My arms shook. The bow was almost as tall as I was, and it was equipped with an arrow, ready to be shot. Never had a more ill-suited person handled a weapon. But my editor had sent me on a mission: to find my inner Katniss Ever deen at one of Beijing's indoor archery clubs.

    The brilliant archer Everdeen is the lead character in The Hunger Games movies, the final of which was just released in cinemas. Her arrows can hit almost anything: sword-swinging enemies, fierce animals, even aircraft some-how. Me? I can't throw a paper ball into a trashcan with any precision. And I was warned that archery would require a great deal of upper body strength, though I hadn't seen the inside of a gym in years.

    News outlets like the New York Times and NPR have reported an increase of interest in archery, thanks to movies like The Hunger Games, Brave and The Avengers. Archery clubs have showed up in many major cities. In Jian Club, an archery-themed bar, we paid 120 yuan for an hour's worth of target practice and prepared our bows and arrows.

    We were told to stand sideways, with one shoulder facing the bull's eye. Your weaker arm would hold the bow, while the other would pull the bowstring back until the arrow was right next to your face. Then it was meters away.

    Well, sort of. Instead of sending the arrows whistling through the air, my first few simply dropped onto the ground.

    The failure was a good reminder that archery is a demanding, Olympic-level sport. It worked muscles in my back and arms that I just didn't have yet. An hour came and went, and I found myself leaving with a couple pierced (刺穿的)bull's eyes and sore shoulders. Was I ready to shoot down aircraft with a swift arrow? Not quite. But I was definitely ready for a return trip.

    Children moving from primary to secondary school are ill-equipped to deal with the impact of social media, as it is playing an increasingly important role in their lives and exposing them to significant emotional risk, according to a recent report by the Office of the Children's Commissioner for England.

    The report shows that many children in year 7 -- the first year of secondary school, when almost all students will have a phone and be active on social media -- feel under pressure to be constantly connected.

    They worry about their online image, particularly when they start to follow celebrities on Instagram and other platforms. They are also concerned about “sharenting” -- when parents post pictures of them on social media without their permission – and worry that their parents won't listen if they ask them to take pictures down.

    The report, which was created with data from focus group interviews with 8 to 12-year-olds, says that although most social media sites have an official age limit of 13, an estimated 75 percent of 10 to 12-year-olds have a social media account.

    Some children are almost addicted to “likes”, the report says. Aaron, an 11-year-old in year 7, told researchers, “If I got 150 likes, I'd be like, that's pretty cool, it means they like you.” Some children described feeling inferior(差的) to those they follow on social media. Aimee, also 11, said, “You might compare yourself because you're not very pretty compared to them.”

    Children's Commissioner for England Anne Longfield is calling on parents and teachers to do more to prepare children for the emotional impact of social media as they get older. She wants to see the introduction of compulsory digital literacy and online resilience (适应力) lessons for students in year 6 and 7.

    “It is also clear that social media companies are still not doing enough to stop under-13s using their platforms in the first place,” Longfield said.

    “Just because a child has learned the safety messages at primary school does not mean they are prepared for all the challenges that social media will present,” Longfield said.

    “It means a bigger role for schools in making sure children are prepared for the emotional demands of social media. And it means social media companies need to take more responsibility,” Longfield said.

    I was deeply moved by the kindness of an elderly flower seller at Sydney's Central Station one evening.

    I was feeling as cold as the winter winds quickening the steps of the people who buried chins (下巴) in scarves and hands deep into coat pockets. In many ways, 2018 had proven an arduous year. My teenage daughter had left home for university, my job of 23 years was no more, and a creative project I'd given my all to for years had also been suddenly called off. I also found out a person I considered a friend was far from it.

    A year earlier, I'd dreamt about an earthquake. In the dream, a red light flashed inside a building and then the earth began to rock. Walls fell down on me as I ran into the open, feeling sorry for the people I hadn't loved enough. Before I was buried completely by the falling world, I shouted, "Abuelo, ayudame," in my native Spanish. "Grandfather, help me!"

    Now, with the very real aftershocks of a series of unexpected endings, I walked into a little flower shop to buy a gift for a friend. The gentleman at the shop looked at me and turned away for a moment, returning with a fragrant flower. "For you. You need to smile today," he said in a rich and beautiful accent, offering me the flower with eyes full of care. It took all my strength not to cry. Then he gave me a grandfatherly hug that made me want to tell him everything.

    Instead, I thanked him and headed for the train. How did he know? I wondered. For the first time in weeks, I felt hope.

    Like many other people who speak more than one language, I often have the sense that I'm a slightly different person in each of my languages­more confident in English, more relaxed in French, more emotional in Czech. Is it possible that, along with these differences, my moral compass (指南针) also points in somewhat different directions depending on the language I'm using at the time?

    Psychologists who study moral judgments have become very interested in this question. The findings of several recent studies suggest that when people are faced with moral dilemmas (困境), they do indeed respond differently when considering them in a foreign language than when using their native tongue.

    In a 2014 paper led by Albert Costa  volunteers were presented with a moral dilemma known as the "trolley problem": imagine that a runaway trolley is moving quickly toward a group of five people standing on the tracks, unable to move. You are next to a switch that can move the trolley to a different set of tracks, therefore sparing the five people, but resulting in the death of one who is standing on the side tracks. Do you pull the switch?

    Most people agree that they would. But what if the only way to stop the trolley is by pushing a large stranger off a footbridge into its path? People tend to be very hesitant to say they would do this, even though in both situations, one person is sacrificed to save five. But Costa and his colleagues found that presenting the dilemma in a language that volunteers had learned as a foreign tongue dramatically increased their stated willingness to push the sacrificial person off the footbridge, from fewer than 20% of respondents working in their native language to about 50% of those using the foreign one.

    Why does it matter whether we judge morality in our native language or a foreign one? According to one explanation, such judgments involve two separate and competing ways of thinking­one of these, a quick, natural "feeling," and the other, careful deliberation about the greatest good for the greatest number. When we use a foreign language, we unconsciously sink into the more careful way simply because the effort of operating in our non-native language signals our cognitive (认知的) system to prepare for difficult activity.

    An alternative explanation is that differences arise between native and foreign tongues because our childhood languages are filled with greater emotions than are those learned in more academic settings. As a result, moral judgments made in a foreign language are less filled with the emotional reactions that surface when we use a language learned in childhood.

    There's strong evidence that memory connects a language with the experiences and interactions through which that language was learned. For example, people who are bilingual (双语的) are more likely to recall an experience if reminded in the language in which that event occurred. Our childhood languages, learned in the middle of passionate emotion, become filled with deep feeling. By comparison, languages acquired late in life, especially if they are learned through limited interactions in the classroom or dully delivered over computer screens and headphones, enter our minds lacking the emotionality that is present for their native speakers.

    Nasr Majid started hunting this fall at Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge (保护区)on the Eastern Shore of Maryland in USA, He's one of the relatively few new hunters who officials hope will help stop a nearly four-decade decline nationally in what has become a hobby for fewer than 5 percent of Americans.

    Natural resources and wildlife, officials in Maryland are encouraging hunting of deer, turkeys and some other wild animals, which is believed to be good for the environment. Without hunting, they say, sika deer will overpopulate the wildlife refuge and they'll overeat the bushes and other plants that provide important habitat for birds. On the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay, hunting is also important to prevent the spread of diseases such as Lyme.

    In many families, the hunting tradition has been handed down for generations^ But as longtime sportsmen age and children lose interest, the number of hunters in the United States fell by 2 million, from 2011 to 2018, to about 11 million.

    "Everything is changing. Kids are growing up in front of video games and computers instead of going hunting." said Chris Markin, a hunting specialist for the state natural resources department. "Adults usually focus on working and providing for their families. Those pressures are preventing many other potential hunters from going out, and from raising the next generation of hunters."

    To avoid such a decline, a new approach is needed. Government agencies and nonprofit groups are now launching mentoring (指导) programs to train more hunters, which not only helps preserve an industry and a culture but also means more protection for wildlife and their habitats through deer population control and investment.

    Luckily, there are those still eager to learn, like Majid. He was just looking for an outdoor hobby he could share with his children when he came across the mentors-hip program. Now, he feels capable of hunting on his own, but also has someone he can text with questions that pop up. His new pastime has already paid off for him—on his second hunt with his mentor, in the last minutes of daylight, he bagged his first deer.

In a heartwarming tale from Georgia, a 72-year-old senior recently celebrated his college graduation in cinema studies, an achievement made even more special by the presence of his proud 99-year-old mother.

Sam Kaplan of Lawrenceville decided to start on his educational journey at Georgia Gwinnett College in 2019, half a century after he had firstly chosen not to get higher education following his high school graduation in 1969. The catalyst for his return to academia came when he heard a radio announcement about a degree programme in cinema studies.

Recalling that moment, Kaplan said, "I was driving down the highway when I heard about the degree programme. The next exit led to Collinsville, so I immediately exited, and within five minutes, I was enrolling in classes. I've always had a passion for writing and storytelling. I longed to transform my narratives into screenplays, but I realized I needed the basic knowledge to do so,"

Kaplan admitted that the journey was a mix of anxiety and excitement, but it proved to be greatly rewarding. He graduated with a 3.975 grade point average and perfect grade honours, majoring in cinema and media arts, and had desires to continue creating screenplays in the future.

"It was an exciting and nerve-wracking (神经紧张的) challenge. Re-recognizing myself with the art of studying and communicating with fellow students was a lot of fun," he told FOX5 Atlanta.

The most heartwarming thing of Kaplan's graduation day was the presence of his mother, 99-year-old Virginia Kaplan, during the ceremony. Virginia expressed her huge pride, saying, "I am so proud of him. He faced numerous challenges but insisted, and I am delighted, pleased, and extremely proud," the mother also added. "With his new degree, he's going to stand out in whatever he does. Who knows, I might even make an appearance in the movies."