Kunta wondered why the white people had done this to him. Born a free man, he was now in chains. Heavy iron chains around his feet and hands were fixed to a metal bar that ran round the hall about ten centimeters off the ground. He was just able to lie down on the ground, but could not stand up.

    Kunta had been seized in the forest and then hit on the head with a hard object. When he woke up, his hands and feet had already been tied together. What shocked him most was that the men who carried him were black. He reasoned with them, and tried to persuade them to set him free. But they would not listen to him. When they came to the river, a white man was waiting in the boat for them. There was an argument about money, so it seemed, in a language that Kunta did not understand. Finally, Kunta was thrown into the bottom of the boat and covered with an old smelly cloth. The men took him in their boat to the castle on the coast where he was now held prisoner.

    Another thing which shocked Kunta was that women were held in the castle too. He could hear their crying, also children's voices. What was to become of them all, he wondered. For all his life, he had known that people suddenly disappeared from their villages. He had known that it was not safe to travel alone in the forest near the coast. But why did white people want to catch Africans and put them in chains? Would they be killed or even eaten? The situation seemed hopeless and he knew his life was in danger.

    Worse was to come. A few days later about 140 black people were taken and put on a tall sailing ship waiting off the coast. Once on the boat, they were taken below and their chains were fixed to two bars that ran the length of the ship. Their feet were fixed to one bar and their hands to another bar. Thus they lay on hard wooden boards, unable to stand up or move around.

    The sea journey lasted over sixty days and nights. They had rough weather and Kunta's back bled from rolling over on the hard wooden boards. Many of the men fell sick with fever. They sighed and cried out for more water, but food and water were only given out once a day. Once in a while sailors came down, Kunta thought, to carry sick men upstairs for treatment. When the ship finally arrived in a port, the wooden cover was opened wide and Kunta could see in daylight for the first time across the part of the ship where he had been chained. About a third of the people who had been chained up below at the beginning of the journey were missing.

    Sure, it's good to get along with your teacher because it makes the time you spend in the classroom more pleasant. And yes, it's good to get along with your teacher because, in general, it's smart to learn how to relate to the different types of people you'll meet throughout your life. But really, there's one super-important reason why you should get along with your teacher. Kids who get along with their teachers not only learn more, but they're more comfortable asking question and getting extra help. This makes it easier to understand new materials and do yours best on tests.

    When you have this kind of relationship with a teacher, he or she can be someone to turn to with problems, such as problems with learning or school issues.

    As a kid in elementary or middle school, you're at a wonderful stage in your life. You're like a sponge (海绵), able to suck up lots of new and exciting information. On top of that, you're able to think about all this information in new ways. Your teacher knows that, and in most cases, is thrilled to be the person who's giving you all that material and helping you put it together. Remember, teachers are people, too, and they feel great if you're open to what they're teaching you. That's why they wanted to be teachers in the first place to teach!

    Some kids may be able to learn in any setting, whether they like the teacher or not. But most kids are sensitive to the way they get along with the teacher, and if things aren't going well, they won't learn as well and won't enjoy being in class.

    This day three foreign gentlemen came to a bus stop in England and waited. About five minutes later, the bus they wanted came along. They were just going to get on when suddenly there was a loud noise behind them. People rushed onto the bus and tried to push them out of the way. Someone shouted at them. The bus conductor came rushing down the stairs to see what the trouble was about. The three foreigners seemed all at sea and looked embarrassed. No one had told them about the British custom of lining up for a bus — the first person who arrives at the bus stop is the first person to get on the bus.

    Learning the language of a country isn't enough. If you want to have a pleasant visit, find out as much as possible about the manners and customs of your host country. You will probably be surprised just how different they can be from your own. A visitor to India would do well if he/she knows that people there consider it impolite to use the left hand for passing food at table. The left hand is supposed to be used for washing yourself. Also in India, you might see a man shaking his head to show that he doesn't agree. But in many parts of India a shake of the head means agreement. Nodding your head when you are given a drink in Bulgaria will probably leave you thirsty.

    At a meal in countries on the Arabic Peninsula, you will find that your glass is repeatedly refilled as soon as you drink up. If you think that you have had enough, you should take the cup or glass in your hand and give it a little shake from side to side or place your hand over the top.

    In Europe it is quite usual to cross your legs when you are sitting talking to someone even at an important meeting. Doing this in Thailand, however, could cause trouble. Also, you should try to avoid touching the head of an adult — it's just not done in Thailand.

    About 15 years ago, I taught A Problem from Hell, a book on genocides (大屠杀), to a group of 18- and 19-year-olds in a mid-west university in the US. In my class there was a young man who had spent his boyhood in Bosnia as NATO bombed his hometown. My other students, amazed by his connection to the genocide in the textbook, asked him what it was like to grow up in a war-zone. "A pretty normal childhood as you had here," he said. "We played cards inside a lot, and when there was no bombing we kicked a ball in the street."

    In the past few years, the world has seen a rapid increase in refugees (难民), with the number hitting 60 million. Viet Thanh Nguyen's story collection The Refugees reminds us that literature is news that stays news. Set in the Vietnamese communities in California as well as in Vietnam, the stories do not aim to surprise us with new twists or shock us with wonderful details, as war and refugee stories could easily choose to do. Rather, like the young man from Bosnia, Nguyen's characters tell these stories because they are the only ones known to them.

    Included in the collection are two of the most touching pieces, both about siblings (兄弟或姊妹) separated by geography and history. In "Black-Eyed Women", the narrator (讲述人), a young Vietnamese woman, is visited by the ghost of her elder brother, who died young on the boat when the family took flight from the war. The tale of love and loss, violence and violation, may not be unfamiliar to the reader, but the determination of the brother's ghost (he has taken decades to swim across the Pacific to reach America) and the sister's abandoning herself to a half death make the story lasting.

    As an echo, the closing story, "Fatherland", explores a more complex situation between two siblings. The narrator, a young Vietnamese woman, meets her half-sister, visiting from the US for the first time. Adding to the tension is the fact that her father has named the narrator and her siblings after his first set of children. Two sisters, one American and one Vietnamese, yet named the same by the father – it may sound strange, but isn't it the fate many refugees have to face: a life left behind, that could have been theirs; and a life in an adopted country.

    The theme of doubleness –  choice and inevitability (不可避免性), home and homelessness, starting afresh and being stuck – is present not only in the stories of Vietnamese refugees, but also of those who have become refugees from their own homes and loved ones. "Smiling at your relatives never got you very far, but smiling at strangers and acquaintances sometimes did." So a pilot, who fought in the Vietnam war and is now revisiting the country for the first time, thinks while waving at the locals from a tour bus. He's distant from his daughter, just as a Mexican American in the collection is distant from his wife, or a young man from Hong Kong is distant from his father.

    The collection is full of refugees, whether from external or from a deeper, more internal conflict between even those who are closest to each other. With anger but not despair, with reconciliation (和解) but not unrealistic hope, and with genuine humour that is not used to insult anyone, Nguyen has breathed life into many unforgettable characters.

    Basketball Statistician Help Wanted

    The Athletic Department is looking for students to assist staff during the Fall 2016, Winter 2016-17 and Spring 2017 semesters. Students in this position will be keeping live statistics during basketball games. Students must meet all of the following requirements:

    Good computer skills

    Available evenings and weekends

    Knowing basketball rules and statistics

    Students interested in working for the Athletic Department should contact the Athletic Coordinator at their respective(各自的) campuses.

    TP/SS Athletic Coordinator, Michael Simone,240-567-1308

    Rockville Athletic Coordinator, Jorge Zuniga,240-567-7589

    Springfield Athletic coordinator, Gary Miller,240-567-2273

    Germantown Athletic Coordinator, GavriChavan, 240-567-6915

    There lived in South Carolina a young woman named Eliza Lucas. Her father was governor of one of the islands of the West Indies. Miss Lucas often got seeds from her father, and then she planted them in South Carolina.

    Once, her father sent her some seeds of the indigo (靛蓝) plant. She planted some of them in March, but a frost (霜冻) came and killed all her plants. However, she decided to plant some more seeds in April. These grew very well until a cutworm found them and ate her plants. Once more Miss Lucas planted some of the seeds. This time the plants grew very well. She wrote to her father about it. He sent her a man who knew how to get the indigo out of the plant.

    However, the man tried not to show Miss Lucas how to make the indigo. He did not want the people in South Carolina to learn how to make it. He was afraid his own people would not get so much money for their indigo if other people made it as well. So he destroyed the indigo on purpose. But Miss Lucas watched him closely. She worked out how the indigo could be made. Some of her father's land in South Carolina was now planted with the indigo plant.

    Then Miss Lucas got married, and became Mrs. Pinckney. Her father gave her all the indigo growing on his land in South Carolina. It was all saved for seeds. Mrs Pinckney gave some of the seeds to her friends while her husband sowed others. They all grew and were made into the blue dye(染料) that we call indigo. In a few years, South Carolina was producing more than a million pounds of indigo every year. All the people were grateful to her.