{#blank#}1{#/blank#}We achieve it actively by direct experience, by testing and proving an idea, or by reasoning. We achieve knowledge passively by being told by someone else. Most of the learning that takes place in the classroom and the kind that happens when we watch TV or read newspapers or magazines is passive. Conditioned as we are to passive learning, it's not surprising that we depend on it in our everyday communication with friends and co-workers.{#blank#}2{#/blank#} It makes us tend to accept what we are told even when it is little more than hearsay and rumor.

    Did you ever play the game Rumor? It begins when one person writes down a message but doesn't show it to anyone. Then the person whispers it, word for word, to another person. That person, in turn, whispers it to still another, and so on, through all the people playing the game. The last person writes down the message word for word as he or she hears it. Then the two written statements are compared.{#blank#}3{#/blank#}．

    {#blank#}4{#/blank#} The simple fact that people repeat a story in their own words changes the story. Then, too, most people listen imperfectly. And many enjoy adding their own creative touch to a story, trying to improve on it, stamping it with their own personal style. Yet those who hear it think they know.

    {#blank#}5{#/blank#} A statement of opinion by one writer may be restated as a fact by another, who may in turn be quoted by yet another; and this process may continue, unless it occurs to someone to question the facts on which the original writer based his opinion or to challenge the interpretation he placed upon those facts.

A. Typically, the original message has changed.

B. Finally everybody gets the meaning.

C. Unfortunately, passive learning has a serious problem.

D. Knowledge is passed down from generation to generation.

E. That's what happens in daily life.

F. This process is also found among scholars and authors.

G. We can achieve knowledge either actively or passively.

    It puzzled Emily when she was aware of something wrong. She tripped upon men's clothing "hidden" around her house.

    The 38-year-old woman says, at the beginning, she was confused to see quite a few photographs in her phone that she did not remember taking. She was the subject but something was different. Her friends started falling away and she did not know why. Her long-term relationship with her boyfriend also ended suddenly.

    Now she knows those men's clothing belonged to one of her "alternatives" and the same person was responsible for her closest friends' leaving her.

    In an interview, Emily said she was not allowed to name "the man" who takes over her body. She was not allowed to name any of her six alternative persons. She said, "I am aware that they are not real people, not physical people. They exist in an imaginative world. However, all those alternatives should be treated with dignity and respect."

    Emily has what's called Dissociative Identity Disorder（DID分离性身份识别障碍）, a condition characterized by the presence of two or more split personalities that have power over a person's behaviour.

    Her condition resulted from a car accident five years ago. It was August, 2012, when her vehicle broke down on the side of the road. A speeding driver crashed into her car. She wasn't physically injured but she suffered a mental condition caused by severe brain injury. Shortly after that, she discovered she wasn't alone inside her head. Switching between personalities happens frequently but there is no real pattern. It can be weeks between incidents then, for whatever reason, it happens more regularly.

    One of her alternatives is a smoker, even though she is not. Upon waking, she says there are messages in her head that she is a smoker. She describes her lifestyle as "isolated".

    "People consider DID as tragedy" she says, "I just want to make an effort to tell others that we deserve respect, that we are legally accepted members of society, and we hope to live a normal life. I'm not stupid, I'm not spiting or running around people with knives. I have a mental problem but try to live a normal life. I completed a course at Harvard, I wrote a book, I'm able to communicate well. I mother my two kids well. I'm not on welfare."

    Actually, she volunteers for an organization helping children. She also spends time speaking out about her condition and has written a book on the subject, hoping to help others who are experiencing the same trouble.

    I recently had dinner with someone who told me that one of his best friends had been killed in a private plane crash, and something happened at the memorial service that he'll never forget. He shared the story with me.

    At the memorial service, his friend's wife walked to the platform to speak to the gathering. She said a friend had asked her the best memory she had of their life together. At the moment, she had been too sad to answer, but she had thought about it since and wanted to answer the question.

    They were in their late forties when he died, and she began talking about a time in their life almost twenty years earlier. She had quit her job to obtain her master's degree, and her husband never hesitated in his support.

    He held down his own job and also did the cooking, cleaning, and other housework while she studied for her degree.

    One time they both stayed up all night. She was finishing her paper, and he was preparing for an important business meeting. That morning, she walked out of her study, leaned against the door by the stairs, looked at her husband downstairs and just thought about how much she loved him. She knew how important this meeting was to his future, and she was feeling guilty that she didn't even have time to make his breakfast. He took his briefcase and hurried out. She heard the garage door open and close, but much to her surprise, she heard it open again about thirty seconds later. From above, she watched her husband dash into the house and walk over to the forgotten coffee table. Marking the surface of it with his finger through the dust with the words "I love you", then he raced back to his car.

    The new widow then looked out at her audience and said, "John and I had a wonderful life together. We have been around the world several times. We've had everything money can buy but nothing comes close to that moment."

    Hearing this, I was deeply moved. "Love makes life worthwhile."

    Four years ago your friends congratulated you and your father talked big continuously. Four years ago you walked among the gothic towers and weathered traditions that sew our community together. But what's next, will I make friends, or I will measure up? And maybe you quietly wondered why a place like Yale, a place that sparked the drive of presidents, a place that raised the world-famous scholars, a place that trained Pulitzer Prize winners, would ever want you? I hope you had these questions because otherwise I might have embarrassed myself. I admit I asked all of these and more.

    I took an unconventional path to Yale. Five years ago I was working the evening shift at a clothing store in the suburbs of Virginia. My family had moved every year for the past five years and our finances were so consumed that retirement was not a possibility. Worse yet, my son was a junior at an Ivy League college in New Jersey and hearing about his privileged friends often reminded me of all the things I wanted to give him but couldn't.

    When I told him this he relied, “If you really want to spoil me, spoil yourself. ”Then he took my hands and told me I had a brilliant mind and deserved better than everything I had ever known.

    That summer I started community college while working full-time. Education was my second chance. I awoke my curiosity, vitality( 活力) and dignity that I never knew I could feel. When I read Eliot, Miller and Morrison, it was as if I were the first person to have ever read them, as if they were secret insights into the human soul and situations and I knew I couldn't stop.

    Walking among these gothic towers, among these traditions, and among this brilliant, vibrant and unapologetically eclectic Class of 2014 has been inspiring. Whether debating issues in class, or chatting over coffee, I have enjoyed, learned and loved every moment I have shared with you. You have made me a better person and I only hoped I have helped in some way to do the same for you.

    And yet even now this is dreamlike. Four years ago I was convinced no one would want me, I wouldn't measure up and as far as knowing what was next, I supposed I had resigned myself to more of the same. But I've come to learn that nothing great can really be accomplished without a healthy dose of terror. No one ever wrote epic(史诗般的) poems, built monuments or told bedtime stories about people who played it safe.

    I was terrified when I came to Yale. A big part of me thought I wasn't good enough. But a big part of life is ignoring the naysayers(反对者) especially the one inside you. Most people are stopped from doing great things by no one but themselves. I learned to tell myself to shut up. Sometimes in the mirror in the morning and others times in the dark before I went to bed. I came to realize once I could overcome my own fear I could overcome just about anything. If you haven't felt this yet I recommended it: it's the greatest joy you'll ever know.

    You've likely all met your own fear and misgivings(担忧、害怕). I charge you to tell that voice to shut up when necessary because in the end your greatness will not be about IQ but about the sincerity of your ambitions, the toughness of your character and your unwillingness to compromise in the face of difficulty, fear and uncertainty.

    And should someone tell you that it can't be done, or you're not good enough or it's not worth the trouble? Should others ask you to take the safe route, or stick to the path of least resistance? Should people say it's too late or your dreams are impractical? Look them in the eye, laugh a little and let them know “Nothing is impossible”.

    Welcome to Hawks Cay Resort

    Centrally lying between Miami and key west, Hawks Cay Resort offers the perfect union of solitude and convenience. Here you can enjoy the best qualities of the Caribbean-clear green waters, endless sunshine, excellent fishing and diving chances, and fresh seafood.

    THE MIDDLE OF EVERYTHING

    Hanks Cay lies in the middle of the Florida Keys on the quiet island of Duck Key. The resort is just over an hour's drive from Key West attractions, and only minutes from the village of Marathon where you'll find the Seven-Mile Bridge, the Marathon Turtle Hospital, shopping changes and more.

    GETTING TO HAWKS CAY RESORT

    By Land

    Drive the Overseas Highway, awarded one of America's most scenic roads, as you travel across historic fishing bridges, and admire the blue and green water of the Atlantic Ocean and Florida Bay. Hawks Cay centrally lies only 90 miles by car from Miami and 130 miles from Fort Lauderdale. Cars can be rented from Marathon Airport, lying just a few miles from the resort.

    By Air

    Daily flights are offered into nearby Miami, Fort Lauderdale/Hollywood and Key West International airports. Hawks Cay is proud to partner with the Marathon Jet Center, lying just 9 miles from the resort, offering lights and private jet service.

    Fly direct to Marathon International Airport from Fort Lauderdle, Miami, Marco Island and Naples for as low as $222 per person one way. Flight time is approximately 38 minutes.

    By Sea

    Hawks Cay can easily be reached via the Atlantic Ocean or Gulf of Mexico. Hawks Cay's full-service marina features fees for ships up to 110 feet, and all the boating and fishing supplies you'll need during your stay in the beautiful Florida Keys.

    I never planned to be a teacher. I was headed for a law school, for a real career. Teaching was something to "get out of my system". I would teach a couple of years and then go to get a real job. After the first couple of years, I promised myself I would leave if I didn't love my job any more. Twenty-nine years later, that day still has not come.

    So, why do I stay? I stay because I laugh and learn every day. The children are funny, insightful, and honest. If my shoes don't match my outfit, they tell me. If my argument that Invisible Man is an important twentieth century classics doesn't convince them, they tell me.

    I stay because every single day is different. Some days, my lessons are great, and I have classes of students who are engaged in reading, writing and thinking. Some days, my lessons fall flat, and I realize that I need to start from scratch — even after 29 years.

    I stay because I love to see the children realize that they have learned something — whether it's how to craft an argumentative thesis sentence or how to understand the effect of repetition in The Declaration of Independence. I love to see the children write well; I love the feeling of reading a well-argued essay, and I love smiling as I write a final "Awesome job!" on a paper on which a student has worked hard.

    I stay because what I've learned in 29 years is that I do have a "real" job — the most real job there is. It's the one that leads to other jobs, that helps to create good thinkers who go on to be productive in our society, and that supports our community as it grows and times change. My job is among the ones that matter most.