Five years ago, when I taught art at a school in Seattle, I used Tinkertoys as a test at the beginning of a term to find out something about my students. I put a small set of Tinkertoys in front of each student, and said: "Make something out of the Tinkertoys. You have 45 minutes today-and 45 minutes each day for the rest of the week."

    A few students hesitated to start. They waited to see what the rest of the class would do. Several others checked the instructions and made something according to one of the model plans provided. Another group built something out of their own imaginations.

    Once I had a boy who worked experimentally with Tinkertoys in his free time. His constructions filled a shelf in the art classroom and a good part of his bedroom at home. I was delighted at the presence of such a student. Here was an exceptionally creative mind at work. His presence meant that I had an unexpected teaching assistant in class whose creativity would infect other students.

Encouraging this kind of thinking has a downside. I ran the risk of losing those students who had a different style of thinking. Without fail one would declare, "But I'm just not creative."

"Do you dream at night when you're asleep?"

"Oh, sure."

"So tell me one of your most interesting dreams." The student would tell something wildly imaginative. Flying in the sky or in a time machine or growing three heads. "That's pretty creative. Who does that for you?"

"Nobody. I do it."

"Really — at night, when you're asleep?"

"Sure."

"Try doing it in the daytime, in class, okay?"

    Watching some children trying to catch butterflies one hot August afternoon, I was reminded of an incident in my own childhood．When I was a boy of 12 in South Carolina, something happened to me that cured me forever of wanting to put any wild creature in a cage.

    We lived on the edge of a wood, and every evening at dusk the mockingbirds would come and rest in the trees and sing. There isn't a musical instrument made by man that can produce a more beautiful sound than the song of the mockingbird.

    I decided that I would catch a young bird and keep it in a cage and in that way would have my own private musician.

    I finally succeeded in catching one and put it in a cage. At first, in its fright at being captured, the bird fluttered about the cage, but eventually it settled down in its new home. I felt very pleased with myself and looked forward to some beautiful singing from my tiny musician.

    I had left the cage out on our back porch, and on the second day of the bird's captivity(囚禁) my new pet's mother flew to the cage with food in her mouth. The baby bird ate everything she brought to it. I was pleased to see this. Certainly the mother knew better than I how to feed her baby.

    The following morning when I went to see how my captive was doing, I discovered it on the floor of the cage, dead. I was shocked! What had happened! I had taken excellent care of my little bird, or so I thought.

    Arthur Wayne, the famous ornithologist, happened to be visiting my father at the time, hearing me crying over the death of my bird, explained what had occurred. “A mother mockingbird, finding her young in a cage, will sometimes bring it poison berries. She thinks it better for her young to die than to live in captivity.”

    Never since then have I caught any living creature and put it in a cage. All living creatures have a right to live free.

    I began writing poems fifteen years ago while I was in college. One day I was in the library, working on a term paper, when I came across a book of contemporary poetry. I don't remember the title of the book or any of the titles of the poems except one: “Frankenstein's Daughter.” The poem was wild, almost rude, and nothing like the rhyme-and-meter poetry I had read in high school. I had always thought that poetry was flowery writing about sunsets and walks on the beach, but that library book contained direct and sometimes shocking poetry about dogs, junked cars, rundown houses, and TVs. I checked the book out, curious to read more.

    Soon afterward, I started filling a notebook with my own poems. At first I was scared, partly because my poetry teacher, to whom this book is written for, was a serious and strict man who could see the errors in my poems. Also, I realized the seriousness of my devotion. I gave up geography to study poetry, which a good many friends said offered no future. I ignored them because I liked working with words, using them to reconstruct the past, which has always been a source of poetry for me.

    When I first studied poetry, I was single-minded. I woke to poetry and went to bed with poetry. I memorized poems, read English poets because I was told they would help shape my poems, and read classical Chinese poetry because I was told that it would add clarity to my work. But I was most taken by the Spanish and Latin American poets, particularly Pablo Neruda. My favorites of his were the odes ― long, short-lined poems celebrating common things like tomatoes, socks and scissors. I felt joyful when I read these odes, and when I began to write my own poems, I tried to remain faithful to the common things of my childhood — dogs, alleys (小巷), my baseball mitt (手套) and the fruit of the valley, especially the orange. I wanted to give these things life, to write so well that my poems would express their beauty.

    I also admired our own country's poetry. I saw that our poets often wrote about places where they grew up or places that impressed them deeply. James Wright wrote about Ohio and West Virginia, Philip Levine about Detroit, Gary Snyder about the Sierra Nevadas and about Japan, where for years he studied Zen Buddhism (禅宗佛教). I decided to write about the San Joaquin Valley, where my hometown, Fresno, is located. Some of my poems are absolute observations and images of nature — the orange yards, the Kings River, the Sequoias (红杉). I fell in love with the valley, both its ugliness and its beauty, and quietly wrote poems about it to share with others.

    Last year I ruined my summer vacation by bringing along a modern convenience that was too convenient for my own good: the iPad. Instead of looking at nature, I checked my email. Instead of paddling a small boat, I followed my Twitter feed (推特简讯). Instead of reading great novels, I stuck to reading four newspapers each morning. I was behaving as if I were still in the office. My body was on vacation but my head wasn't.

    So this year I made up my mind to try something different: withdrawal (退出) from the Internet. I knew it wouldn't be easy, since I'm bad at self-control. But I was determined. I started by giving the iPad to my wife.

    The cellphone signal at our house was worse than in the past, making my attempts at cheating a frustrating experience. I was trapped, forced to go through with my plan. Largely cut off from e-mail, Twitter and my favorite newspaper websites, I had few ways to connect to the world except for radio and how much radio can one listen to, really? I had to do what I had planned to all along: read books.

    This experience has had a happy ending. With determination and the strong support of my wife, I won in my vacation struggle against the Internet, realizing finally that it was I, not the iPad, that was the problem. I knew I had won when we passed a Starbucks and my wife asked if I wanted to stop to use the Wi-Fi. “I don't need it,” I said.

    However, as we return to post -vacation life, a harder test begins: Can I continue when I'm back at work? There are times when the need to know what's being said right now is great. And I have no intention of giving up my convenience completely. But I hope to resist the temptation (诱惑) to check my e-mail every five minutes, which leads to checking my Twitter feed and a website or two.

    I think a vacation is supposed to help you reset your brain to become more productive. Here I hope this one worked.

    Nowadays, top performing sportsmen earn huge amount of money as compared to people in other professions. Some people consider it a rational approach. However, there are a few who think it is unjustifiable.

    Some people think sports professionals with outstanding performance should be overpaid as it is a short-lived career which requires rigorous hard work as compared to other professions. This field demands a strict, disciplined life with extensive physical efforts, consistent practice, a fixed diet schedule to bring pride and glory to the country. Due to such tough requirements, people in this field have an average career span of 10-15 years. As sports professionals have limited tenure, they should be rewarded with high monetary gains to acknowledge their excellent performance.

    However, there are a few who think that top performing sportsmen and women should not have high salaries as it is a biased approach. They feel that there are other critical professions which are more valuable to the country as compared to the sports field. For example, the professions, like doctors, social worker, works for the betterment of the society. Their efforts not only help to reduce the social issues prevailing in the community, but they also contribute in providing a healthy environment. As a result, they significantly contribute to the growth of the country. Henceforth, their efforts should be equally recognized along with the sports professionals.

    In my opinion, although there are some logical reasons for huge earnings of the top performing players, people from other professions should also be equally appreciated in terms of lucrative monetary benefits for their outstanding contribution. As all the professions are critical in their own field and contributes to the overall development of the country.

    To conclude, sports people delivering excellent performance should not be overpaid in comparison to other professionals who make a significant contribution to the society.

    Britain and France are two important countries in Europe. They are neighbors, separated only by the 20-mile seaway of the English Channel. And for most of the time that the two countries have existed, the French and the British have been rivals or even enemies. One conflict between the two countries lasted over 100 years, and the British and French were at war through the 18th century.

    There is no fighting now, of course. But there is still a strong sense of rivalry (敌对) between the two nations. That's why a recent survey in the UK caused a major shock.

It revealed (揭露) that one third of the British people would like to live in France. It also showed that twenty-one percent of British people would actually prefer to have been born in France.

    Many reasons were given. France has a better climate and a more relaxed lifestyle, with some of the longest holidays in Europe. It is thought to have better public services in every area from health to transport. People in France work shorter hours and enjoy longer vacations. And think of the food and wine!

    Estimates (估计) of the numbers of Britons living in France range from 100,000 to half a million. But it is not one-way traffic. Around 15,000 French people per year come to live in Britain, mainly settling in London. They are attracted by higher pay in Britain, lower taxes, a more dynamic lifestyle. Now it seems that people can go to the place that suits them best.