My school stood in a big square playground in southeastern South Dakota. One teacher taught all grades, first through eighth. Most grades had only two or three students.

    Our school day started with the flag pledge(宣誓). Then the teacher called one grade at a time to the recitation bench beside her desk. She'd check our work, explain the new lesson, and dismiss us to go back to our own desks and do our new work, all in less than ten minutes per grade.

    At noon we ate lunches we had brought. Our lunches consisted of homemade sandwiches and if we were lucky, dessert. My favorite dessert was a fresh pear, and a piece of Mom's delicious sour cream chocolate cake.

    The annual Christmas program was the most exciting part of the year. We hurried through our lessons during December to allow time to practise poems, songs, and plays.

    A few days before the performance, the school board members borrowed equipment from the town and set up a stage across one side of the classroom. We hung bed sheets for curtains.

    On the evening of the performance, petrol lanterns hanging along the walls cast a warm, though not very bright, light over the gathering crowd. We could hardly contain our excitement as we looked from behind the curtains to wave at our parents.

    On a spring Sunday in a new term, just before the last day of the school term, everyone in the neighborhood gathered for a picnic. Our moms set fried chicken, bowls of salads, and desserts on the teacher's desk and the library table. After the dinner, we played games. One of the school board members brought big buckets of ice cream in the afternoon to top off the picnic. How we looked forward to that treat!

    I was just nineteen years old when I started my first teaching position in a country school with thirteen students. I felt excited, nervous and happy as I prepared my lunch bucket the first morning of the term. I can't remember what kind of sandwiches I packed, but I do remember I put in a fresh pear and a piece of chocolate cake for dessert!

How can we reduce the risk?

    There are four general approaches to dealing with volcanic dangers. We can try to keep the danger from occurring - often an impossible task. We can try to change its path or reduce its impact on existing development. We can take steps to protect future development. We can also do our best to have disaster response plans in place before they are needed.

Removing the Threat

    Clearly, there is no way to stop an eruption. We can, however, attempt to reduce the eruption's effects by strengthening structures, for example, building protective works such as walls to make lava(熔岩) flow away from developed areas. Such efforts can be and have been successful, but are of limited use in a large-scale eruption.

Planning for the Future

    Protecting future development from volcanic dangers is a simple task. Before building houses, we should judge the risk. If the risk seems too great, a safer location should be found. This type of planning is very effective, but all too often, people are drawn to the lush(葱郁的)，rolling land of a quiet volcano.

Disaster Preparedness

    When a volcano comes to life, a few weeks may not be enough time to avoid a tragedy. Planning is the key to saving lives. Well before the warning signs occur, people must be educated about volcanic dangers. Escape plans must be in place. Communication between scientists, officials, the media, and the general public should be practiced. Emergency measures must be thought out and agreed upon.

    If you doubt the importance of these efforts, take another look at past volcanic tragedies, such as the eruption of Nevado del Ruiz. Communication failures left the town of Armero unprepared for escape. When a deadly mudflow came down the slope(斜坡), 21,000 people— 90 percent of the town's people--died.

    Are you interested in students in other countries? Do they also have so much homework like you? What do they do in their spare time?

    On April 8, a report came out on the lives of high school students in China, Japan, South Korea and the US. It surveyed around 6200 students from the four countries last year. You will find the answers to many of your questions in this report.

    Who study hardest?

Chinese students spend the most time studying. Nearly half of Chinese students (48.65%) spend more than two hours on their homework every day. That's much more than students of the US (26.4%), Japan (8.2%) and South Korea (5.2%).

    Who sleep most often in class?

Japanese students fall asleep in class most often. About 45% of them said they sometimes sleep in class. In South Korea, it's 32%; in the US,21%; and 5% in China.

    Who are the most distracted?

    American students are the most active in class, but also the most distracted. 64.2% said they chat with friends in class; 46.9% said they eat snacks in class; and 38.9% said they send emails or read storybooks in class.

    What do they do after school?

    In their spare time, most Chinese students study or surf the Internet. Most American students go out to play with their friends. Most Japanese students do physical exercise. Most Korean students watch TV.

    Turning on the TV, a wonderful scene comes to your eyes — a group of men, tall, strong and handsome, and women, young, beautiful and attractive, too. Together they eat in the finest restaurants, traveling everywhere around the world by luxurious planes and pleasure ships. They are models.

    Do you envy them？What sort of life are models leading？Is it a wonderful life for a young lady or a young man?

    A few models are well-known actors or actresses who can make a lot of money only by showing themselves off in commercials. But the majority of them are just curious to see what it is like. They^'d like to be models just because they are attracted by what they imagine — models earn a lot of money and lead a glorious life. This is true for those who are very successful. However, most models find it difficult to get work. Very few can earn enough to live on, and for all models their expenses are high. Their agents claim about 20% of the earnings, and no model will get very far without a clever agent. Besides, they have to buy good clothing. They also have to pay to travel to interviews and reach the places where the work is to be done.

    Interviews for a model job are known as cattle markets in the modeling world, and not without a good reason. A top model can choose his or her work, demand and receive high fees and has his or her expenses paid. But for most models, the situation is quite different. An agent or employer inspects each model much as a farmer inspects cattle at a market. Intelligence, qualifications and personal characteristics count for little against good looks and tight figures. For all except the very few lucky ones, the life of a model is a continual search for work, trying to sell him or her in the face of fierce competition and, sometimes, not particularly moral standards on the part of some employers.

    Immigration officials at the airport look suspiciously at a girl whose passport shows her occupation as “Model”, and these are men and women of considerable experience of the world. It comes no surprise to find that some models prefer to put “Secretary” or “Businessman” as their jobs in their passports.

    It's not unusual to see an unreasonable child lying on the ground drumming his heels. Beside him is a desperate mother yelling at the top of her lungs. Raising a well-behaved kid is really a head-scratching thing.

    If you took all the parenting styles around the world and ranked them by their gentleness, the Inuit (因纽特人) approach would certainly rank near the top. All the moms mention one golden role: Don't shout or yell at small children. Inuit's no-yelling policy is their central component to raising cool-headed kids. The culture views scolding, or even speaking to children in all angry voice, as inappropriate, although little kids are pushing parents' buttons.

    Playful "storytelling" is another trick to sculpting kids' behavior. But this storytelling differs hugely from those fairy tales full of moral lessons. Parents "retell" what happened when a boy threw a tantrum(发脾气)by way of what Shakespeare would understand all too well: putting on a "drama". After the child has calmed down, the parents will review what happened when the child misbehaved, usually starting with a question: "Can you show us how to throw a tantrum?" Then the child has to think what he should do. If he takes the bait and performs the action, the mom will ask a follow-up question with a playful tone. For example: "Does that seem right?" or "Are you a baby?" She is getting across the idea that "big boys" won't throw a tantrum.

    Kids' brains are still developing the circuitry needed for self-control. What you do in response to your children's emotions shapes their brains. So next time, seeing your boy misbehave, try using the Inuit's storytelling approach. And don't forget to keep cool. After all, boys will be boys.

    Until the 1990s coffee was rarely served in China except at luxury hotels aimed at foreigners. When Starbucks opened its first outlet there in 1999, it was far from clear that the country's avid tea-drinkers would take to such a different-and usually more costly- source of caffeine. Starbucks tried to attract customers unused to coffee's bitter taste by promoting milk and sugar-heavy concoctions(调和) such as Frappuccinos.

    But coffee has become fashionable among the middle class in China. Starbucks now has about 3, 800 outlets in China- more than in any other country outside America. Statista, a business-intelligence portal(门户网站), says the roast coffee market in China is growing by more than 10 % a year. Starbucks and its rivals see big opportunities for expanding there.

    So too, however, do home-grown competitors. A major new presence is Luckin Coffee, Beijing- based chain. Since its founding less than two years ago, it has opened more than 2,300 outlets. On May 17th Luckin's initial public offering on the Nasdaq stockmarket raised more than $570m, giving it a value of about $4bn.

    Luckin's remarkable growth is sign of change. No longer do Chinese consumers see coffee as such a luxury. Most of Luckin's outlets are merely kiosks where busy white-collar workers pick up their drinks, having ordered them online. Super-fast delivery can also be arranged through the company's app. Independent coffee shops are springing up. The growth is striking given the country's reputation for its tea-drinking culture where many residents like to relax in teahouses sipping tea served gracefully.

    But the two markets are different. The teahouses tend to cater to older people who like to spend long hours playing mahjong and gossiping. At the coffee shops it is rare to see anyone over 40. Young people use them for socialising, but much of their interaction is online -sharing photos of their drinks and of the coffee-making equipment. An option on the Chinese rating app Dianping allows users to search for wanghong ("internet viral") coffee houses: ones with particularly photogenic decor(照片装饰) where better to sip and We Chat?