When I was about 12, I had an enemy, a girl who liked to point out my shortcomings(缺点). Week by week her list grew: I was very thin, I wasn't a good student,I talked too much, I was too proud, and so on. I tried to hear all this as long as  could. At last, I became very angry. I ran to my father with tears in my eyes.

    He listened to me quietly, then he asked. “Are the things she says true or not? Janet, didn't you ever wonder what you're really like? Well, you now have that girl's opinion. Go and make a list of everything she said and mark the points that are true. Pay no attention to the other things she said.”I did as he told me. To my great surprise, I discovered that about half the things were true. Some of them I couldn't change (like being very thin), but a good number I could—and suddenly I wanted to change. For the first time I go to fairly clear picture of myself.

    I brought the list back to Daddy. He refused to take it. “That's just for you,” he said. “You know better than anyone else the truth about yourself. But you have to learn to listen, not just close your ears in anger and feeling hurt. When some thing said about you is true, you'll find it will be of help to you. Our world is full of people who think they know your duty. Don't shut your ears. Listen to them all, but hear the truth and do what you know is the right thing to do.” Daddy's advice has returned to me at many important moments. In my life, I've never had a better piece of advice.

Disney has picked Chinese actor Liu Yifei to play Mulan in an upcoming film, following accusations against Hollywood of ‘whitewashing'.

    Several Hollywood films have faced criticism in recent months for featuring white actors in Asian roles. Recent films accused of whitewashing include the Hollywood remake of Japanese anime Ghost in the Shell, which had Scarlett Johansson in the main role which was originally Japanese, and Chinese epic The Great Wall which starred Matt Damon as its lead character. Earlier this year, British actor Ed Skrein who was cast as an Asian character in the upcoming Hellboy remake pulled out of the film so that the role could be “cast appropriately”. It then went to Korean-American actor Daniel Dae Kim.

    The live-action adaptation of the 1998 cartoon movie will tell the tale of the well-known Chinese heroine Hua Mulan. Mulan pretended to be a man to fight in the army to spare her weak father from being forced into the army.

    The film has been under careful examination since it was announced that Disney intended to remake Mulan. An online campaign calling for an Asian actress in the role attracted more than 100,000 signatures before it was shut on Thursday.

    Liu, nicknamed “Fairy Sister” for her delicate looks and previous roles in fantasy dramas, is well-known as an actress, model and singer in China. The 30-year-old is said to be fluent in English, having grown up partly in New York. The Hollywood Reporter said she was picked out of nearly 1,000 candidates for the film.

Disney's announcement on its blog about Liu's casting was met with delight on Twitter as well as on Sina Weibo, China's microblogging network. Many online celebrated it as a win for diversity in Disney films. Chinese-American actress Ming-Na Wen, who voiced Mulan in the original animated movie, also gave her stamp of approval. Chinese netizens congratulated Liu, with many praising Disney's choice. One commenter said, “Needs to know martial arts, can also speak English, has star quality - it definitely should be Liu Yifei.”

    Years ago, students applying to colleges and universities had to have their applications and personal essays printed out and then “snail-mailed”. Flash forward to today's world of Facebook, Instagram and WeChat, where photos, videos and mobile phones rule. Fortunately, several new tools are making it easier for college applicants to use technology to show off their personalities, skills and creativity.

    ZEEMEE

    One of the more popular innovations in college applications is ZeeMee, a free mobile app that allows students to upload personal profiles and videos to create visual resumes. More than 220 colleges and universities offer a ZeeMee option as part of the application process. The video can show the unique creative aspects of the applicants.

THE COALITION LOCKER

    Another relatively new tool comes from the Coalition for Access, Affordability and Success, now used by more than 110 member colleges and universities. Among the group's stated goals are getting students engaged in college prep early and using technology to create a supportive application process that encourages reflection and self-discovery.

    Students who sign up for the free platform get access to a digital “locker”, which they can use all through high school to save class papers, artwork, newspaper stories, videos and photos to share with colleges when they eventually apply.

    VIDEO — CHAT INTERVIEWS

    At some schools, an interview with an admission officer is an important part of the application process. To make it easier, several virtual interviewing tools have popped up, such as a video-based platform from Kira. More than 140 universities worldwide use Kira's video assessment tool to conduct real-time interviews with prospective students. During the interview, candidates are shown the questions prerecorded by the particular school and must respond in real time by talking into the camera on their laptop or phone. In addition to showing their ability, to speak fluently in English and think on their feet, it helps admission officers determine the “motivation, commitment and drive” of applicants.

    UNIQUE SCHOOL TOOLS

    Some universities have come up with their own ways to allow students to show their skills and personalities. For example, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, encourages applicants to display their technical abilities and creativity by submitting a “Maker Portfolio” —a written or videotaped description of a project that shows creative and problem-solving skills. While a new app would fit the bill, the project could be anything from an origami design to a potato cannon.

    Even before my father left us, my mother had to go back to work to support our family. Once I came out of the kitchen, complaining, “Mom, I can't peel potatoes. I have only one hand.”

    Mom never looked up from sewing. “You get yourself into that kitchen and peel those potatoes,” she told me. “And don't ever use that as an excuse for anything again!”

    In the second grade, our teacher lined up my class on the playground and had each of us race across the monkey bars, swinging from one high steel rod to the next. When it was my turn, I shook my head. Some kids behind me laughed, and I went home crying.

    That night I told Mom about it. She hugged me, and I saw her “we'll see about that” look. The next afternoon, she took me back to school. At the deserted playground, Mom looked carefully at the bars.

    “Now, pull up with your right arm,” she advised. She stood by as I struggled to lift myself with my right hand until I could hook the bar with my other elbow. Day after day we practiced, and she praised me for every rung I reached.

     I'll never forget the next time, crossing the rungs; I looked down at the kids who were standing with their mouths open.

    One night, after a dance at my new junior high, I lay in bed sobbing. I could hear Mom come into my room. “Mom,” I said, weeping, “none of the boys would dance with me.”

    For a long time, I didn't hear anything. Then she said, “Oh, honey, someday you'll be beating those boys off with a bat.” Her voice was faint and cracking. I peeked out from my covers to see tears running down her cheeks. Then I knew how much she suffered on my behalf. She had never let me see her tears.

    I had reached the age of twenty-eight. Still, I doubted the letter from my past would make it to me, all these years later. It was a simple creative writing assignment from when I was eighteen. The teacher collected our letters to our future selves in self-addressed envelopes with stamps and promised to mail them ten years later. Yet so much time had passed. Would he even remember?

    Thinking back on the letter, I vaguely recalled giving my future self some advice. When you're eighteen years old, twenty-eight seems like a grown-up age but I wasn't feeling as grown up as I believed my younger self had expected me to be.

    When the letter finally reached me, I opened it eagerly. It began," How much do you bet this letter will never get to you "It continued to greet me casually as if we were having an IM (instant messaging) chat. My eighteen-year-old self was so stressed! As a senior in high school, facing the SATS and college applications, I was apparently not quite happy and hoped I wouldn't worry so much in the future, and that I wouldn't forget to be present and enjoy my life!

    Contrary to my belief, my eighteen-year-old self did not have any demands of me, or expectations I might have failed to meet. Instead, she wrote," I'll stand by whatever you do. Even if you are not who I'm imagining now, I'll support you, because maybe who I' m imagining is someone else, and you are-well you're not someone else, you're me."

    I was blown away, and tears welled up in my eyes at this self-acceptance through time. I had put a lot of pressure on myself to be the best version of myself that I could be. However, I came to realize what I would have accomplished in ten years' time would pale in comparison to how I'd feel and who I'd be.

    We discuss the issue of when to help a patient die, which was not talked about openly and little was written about it.

    The best way to bring the problem into focus is to describe two patients whom I cared for. The first, formerly a nurse, had an automobile accident. And there she was: in coma, on a breathing machine. One day, her husband and son came to see me. They told me their wife and mother was obviously going to die; she was a nurse and had told her family that she never wanted this kind of terrible death, being maintained by machines. I told them that while I respected their view, there was nothing deadly about her situation. The kidney(肾) failure she had was just the kind for which the artificial (人造的) kidney was most effective. While possibly a bit reassured, they were disappointed. Here was the head surgeon seemingly determined to keep everybody alive, no matter what.

    Within a few days the patient awoke from her coma. About six months later, the door of my office opened and in walked a gloriously fit woman. After some cheery words of appreciation, the father and son asked to speak to me alone. As soon as the door closed, both men became quite tearful. All that came out was, "We want you to know how wrong we were."

    The second patient was an 85-year-old lady whose hair caught fire while she was smoking. She arrived with a deep burn; I knew it would surely be deadly. At the time, there was a class discussing medical ethics(道德). The instructor asked me if I had any sort of ethical problem I could bring up for discussion. I described the case and asked the students their opinion. After the discussion, I made a remark that was, when looking back, a serious mistake. I said, "I'll talk with the nurses before we decide." The instructor and the students were shocked: "You mean this is a real patient?" The teacher of ethics was not accustomed to being challenged by actuality.

    A day or two later, when the lady was making no progress and was suffering terribly, we began to back off in treatment. Soon she died quietly and not in pain. As a reasonable physician, you had better move ahead and do what you would want done for you. And don't discuss it with the world first. There is a lesson here for everybody. Assisting people to leave this life requires strong judgment and long experience to avoid its misuse.