine would be a better choice. He earned his medical degree in 1955 and moved to the US soon after.

Steiner studied hematology（血液学）at Tufts University and biochemistry at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He became a full professor and led the hematology department at Browns’ medical school from 1985 to 1994. Steiner helped establish a research program in hematology at the University of North Carolina. He directed that program until he retired from medicine in 2000.

Steiner found medical research pleasing, but it was not quite the same as his interest in physics. “It was something like a wish that was never fulfilled, that always stuck in the back of my head,” he said. At age 70, he started taking undergraduate classes.

Physics professor Brad Marston was surprised when Steiner entered his quantum mechanics class. But he became Steiner’s adviser for his dissertation（学位论文）after realizing how serious Steiner was about the subject and how hard he worked. “He has written many papers in medical science, more papers than I’ve written in physics,” Marston said. “One thing that’s really true about Manfred is that he perseveres.”

After the university published a story about Steiner on its website, people across the US contacted him to ask for advice on how to go after their dreams later in life. His advice is: Do what you love to do.

6 . Kathleen Rooney knew that writing Cher Ami and Major Whittlesey, from the point of view of a pigeon, was a risk. Rooney, perhaps best known for her 2017 bestseller, Lillian Boxfish Takes a Walk, says her interest in a feathered narrator was excited by one of her students at DePaul University, where she is an English professor. “A student named Brian mentioned Cher Ami in a poem. It blew my mind that this pigeon was so heroic and is stuffed and on display in the Smithsonian National Museum of American History.”

Rooney learned that Cher Ami, a British homing pigeon, helped save a group of American troops during a horrific, multi-day World War I battle. The story of this amazing pigeon and the extraordinary man who commanded the battle, Major Charles Whittlesey, was altogether attractive.

In Cher Ami and Major Whittlesey, Charles reflects on his happier prewar days in New York City, where he ran a law firm with a college classmate. When it came time for battle, though, he and his fellows found themselves cut off from supply lines, surrounded by enemy German troops.

Carrier pigeons were the group’s only hope of contacting headquarters and getting the other Americans to stop dropping bombs on them. Cher Ami flew through gunfire to deliver Charles' message, which finally stopped the attack. She lost an eye and a leg, among other wounds, but was eventually able to hobble (蹒跚) on a tiny wooden prosthesis (义肢) that the Army made for her. She lived another year before dying of her injuries in 1919, but in the novel she continues speaking to readers behind glass in the Smithsonian where she’s been since her death.

There’s an interesting lesson to be learned from Charles’ decisions in the battle, too. “He was famous for something we’d describe as passive,” Rooney says. “Once they were in the pocket, he waited as long as he could. I’m an impatient, active person ... His act was stillness, waiting, keeping everybody’s spirits up. The way he did that was amazing.”

Rooney also hopes the book, with its portrayal of the charming and brave Cher Ami, will boost the appreciation of our furry and feathered friends.

8 . The three men sat in the truck, unaware of the hot Nevada sun. Their attention was focused on a fourth man, middle-aged, tall slender, and rather well dressed for the desert-like land of the Carson River Valley. He walked purposefully over the sandy soil, systematically covering the area of a gentle rise. In his outstretched hands was a Y-shaped tree branch.

“I feel silly about this,” one of the men in the truck said. “What he's doing is contrary to all my beliefs.”

“Just you wait” one of the other two told him. “Then you won't feel so silly anymore.”

At length, the man with the branch stopped his walking. The stick he carried by the two ends of the Y no longer pointed toward the sky. Instead, it was pointing to the ground with a definite swinging motion.

“That's it,” one of the men in the truck called. He jumped over the side and ran toward the man with the stick. Within minutes, a stake had been driven into the ground at the point where the forked stick was pointing. Early the next morning，a drilling rig (钻机) lowered its bit into the earth at the same point and mechanical digging began. Less than twenty feet down, the drill stuck something the man who said he felt silly had been seeking for months: water.

It had been an uncommonly dry summer, even for that part of Nevada. One well had gone dry, and livestock were thirsty. Previous attempts at well drilling had failed, government geologists and soil engineers had gone over the area with maps, testing equipment, and sounding device. The best they could accomplish for the farmer was a gloomy series of dry holes. All the farmer had to show for his faith in men of science was a considerable drilling bill and a thirsty herd.

He had felt silly because he had been pushed by desperation into listening to some of his neighbours who suggested he try a water witch: the man with the forked stick.

After the well was completed and plenty water flowed forth, the farmer smiled nervously as he paid the water witch his twenty-five-dollar fee. “It seems so crazy to be doing this,” he said. Perhaps part of the craziness came because the farmer was a university graduate, a teacher of science at a nearby high school. However, even odder was the water witch's request for anonymity. “I don't mind you telling people you had searched for water through the use of a diving rod,” the water witch had said, “but I'll be grateful to you if you don't mention my name in any way that gets into print. I don't think my boss would like it.”

9 . Road trip stories are basically wild adventures of self-discovery. But the book Me (Moth) carves out a path through ancestry (祖先), pains and art.

Moth is a dancer with a loving, supportive family - until a terrible car accident takes them all away. Now she doesn't dance any more and lives with her sad aunt, wearing borrowed clothes and living on what feels like borrowed time, because not even the wisdom and Hoodoo (扶都教) passed down to her by her grandfather can bring back her family or ease her pain. Her survivor's guilt is so strong that she makes herself almost invisible.

Until the new boy at school, Sani, notices her. He sings when he thinks no one is listening and he sees Moth like no one else does. The two young people decide on a road trip across the country and hope to make some sense of their life on the way.

Novels in poetic language can sometimes feel awkward, but the book, Me (Moth) spills effortlessly across the page, becoming the song that Moth and Sani write together on their journey. It's all in Moth's voice, and her words dance, giving the reader a real sense of how she can move her body if she isn't afraid to. The language is sometimes so beautiful and terrible that it catches me off guard.

During their trip to the South, Moth and Sani stop to pay respect to the spirits of those who came before them, and to think about their strengths as well as the pains that they've suffered. As they do so, their own strengths and pains are connected with the ones that came before.

10 . As we slide even closer to Father's Day during these pandemic （流行病）times, I can’ t help but feel super privileged to tell you about one extraordinary dad. He's a dad so good that after he was done raising his own kids, he took to YouTube to do some more dadding to millions of complete and total strangers in need.

Rob Kenney's childhood had a theme that, sadly, is not at all uncommon for American kids: fatherlessness. His father left his family when he was just twelve years old, and statistics say that lines up with the experience of about 25% of kids today. Many lessons a dad would teach a kid, he just had to learn on his own. However, Kenney swore that his own kids would not have that experience, and after successfully raising two kids into two adults, he's branching out to help fatherless kids just like him in the coolest way possible.

Kenney has started a YouTube channel called “Dad, How Do I?" to show fatherless kids a variety of “how to' s" over the everyday tasks of living. From “how to tie a tie" to "how to shave your face" to "how to check your car's oil" , Kenney’s videos are readily understood, though almost entirely unedited.

In the past week, thanks to some viral posts on Twitter and Facebook by influencers, Kenney's channel has gone from a handful of subscribers to 1.97 million! It just goes to show you how much his " Practical 'Dadvice'   for everyday tasks" is needed and appreciated by fatherless kids everywhere --- not to mention adults who just simply don ' t know how to do stuff. The viewers ' comments on Kenney's YouTube channel can move even the hard-hearted to tears.