More than a decade ago, cognitive scientists John Bransfgord and Daniel Schwartz, both then at Vanderbilt University, found that knowledge was not the ability to retain facts or apply previous knowledge to a new situation but a quality they called "preparation for future learning." The researches asked fifth graders and college students to create a recovery plan to protect bald eagles from extinction. Shockingly, the two groups came up with plans of similar quality (though the college students had better spelling skills). From the standpoint of a traditional educator, this outcome indicated that schooling had failed to help students think about ecosystems and extinction, major scientific ideas.

    The researches decided to go deeper, however. They asked both groups to generate questions about important issues needed to create recovery plans. On this task, they found large differences. College students focused on critical issues. The college students had cultivated the ability to ask questions, the foundation of critical thinking. They had learned how to learn.

    Museums and other institutions of informal learning may be more suitable to teach this skill than elementary and secondly schools. At the Exploratorium in San Francisco, we recently studied how learning to ask good questions can affect the quality of people's scientific inquiry. We found that when we taught participants to ask "What if?" and "How can?" questions that nobody present would know the answer to and that would spark exploration, they engaged in better inquiry at the next exhibit—asking more questions, performing more experiments and making better interpretations of their results. Specially, their questions became more comprehensive at the new exhibit.

    This type of learning is not limited to museums of institutional settings. Informal learning environment tolerate failure better than schools. Perhaps many teachers have too little time to allow students to form and pursue their own questions and too much ground to cover in the curriculum. But people must acquire this skill somewhere. Our society depend on them being able to make critical decisions about their own medical treatment, says, or what we must do about global energy needs and demands. For that, we have a robust informal system that gives no grades, takes all comers, and is available even on holidays and weekends.

    Leonardo da Vinci, one of the greatest thinkers in the world, began his career as an artist. Very little is known about Leonardo's early life. He was born in 1452 in the town of Vinci. As a boy, Leonardo showed a great interest in drawing, sculpting and observing nature.

    However, because Leonardo was born to parents who were not married to each other, he was barred from some studies and professions. He trained as an artist after moving to Florence with his father in the 1460s. It was an exciting time to be in Florence, one of the cultural capitals of Europe. Leonardo trained with one of the city's very successful artists, Andrea del Verrocchio. He was a painter, sculptor and gold worker. Verrocchio told his students that they needed to understand the body's bones and muscles when drawing people.

    Leonardo took the teacher's advice very seriously. He spent several periods of his life studying the human body by taking apart and examining dead bodies. While training as an artist, Leonardo also learned about and improved on relatively new painting methods at the time. One was the use of perspective(透视) to show depth. A method called “sfumato” helped to create a cloudy effect to suggest distance. “Chiaroscuro” is a method using light and shade as a painterly effect.

    Leonardo's first known portrait now hangs in the National Gallery in Washington, D. C. He made this painting of a young woman named Ginevra de' Benci around 1474. The woman has a pale face with dark hair. In the distance, Leonardo painted the Italian countryside.

    He soon received attention for his extraordinary artistic skills. Around 1475 he was asked to draw an angel in Verrocchio's painting “Baptism of Christ.” One story says that when Verrocchio saw Leonardo's addition to the painting, he was so amazed by his student's skill that he said he would never paint again.

    If a stranger offered you money to keep a suitcase in your spare room，would you accept? How about the other way round：if you had too many belongings，would you consider trusting someone you met online with their safekeeping? Anthony Paine believed enough of us would answer “yes” to these questions to launch his own startup(新兴公司)，Stashbee．His business links people with space to those who need it．

    And it's just one player in the booming “sharing economy”，an industry that relies on people renting out things like their beds，bikes and even parking spaces．Airbnb，a company valued at 200bn RMB，provides a platform for those renting property short-term．DogVacay pairs holidaymaking pet owners with pet-friendly hosts，and aims to be profitable by 2017．

    All their business models revolve around one simple word：trust．So，how does Stashbee measure up? BBC journalist Dougal Shaw decided to try it out for himself．He had some odds and ends to store while renovating his house，and met a host through the site who could keep them for 475 RMB for two months．All relatively smooth and painless．

    Heavyweights(行业巨头)in the traditional storage industry，such as Big Yenow and Access，aren't convinced．A representative from Access told Shaw he was skeptical about storing with “amateurs”．He considered 24／7(全天候) access to the items and better security as the main advantages of his service.

    Stashbee agree that dealing with security concerns is important，but say business success depends more on people overcoming a distrust of strangers we've been taught since childhood. They aren't alone．Companies such as Costockage，Roost and Spacer all run similar storage businesses，and are all relying on a shift in consumer attitudes．

    And the concept of social storage doesn't stop there．CityStasher believe there's a gap in the market for those who want to store things for extremely short periods of time．

    Would you try it out? It's a question of trust．

    Not so long ago, most people didn't know who Shelly Ann Francis Pryce was going to become. She was just an average high school athlete. There was every indication that she was just another Jamaican teenager without much of a future. However, one person wants to change this. Stephen Francis observed then eighteen-year-old Shelly Ann as a track meet and was convinced that he had seen the beginning of true greatness. Her time were not exactly impressive, but even so, he seemed there was something trying to get out, something the other coaches had overlooked when they had assessed her and found her lacking. He decided to offer Shelly Ann a place in his very strict training seasons. Their cooperation quickly produced results, and a few year later at Jamaica's Olympic games in early 2008, Shelly Ann, who at that time only ranked number 70 in the world, beat Jamaica's unchallenged queen of the sprint(短跑).

    “Where did she come from?” asked an astonished sprinting world, before concluding that she must be one of those one-hit wonders that spring up from time to time, only to disappear again without signs. But Shelly Ann was to prove that she was anything but a one-hit wonder. At the Beijing Olympic she swept away any doubts about her ability to perform consistently by becoming the first Jamaican woman ever to win the 100 meters Olympic gold. She did it again one year on at the World Championship in Briton, becoming world champion with a time of 10.73—the fourth record ever.

    Shelly-Ann is a little woman with a big smile. She has a mental toughness that did not come about by chance. Her journey to becoming the fastest woman on earth has been anything but smooth and effortless. She grew up in one of Jamaica's toughest inner-city communities known as Waterhouse, where she lived in a one-room apartment, sleeping four in a bed with her mother and two brothers. Waterhouse, one of the poorest communities in Jamaica, is a really violent and overpopulated place. Several of Shelly-Ann's friends and family were caught up in the killings; one of her cousins was shot dead only a few streets away from where she lived. Sometimes her family didn't have enough to eat. She ran at the school championships barefooted because she couldn't afford shoes. Her mother Maxime, one of a family of fourteen, had been an athlete herself as a young girl but, like so many other girls in Waterhouse, had to stop after she had her first baby. Maxime's early entry into the adult world with its responsibilities gave her the determination to ensure that her kids would not end up in Waterhouse's roundabout of poverty. One of the first things Maxime used to do with Shelly-Ann was taking her to the track, and she was ready to sacrifice everything.

    It didn't take long for Shelly-Ann to realize that sports could be her way out of Waterhouse. On a summer evening in Beijing in 2008, all those long, hard hours of work and commitment finally bore fruit. The barefoot kid who just a few years previously had been living in poverty, surrounded by criminals and violence, had written a new chapter in the history of sports.

    But Shelly-Ann's victory was far greater than that. The night she won Olympic gold in Beijing, the routine murders in Waterhouse and the drug wars in the neighboring streets stopped. The dark cloud above one of the world's toughest criminal neighborhoods simply disappeared for a few days. “I have so much fire burning for my country,” Shelly said. She plans to start a foundation for homeless children and wants to build a community centre in Waterhouse. She hopes to inspire the Jamaicans to lay down their weapons. She intends to fight to make it a woman's as well as a man's world.

    As Muhammad Ali puts it, “Champions aren't made in gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them. A desire, a dream, a vision.” One of the things Shelly-Ann can be proud of is her understanding of this truth.

    My son was a second-grader. He went to school by bus every day. He was the first student on in the morning, as we were farthest from school, and the last student off in the evening. I was a teacher myself and it was a comfort to realize the school staff (职员) were all working as hard as I was to provide a safe learning environment.

    One day I came home from work and waited for my son to get home for a long time. Then I called the school. "Perhaps he's just a bit late," said the secretary. "I will call the driver to see if those children are home." A few minutes later, I answered the phone to hear that the other students were home. Then I called his friends' parents, to see if perhaps he had gotten off at their stop to play. The answers were all "No."

    By that time, it was dark and I was scared. My home was in the mountain areas, and it was said that a wolf had come up somewhere. My husband wasn't at home, so I forced myself to calm down and decided to go out to look for him. I was about to go out when the telephone rang; it was from the driver. "He's okay," I heard. "He was asleep on the seats in the back, under a couple of jackets. Since it's dark, can he spend the night with my family?"

    I was relieved and agreed. Since my son had a great adventure, the school started giving a copy of the list to the driver, so he could check off the children's names when they got off the bus. I think highly of the school for taking the cautionary (警戒的) step ahead; it is a sign of their concern for students, parents, and staff.

    Rain beat against the window, matching my mood. I should have known that my new job at the hospital was too good to be true. Throughout the day, rumors (传言) warned that the newest employee from each department would be laid off. I was the newest one in the training department.

    My boss appeared. “You probably know we're cutting back,” he said. “Administration wants us to offer outplacement classes to help those employees find other jobs, showing them how to act in an interview, for example.” “Fine,” I answered unwillingly, not knowing what else to say.

    I decided to go home early that day. In the hall, I met the lady who brought us cookies every Friday. She was a little woman with gray hair. Only her head and the top of her green apron were visible over the cart (小车) loaded with cleaning supplies. At least she had a job!

    At the final meeting, laid-off workers formed a line at the door. A colleague whispered, “I can't believe our Cookie Lady is being laid off. We'll miss her as much as we'll miss her cookies.” When the colleague spoke to her in Spanish, I knew my classes would be useless for her and I realized how much better off was than this poor woman.

    I decided to do something for her. I wrote to a newspaper expressing how I felt about the unselfishness of the Cookie Lady who needed a job. A few days later, my article appeared in the newspaper and the Cookie Lady was allowed to stay in her position. On the same day, I received a letter, which seemed so unlikely that I read it twice. “An editor of a local magazine likes your piece and wants you to call her next time you're looking for work …”