“Would you say you are more of a scientist or an artist?” I commonly heard this question as I was preparing to start my neuroscience doctoral program, often after I told my teachers and classmates that I love writing poetry. I learned to respond, “A scientist” — not because it was necessarily true, but because I felt it would win me more respect. As an undergraduate, poetry had been a way for me to relax. But in grad school, I wanted to be seen as just as devoted to my work as those around me, who appeared completely undisturbed by nonscientific hobbies. So, I left my poetry by the wayside — but it wasn’t long before I felt a huge void (空虚) in my life.
By the second year of my Ph.D. , my paper project had become very boring and tiring and I was starting to burn out. One afternoon, a student mentioned the weekly event held by the university’s poetry club, of which she was a leader. After hearing how much I enjoyed poetry, she declared, “You should come!” A few days later, I sat in a crowded cafe, excited to be here and to be a part of it.
Through reading and writing poems, I rediscovered how to relax. However, I still worried about appearing less than fully dedicated to my science. So, when a senior grad student in my lab whispered, “I hear you love poetry!” I froze. My heart began to race. She went on to invite me to perform at our department’s art gala (联欢会). “By the way, Cheryl will be performing!” she added.
I was surprised to discover that Cheryl, our lab’s principal investigator, was a dancer. I excitedly sought her out, and we spoke for more than an hour about how science and art could intertwine (交织). She explained that my skill at picking up patterns in experimental results was the same one I used to create rhymes in my poems. With Cheryl as a model, I decided to perform at the gala, for once not feeling I had anything to hide.
注意：1. 续写词数应为150个左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
The night of the gala, I was amazed at the talent of the performers.
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Since then, I decided to be my whole self.
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My husband and I had purchased the piano so our son and daughter could take piano lessons. But I had a secret dream that I did not share with anyone: I wanted to learn to play the piano and so that I could sit on a piano bench and perform one day.
Days later, I passed our announcement board, which listed items for sale, various jobs, and at the bottom, someone was offering piano lessons.
My voice trembled (颤抖) when I called the number the next day. When the tutor named Melody learned that I was the student, she hesitated. She had never taught a busy adult learner, but she was willing to try if I was determined to learn.
When my first lesson ended as arranged, Melody opened the door to her next student, a six-year-old boy full of enthusiasm. Melody introduced us and told me his name was Jeff. “I’m going to learn to play the piano,” he told me. No doubts or insecurities got in the boy’s way. His enthusiasm struck me, and on my way home, I whispered, “I’m going to learn to play the piano.”
However, I wasn’t a star pupil. I didn’t have instant recall on how to read music. Getting both hands to cooperate was difficult and then I was introduced to the pedal (踏板). Maybe I had been just too psychologically stressed out. Consequently, Melody blamed me for not practicing enough. Therefore, I had to look at my tight schedule to see where I could make time to improve myself.
The following week, Melody told me I would need to participate in the December performance and that I had to play by memory. I would have one month to memorize two pieces and I hadn’t even seen them yet! I was in despair and wanted to give up. “It’s the conventional (依照惯例的) way,” Melody said to me in a firm voice, “and even Jeff is memorizing the pieces he is playing. Think why you came here!”
注意：1. 续写词数应为150左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
Her words suddenly had reminded me of my secret dream.
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My family immigrated to Canada when I was about one year old. In those early years, we did not have much money. Our home was a simple rented apartment, which was rather poorly furnished. There certainly was not enough money for expensive outings. As a result, our weekends were filled with simple pleasures that we could do for free, like picnics, bike rides, and my favorite—trips to the library.
Thanks to the library’s children’s section, I fell in love with stories—silly ones, moving ones, and even educational ones. I would have my parents read the books that we borrowed over and over again until we needed to return them, or I would page through them myself, imagining the stories in my head, even though I was too young to read the words.
When I was about five years old and finally started to read on my own, I had a curious thought: I knew we could get books from the library or buy them in store s if we had the money, but where did books come from?
I asked my mother this question, to which she replied that the stories I loved were created in the imaginations of people called “writers” These people then wrote them down so they could be s hared with others.
Four decades later, I still remember that moment. It was as though I had been struck by lightning. Then and there, I knew my purpose in this world. I would be one of those writers. I would create stories and share them with the world.
注意：1. 续写词数应为150左右；
2. 开头已给出。
Paragraph 1:
As a young child, I began writing by making up stories about animals or my toys.
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Paragraph 2:
After a few years of constant writing practice, my hard work eventually paid off.
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