LOS ANGELES - The Los Angeles Police and University of Southern California (USC) announced a $125,000 reward on Friday for information leading to the arrest and conviction of whoever gunned down two Chinese students Wednesday.

Chief Patrick Gannon, who oversees Los Angeles Police Department South Bureau made the announcement in front of a house on the 2700 block of Raymond Avenue, where the female victim, Ying Wu, once lived.

"To help this effort, we are also announcing a reward provided by the University of Southern California to try to arrest the people responsible for this," he said.

Wu and Ming Qu, both 23 and second-year graduate students, were founded suffering multiple gunshot wounds after paramedics arrived at the scene minutes later. They were sent to a nearby hospital and pronounced dead later.

The authorities including FBI and the Los Angeles Police Department have been investigating the case. The shooter was determined a male, but it is not known which race he belonged to, Gannon said. He fled southward along Raymond Avenue.

The victims were serious about their studies, often studied late at night. It appears at this point the suspect approached the victim's vehicle, and fired two to three shots into the driver's side. A black sedan was also seen in the area, he added. He asked the public to come forward with any information to help the investigators.

Police presence could also been seen along the Raymond Avenue as of Friday. A mobile police office was parked outside the house where Wu once lived.

Chen Zhunmin, Education Consul from Chinese Consulate General in Los Angeles, said that the reward demonstrated USC's determination to bring the suspect to justice.

The parents and relatives of the victims are scheduled to arrive in Los Angeles Saturday evening, he said, quoting USC sources. Local Chinese scholars and students will help them during their stay in Los Angeles. The Chinese community is also sponsoring a fund raiser, as the victims came from ordinary Chinese families, instead of rich families as some news reports claimed.

The Chinese Consulate General is also planning to hold events to help Chinese students raise awareness of personal safety, Chen said.

With China's economic and social development entering a new stage, it is imperative to improve its long-controversial income distribution.

China has experienced decades of rapid economic development since the 1980s. However, the country's development has resulted in a marked income gap between urban and rural residents.

The adoption of land reforms based on the household contract responsibility system in rural areas in the early 1980s accelerated the transfer of rural labor to cities.

The flow of rural labor to the cities has helped reduce rural poverty, increased rural incomes and slowed the widening urban-rural income gap as the migrant workers have higher incomes than those who choose to stay at home farming.

However, the abundant supply of manpower from rural areas over the past decades, along with the firmly established household registration system and a dual labor market structure, has meant the incomes of migrant workers have failed to grow at the same pace as the incomes of their urban counterparts. Worse, prejudices toward migrant workers and preferential payment policies targeting urban residents mean the gap between their incomes has continued to widen.

Economic diversification as the result of marketized reforms has made business and property new sources of income. But while boosting the wealth of some, income from property has aggravated the income disparities. Since a standardized, transparent and fair resources and property distribution mechanism has failed to be established these disparities have kept widening.

The poverty alleviation policies and measures adopted by the government over the past decades have achieved remarkable effects, as indicated by the decline of the country's impoverished populations in rural areas to 26.88 million by the end of 2010 from 94.22 million at the end of 2000, before the country renewed its poverty line to catch up with the more popular World Bank level.

However, these policies and measures have failed to reverse the widening income gap between the country's urban and rural areas and among its different regions.

The country should fully realize that its income disparities mainly stem from the uneven distribution of national resources and property. Some institutional loopholes that have enabled some people to prosper from "gray incomes".

A fairer distribution of resources is needed, as policies and measures focused on the regulation and redistribution of labor remuneration-dominated incomes and pursuing wage equality will not change the monopolistic and unreasonable exploitation of the country's resources by some groups. Instead, they will undermine the interests of middle-income populations under the high-sounding

excuse of income regulation.

A legal and standardized procedure should be introduced for the exploitation and utilization of the country's land and mineral resources in a bid to avoid administrative and power interventions. Practical regulations should also be introduced to forestall any infringements of farmers' interests in the ownership transfer of rural collective lands.

Besides, a set of strict ownership definition standards should be set up to prevent the flow of State-owned assets to certain groups and individuals in the process of economic re-organization. At the same time, an effective monitoring system should be put in place to restrict or eradicate the power of individual local leaders in resource redistribution.

To help regulate the income of high-income groups through taxation, the country should implement inheritance and property taxes as soon as possible. At the same time, measures should be taken to encourage employees to hold shares in the enterprises for which they work in order to narrow the income gaps caused by the uneven exploitation of assets.

In addition, the country should try to strengthen the trade union and wage negotiation system to help raise wages. At the same time, practical steps should be taken toward building an inclusive and balanced education system to uproot one of the key causes of the current income gaps.

Last but not least, the influence exerted by vested interest groups on the country's income distribution policies should be eradicated by promoting a democratic, fair and transparent decision-making mechanism for income distribution.

The author is director of the Institute of Population and Labor Economics under the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.

.cn/business/2012-04/12/content_15031447.htm

Thu, Apr 12, 2012

第二篇：Reading Materials for the Course of Advanced English

Reading Materials for the Course of Advanced English

1. Reading skills --- Picking Apples:A New England Tradition

2. Sports --- Sun Changes the Tune of Doubters

3. Festivals --- The Establishment of New Festivals / The Qingming Festival

4. Making Speech --- I Have A Dream / Coping With Nervousness / Books in History

5. Traveling --- Let Taiwan Touch Your Heart

6. Love --- The Girl in The Fifth Row / Yellow Ribbon

7. The Way of Life --- How American Lives

8. Social Problems --- Gay / My Last Diving in the Olympics

9. Environment Protection --- America’s National Parks

10. Feeding the World --- Norman Borlaug

1

Picking Apples --- A New England Tradition

Throughout New England, people know that fall has arrived when the Mclntosh apples begin to turn red in the orchards in early September. After the “mac” come the Cortlands, the Empires, the McCoons and, finally, the Red and Golden Delicious. All through September and October, the aroma of ripe apples fills air on sunny days --- an invitation to come picking.

A day of apple picking is, in fact, a popular way to spend a fall day in New England. From Connecticut to Maine, it is generally possible to find an orchard within an hour?s drive and the trip is well worth the time. Not only will it provide you with plenty of the freshest apples to be found, but is also will give you a chance to take in some sunshine and autumn scenery and get some exercise. And the picking is usually best done in adults. Children should not climb up into trees and risk hurting themselves and damaging the trees --- younger members of the family can have fun just romping around the orchard.

The picking may not take long --- two hours at most --- but many of the orchard owners now offer other kinds of entertainment. At some orchards, you can go for pony rides or ride on a hay-filled wagon. You may be able to watch a horse-show or visit the cows or sheep in the pasture. Or you may decide to take a hike and have a picnic along a country lane. Some orchards have set up refreshment stands in their barns where you can taste local products, such as apple cider and homemade baked goods.

A few hints:

1. Call before you go. Check the local newspaper fro the names and locations of orchards which offer pick-you-own apples. Then phone to find out their hours, since they may vary from one orchard to another. You should also ask about the rules regarding bags and containers. Most orchards provide bags, but a few do not and some will allow only certain types of containers.

2. Check in when you arrive. Before you start picking, you should check within the orchard owner about which varieties are ripe in that period, and which parts of the orchard are open for picking. Respect the owner?s privacy and don not go where you are not allowed.

3. Pick carefully. When you pick the apples, treat them gently. Some orchard owners advise pickers to treat the apples as though they were eggs. If they bruise, they will spoil more quickly. The technique for picking is simple: hold the apple firmly but not too tightly and twist it off the branch, taking care to leave the stem attached, since removal of the stem will also cause rot.

4. Don’t waste apples. Be careful to pick only the apples you need. You may be tempted to pick too many of the delicious looking fruit, and then find that the apples go bad before you can eat them. Since the apples season lasts for almost two months, you can always return for another load of apples later.

5. Keep what you pick! Once you take an apple off the tree, you must keep it. It?s not fair to the orchard owner to leave apples on the ground where they will quickly spoil.

6. Store your apples properly. Put your apples in the refrigerator as soon as you get home. Studies by the Vermont Department of Agriculture have shown that apples last sever times longer when kept under refrigeration.

If you do pick too many apples to eat in a week or two, you could try freezing them to use later in pies and cakes. Simply peel, core and slice them, and then put them in airtight plastic bags. They may be kept in the freezer for up to a year.

2

Sun?s doubters change their tune

NBA experts are already calling him “Magic”, after the great Los Angeles Lakers player Magic Johnson. But if China?s Sun Yue, who was recently signed by the Lakers, wants to succeed in the world?s top basketball league, he?s going to need more than a few tricks. It?ll take lots of hard work.

As China?s fifth NBA exports, Sun has a lot going for him. The success of Yao Ming in particular has made the road to the NBA easier for players like Sun. And having played for three years in the American Basketball Association with the Beijing Aoshen Olympians, he already has experience playing overseas.

Sun was named to the ALL-ABA team in 2007 and 2008, and at the Olympics he impressed, averaging 6.8 points, 1.7 rebounds and 2.5 assists in about 28 minutes per game. However, when the Lakers first drafted Sun back in 2007, they certainly raised some eyebrows. Even Sun?s national team coach, Jonas Kazlauskas, was dubious about his chances of success in the NBA.

“If you ask me which skill Sun needs to improve in terms of playing in the NBA, I?d tell you he needs an all-around improvement,” he told SI.com. “He is not strong enough to join the games there.”

Before the draft, FIBA.com blogger Mark Nilrad, who also blogs about Chinese hoops, called Sun?s shot “horrible”, though he told HoopsWorld.com that the 23-year-old?s shooting could be improved. “It?s not a problem of form, merely not enough practice. Only a workaholic attitude will allow him to stay in the NBA,” Nilrad said.

Apparently, though, Sun has made enough strides that the Lakers think he?s ready for the big-time. He will join teammates Derek Fisher and Jordan farmar at point guard, though some believe he might also play at the No 2 guard spot.

His doubters also seem to have come around. Kazlauskas recently gave Sun his blessing: “Sun is very impressive on both ends. He has size, he can play three positions on court. He can play different offenses, and he is a great defender.”

Yao agrees: “He wasn?t a very good shooter and dribbler before, but … I noticed his progress after returning to China in July. I think he is ready for his NBA trip.”

As for Sun, he?s excited about his opportunity to play alongside Kobe Bryant. “At the Olympics, I met Kobe and told him I?d like to play with him next season. He said ?OK?, and ?See you in training camp?,” he told China Daily.

But if Sun wants his NBA tour to last, he?ll need to keep up the hard work --- and the “magic”.

Experts on Sun Yue’s Strengths and Weaknesses.

Good Ball-handler

I was very impressed by him during the Olympics. I think he has great size, great length, a good shooting touch. He was able to handle the ball. I tired to test him a little bit, see if he could go left, go right, that sort of thing. So I like him. --- Kobe Bryant, 30, Los Angeles Lakers.

Hard Work Ahead.

To improve his shooting, he will have to work and work and work. Yao Ming had to train himself to death to get where he was when he entered the draft in 2002, but then he had to redouble his efforts to be effective at the NBA level. For Sun, it will be the same. ---Mark Nilrad, FIBA.

3

Holidays:

The Qingming Festival (or Pure Brightness Day) is a day for mourning the dead. It is one of the 24 seasonal division points in the lunar calendar, falling on April 4th-6th each year. After the festival, the temperature rises and rainfall increases in readiness for spring plowing and sowing. Qingming Festival sees all cemeteries crowded with families who have come to sweep graves and offer sacrifices as a sign of respect to their ancestors.

The Double Seventh Festival, on the 7th day of the 7th lunar month, is a traditional festival full of romance. It usually falls on a day in August.

This festival is in mid-summer when the weather is warm and the grass and trees show their luxurious green. At night, when the sky is dotted with stars, people can see the Milky Way spanning form the north to the south. On each bank of it there is a bright star which looks at each other from afar. One of the stars is thought to be the weaver maid and the other the Cowherd. There is a beautiful love story about them passed down from generation to generation.

(The legend)

Long long ago, there was an honest and kind-hearted fellow named Niulang(Cowherd) who lead a miserable life. He had only one companion --- an old ox. One day, a fairy named Zhinv(The Weaver Maid) fell in love with him and came down secretly to the earth and married him. The cowherd farmed in the field and the Weaver Maid wove at home. They lived a happy life and gave birth to a boy and a girl. Unfortunately, the Empress of Heaven discovered their union and ordered the troops from Heaven to take the Weaver Maid back.

With the help of a celestial cattle, the Cowherd flew to heaven with his son and daughter. At the time when he was about to catch up with his wife, the Empress of Heaven took off one of her gold hairpins and drew a line with it in the air. Immediately a celestial river appeared in the sky. The Cowherd and Weaver Maid were separated by the river forever and could only shed their tears. Their love moved magpies, so tens of thousands of them came to build a bridge for the couple to meet each other. The Empress of Heaven was eventually moved and allowed them to meet each year on the 7th day of the 7th lunar month. Hence, their meeting date has been called qixi.

Make up a dialogue about 2 of festivals mentioned above.

The situation: Ann & Li are friends.

Ann, an oversea student, shows great interest in Chinese culture.

Li, a Chinese student, loves to introduce what he/she know about China to his/her American friend.

(Anne enters Li’s room, while Li is packaging for the weekend holiday.)

Anne: You are leaving. Where are you heading for?

Li: I?m going back home. This year I finally get a chance to go back to join my family?s tomb-sweeping. Anne: Are you going to sweep your ancestral tombs?

Li: Yeah. This is our Chinese tradition…….

Anne: ……

Li: …….

4

Sample Dialogue : Establishment of New Holidays

(Anne enters Li?s room, while Li is packaging for the weekend holiday.) Anne: You are leaving. Where are you heading for?

Li: I?m going back home. This year I finally get a chance to go back to join my family?s tomb-sweeping. Anne: Are you going to sweep your ancestral tombs?

Li: Yeah. This is our Chinese tradition. Around Qing Ming Festival, every family is supposed to show

their respect for their departed family members.

Anne: Oh, I see a lot of chrysanthemum sold in flower shops recently.

Li: We used to bring cracks, food, wine and paper money to tombs. Now for the sake of environmental

protection, we begin to use flowers to express our feelings.

Anne: Does every Chinese family observe the tradition?

Li: It?s hard to say; but it?s a tradition in most part of China. Besides, it is bright in late spring and the air is

fresh. The grass has turned green and peach trees, plum trees and pear trees are all in blossom. People feel comfortable when they go outing in the countryside.

Anne: Indeed.

Li: Before the new calendar of holidays, we were not off on Qing Ming Festival.

Anne: It is said that in June we will have another holiday called Dragon Boat Festival. Could you tell me

what particular tradition is related to this holiday?

Li: You mean the Double Fifth Festival. The festival was originally held to the memory of the ancient

patriotic poet called Qu Yuan. When his country was defeated in a war by the neighboring country, he drowned himself in despair on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month. So when the people of his country knew the news, they rushed from all over, rowing dragon boats on the river in an attempt to find his remains. Meanwhile, people throw Zongzi into the river to feed fish to keep Qu Yuan’s remains from being bitten by fish.

Anne: What a beautiful tale!

Li: Did you taste Zongzi, the rice wrapped up with weed leaves.

Anne: Not yet.

Li: My mom makes Zongzi every year. And in my county, we have a dragon race. I want to invite you to

come to my hometown to experience a real Chinese dragon boat festival if you are interested in it. Anne: Oh, you mean it. It?s so nice of you to have invited me. I can?t wait！

5

I have a dream

Martin Luther King

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, singed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been their years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still anguished in the corners of American society and finds himself in exile in his own land. And so we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

IN a sense we have come to our nation?s capital to cash a check. When the architect of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was the promise that all men --- yes, Black men as well as White men--- would be guaranteed the rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that American hasconcerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds”. But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great and so we have come to cash his check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksand?s of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God?s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro?s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen Sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst fro freedom by drinking form the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. And the marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people; for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have 6

come to realize that their destiny is tied up with out destiny, and they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone. And as we walk we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking that devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro?s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signing stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, and go back to Alabama. Go back to South Carolina. Go back to Georgia. Go back to Louisiana. Go back to the slums and ghettos of our Northern cities, knowing the somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” I have a dream that one day, on the red hills of Georgia, sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day down in Alabama --- with its vicious racists, with its governor?s lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification --- one day right here in Alabama, little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. And with this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to play together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

7

Coping with Nervousness

Rudolph F. Verderber

Most people confess to extreme nervousness at even the thought of giving a speech. Yet you must learn to cope with nervousness because speaking is important. Through speaking, we gain the power to share what we are thinking with others. Each of us has vital information to share: we may have the data needed to solve a problem; we may have an idea for our company or group; we may have insights that will influence the way people see an issue. We can only imagine the tremendous loss to business, governmental, educational, professional, and fraternal groups because anxiety prevents people from speaking up.

Let?s start with the assumption that you are indeed nervous --- you may in face be scared to dearth. Now what? Experience has proved that virtually anyone can learn to cope with the fear of public speaking. Consider the following points:

You are in good company. Not only do most beginning speakers suffer anxiety at the thought of speaking in public, but may experienced speakers confess to nervousness when they speak as well. Now, you may think, “Don?t give me that line --- you can?t tell me [fill in the name of a good speaker you know] is nervous when speaking in public!” Ask the person. He or she will tell you. Even powerful speakers like Abraham Lincoln and Franklin D. Roosevelt were nervous before speaking. The difference is nervousness among people is a matter of degree. Some people tremble, perspire, and experience shortness of breath and increased heartbeat. As they go through their speech, they may be so preoccupied with themselves that they lost contact with the audience, jump back and forth from point to point, and on occasion forget what they has planned to say. Others, however, may get butterflies in their stomachs and feel weak in their kneels, and still go on to deliver a strong speech. The secret is not to get rid of all your feelings but to learn to channel and control your nervousness.

Despite nervousness, you can make it through a speech. Very few people are so bothered by anxiety that they are unable to proceed with the speech. You may not enjoy the experience --- especially the first time --- but you can do it. In fact, it would be detrimental if you were not nervous. Why? Because you must be a little more aroused than usual to do your best. A bit of nervousness gets the adrenaline flowing --- and that brings you to speaking readiness.

Your listenersaren?t nearly as likely to recognize your feat as you might think. “The only thing we have to fear,” Franklin Roosevelt said, “is fear itself”. Many speakers worry that others will notice how nervous they are --- and that makes them even more self-conscious and nervous. The fact is that people, even speech instructors, will greatly underrate the amount of stage fright they believe a person has. Recently, a young woman reported that she broke out in hives before each speech. She was flabbergasted when other students said to her, “You seem so calm when you speak.” Try eliciting feedback from your listeners after a speech, Once you realize that your audience does not perceive your nervousness to the degree that you imagine, you will remove one unnecessary source of anxiety.

The more experience you get in speaking, the better you become at coping with nervousness. As you gain experience, you learn to think more about the audience and the message and less about yourself. Moreover, you come to realize that audiences, your classmates especially, are very supportive, especially in informative speech situations. After all, most people are in the audience because they want to hear you. As time goes on, you will come to find that having a group of people listening to you alone is a very satisfying experience. Now let?s consider what you can do about your nervousness. Coping with nervousness begins during the 8

preparation process and extends to the time you actually begin the speech.

The best way to control nervousness is to pick a topic you know something about and are interested in. Public speakers cannot allow themselves to be saddled with a topic they don?t care about. An unsatisfactory topic lays the groundwork for a psychological mindset that almost guarantees nervousness at the time of the speech. By the same token, selecting a topic you are truly interested in will help you focus on what you want to communicate and so lay the groundwork for a satisfying speech themselves.

A second key to controlling nervousness is to prepare adequately for your speech. If you feel in command of your material and delivery, you?ll be far more confident. During the preparation period, you can also be “psying yourself up” for the speech. Even in your classroom speeches, if you have a suitable topic, and if you are well prepared, your audience will feel they profited from listening to you. Before you say, “come on, who are you trying to kid!” think of lectures, talks and speeches you have heard. When the speaker seemed knowledgeable and conveyed enthusiasm, weren?t you impressed? The fact is that some of the speeches you hear in class are likely to be among the best and most informative or moving speeches you are ever going to hear. Public speaking students learn to put time and effort into their speeches, and many classroom speeches turn out to be surprisingly interesting and valuable. If you work at your speech, you will probably sense that your class looks forward to listening to you.

Perhaps the most important time for coping with nervousness is shortly before you give your speech. Research indicates that it is during the period right before you walk up to give your speech and the time when you have your initial contact with the audience that your fear is most likely to be at its greatest.

When speeches are being scheduled, you may be able to control when you speak. Are you better off “getting it over with”, that is, being the first person to speak that day? If so, you may be able to volunteer to go first. But regardless of when you are scheduled to speak, try not to spend your time thinking about yourself or your speech. At the moment the class begins, you have done all you can to be prepared. This is the time to focus your mind on something else. Try to listen to each of the speeches that come before yours. Get involved with what each speaker is saying. When you turn comes, you will be far more relaxed than if you had spent the time worrying about your own speech.

As you walk to the speaker?s stand, remind yourself that you have ideas what want to convey, that you are well prepared, and that your audience is going to want to hear what you have to say. Even if you make mistakes, the audience will be focusing on your ideas and will profit from your speech.

When you reach the stand, pause a few seconds before you start and establish eye contact with the audience. Take a deep breath to help get your breathing in order. Try to move about a little during the first few sentences --- sometimes, a few gestures or a step one way or another is enough to break some of the tension. Above all, concentrate on communicating with your audience --- your goal is to share your ideas, not to give a performance.

9

Let Taiwan Touch Your Heart

You may know of Taiwan as the “island of technology” or as a business hub, but did you also know it?s home to dozens of species of rare and endangered wildlife? Or that it boasts pristine white beaches, mouth-watering cuisine and a diverse range of vibrant festivals

Taiwan?s unique location at the edge of the Asian continental shelf in the Pacific Ocean it is perfectly placed to please any visitor. If it?s eco-adventures you seek, look no further than Taiwan?s countless mountains and abundant lakes, rivers, waterfalls and gorges, where you will find rich flora and fauna, black bears and the famous Formosan salamander. Journey to the nation?s coasts for dips in warm, blue waters, snorkeling trips and scuba divingand explore emerald-green islands to the south.

If it?s cultural experiences you desire, Taiwan is the place to go. Here, you will find colorful floats and festivities, and fascinating, longstanding customs and rituals thanks to a rare blend of Hakka, Taiwanese, indigenous and Mainland Chinese heritage and religious practices. Immerse yourself in the gaiety and kaleidoscopic colors of the Lantern Festival and in the mystery of the indigenous Saisiyat Tribe?s Short Spirit Festival. Experience firsthand the spectaculars processions of the Ghost Festival and the chanting of Buddhist

Just as the festivals of Taiwan will inspire and delight culture vultures, so too will the country?s modern and traditional arts. Elaborately carved wooden puppets whose manipulation takes decades to master, elegant calligraphy work and edgy contemporary art --- these are but a few examples of Taiwan?s impressive artistic talents.

Once you have finished exploring Taiwan?s cultural sights and uncovering its natural beauty, culinary wondersHakka specialties in hidden havens, or experience international fine dining at world-class hotels. Taiwan is truly a gourmand’s paradise, with taste sensations for every budget and preference.

jungles, Taiwan is sure to exceed your expectations every time.

10

The Girl in the Fifth Row

On my first day as an assistant professor of education at the University of Southern California, I entered the classroom with a great deal of anxiety. My large class responded to my awkward smile and brief greeting with silence. For a few moments I fussed with my notes. Then I started my lecture, stammering; no one seemed to be listening.

At that moment of panic I noticed in the fifth row a poised, attentive young woman in a summer dress. Her skin was tanned, her brown eyes were clear and alert, her hair was golden. Her animated expression and warm smile were an invitation for me to go on. When I?d say something, she would nod, or say, “Oh, yes!” and write it down. She emanated the comforting feeling that she cared about what I was trying so haltingly to say. I began to speak directly to her, and my confidence and enthusiasm returned. After a while I risked looking about. The other students had begun listening and taking notes. This stunning young woman had pulled me through.

After class, I scanned the roll to find her name: Liani. Her papers, which I read over the subsequent weeks, were written with creativity, sensitivity and a delicate sense of humor.

I had asked all my students to visit my office during the semester, and I awaited Liani?s visit with special interest. I wanted to tall her how she had saved my first day, and encourage her to develop her qualities of caring and awareness.

Liani never came. About five weeks into the semester, she missed two weeks of classes. I asked the students seated around her if they knew why. I was shocked to learn that they did not even know her name. I thought of Albert Schiweitzer?s poignant statement: “We are all so much together and yet we are all dying of loneliness.”

I went to out dean of women. The moment I mentioned Lian?s name, she winced: “Oh, I?m sorry, Leo.” She said. “I thought you?d been told …”

Liani had driven to Pacific Palisades, a lovely community near downtown Los Angeles where cliffs fall abruptly into the sea. There, shocked picnickers later reported, she jumped to her death.

Liani was 22 years old! And her God-given uniqueness was gone forever.

I called Liani?s parents. Form the tenderness with which Liani?s mother spoke of her, I knew that she had been loved. But it was obvious to me that Liani had not felt loved.

“What are we doing ?” I asked a colleague. “We are so busy teaching things. What?s the value of teaching Liani to read, write, do arithmetic, if we taught her nothing of what she truly need to know: how to have a sense of personal worth and dignity?”

I decided to do something to help others who needed to feel loved. I would teach a course in love.

I spend months in library research but found little help. Almost all the books on love dealt with sex or romantic love. There was virtually nothing on love in general. But perhaps if I offered myself only as a facilitator, the students and I could teach one another and learn together. I called the course Love Class.

It took only one announcement to fill this non-credit course. I gave each student a reading list, but there were no assigned texts, no attendance requirements, no exams. We just shared our reading, our ideas, our experiences.

My premise is that love is learned. Our “teachers” are the loving people we encounter. If we find no models to love, then we grow up love-starved and unloving. The happy possibility, I told my students, is that love can be learned at any moment of our lives if we are willing to put in the time, the energy and the practice.

Few missed even one session of Love Class. I had to crowd the students closer together as they brought mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, husbands, wives --- even grandparents. Scheduled to start at 7 P.M. 11

and end at 10, the class often continued until well past midnight.

One of the first things I tried to get across was the importance of touching. “How many of you have hugged someone --- other than a girlfriend, boyfriend or your spouse within the past week?” Few hands went up. One student said, “I?m always afraid that my motives will be misinterpreted.” From the nervous laughter, I could tell that many shared the young woman?s feeling.

“Love has a need to be expressed physically,” I responded. “I feel fortunate to have grown up in a passionate, hugging Italian family. I associate hugging with a more universal kind of love.”

“But if you are afraid of being misunderstood, verbalize your feelings to be the person you?re hugging. And for people who are really uncomfortable about being embraced, a warm, two-handed handshake will satisfy the need to be touched.

We began to hug one another after class. Eventually, hugging became a common greeting among class members on campus.

We never left Love Class without a plan to share love. One night we decided we should thank our parents. This produced unforgettable response.

One student, a varisty football player, was especially uncomfortable with the assignment. He felt love strongly, but he has difficulty expressing it. It took a great deal of courage and determination for him to walk into the living room, raise his dad from the chair and hug him warmly. He said, “ I love you, Dad,” and kissed him. His father?s eyes welled up with tears as he muttered, “I know. And I love you, too, son.” His father called me the next morning to say this had been one of the happiest moments of his life.

For another Love Class assignment we agreed to share something of ourselves, without expectation of reward. Some students helped disable children. Others assisted derelicts on Skid Row. Many volunteered to work on suicide hot lines, hoping to find the Lianis before it was too late.

I went with one of my students, Joel, to a nursing home not far form U.S.C. A number of aged people were lying in beds in old cotton gowns, staring at the ceiling. Joel looked around and then asked, “What?ll I do?” I said, “ You see that woman over there? Go say hello.”

He went over and said, “Uh, hello.”

She looked at him suspiciously for a minute. “Are you a relative?”

“No.”

“Good! Sit down, young man.”

Oh, the things she told him! This woman knew so much about love, pain, suffering. Even about approaching death, with which she has to make some kind of peace. But no one had cared about listening --- until Joel. He started visiting her once a week. Soon, that began to be known as “Joel?s Day”. He would come and all the old people would gather.

Then the elderly woman asked her daughter to bring her in a glamorous dressing gown. When Joel came for his visit, he found her sitting up in bed in a beautiful satin gown, her hair done up stylishly. She hadn?t had her hair fixed in ages: why have your hair done if nobody really sees you? Before long, others in the ward were dressing up for Joel.

The years since I began Love Class have been the most exciting of my life. While attempting to open doors to love for others, I found that the doors were opening for me.

I ate in a greasy spoon in Arizona not long ago. When I ordered pork chops somebody said, “You?re crazy. Nobody eats pork chops in a place like this.” But the chops were magnificent.

“I?d like to meet the chef,” I said to the waiter.

We walked back to the kitchen, sand there he was, a big, sweaty man. “What?s the matter?” he demanded. “Nothing. Those pork chops were just fantastic.”

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He looked at me as though I was out of my mind. Obviously it was hard for him to receive a compliment. Then he said warmly, “Would you like another?”

Isn?t that beautiful? Had I not learned how to be loving, I would have thought nice things about the chef?s pork chops, but probably wouldn?t have told him --- just as I had failed to tell Liani how much she had helped me that first day in class. That?s one of the things love is: sharing joy with people.

Another secret of love is knowing that you are yourself special, that in all the world there is only one of you. If I had a magic wand and a single wish, I would wave the wand over everybody and have each individual say, and believe, “I like me, right this minute. Just as I am, and what I can become. I?m great.”

The pursuit of love has made a wonder of my life. But what would my existence have been like had I never known Liani? Would I still be stammering out subject matter at students, year after year, with little concern about the vulnerable human beings behind the masks? Who can tell? Liani presented me with the challenge, and I took it up! I wish Liani were here today. I would hold her in my arms and say, “Many people have helped me learn about love, but you gave me the impetus. Thank you. I love you.” But I believe my love for Liani has, in some mysterious way, already reached her.

13

The Yellow Ribbon

Pete Hamill

They were going to Fort Lauderdale, the girl remembered later. There were six of them, three boys and three girls, and they picked up the bus at the old terminal on 34th Street, carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags, dreaming of golden beaches and the tides of the sea as the gray cold spring of New York vanished behind them. Vingo was on board from the beginning.

As the bus passed through Jersey and into Philly, they began to notice that Vingo never moved. He sat in front of the young people, his dusty face masking his age, dressed in a plain brown ill-fitting suit. His fingers were stained from cigarettes and he chewed the inside of his lip a lot,

Somewhere outside of Washington, deep into the night, the bus pulled into a Howard Johnson?s, and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat, and the young people began to wonder about him, trying to imagine his life: Perhaps he was a sea captain, maybe he had run away from his wife, he could be an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus, the girl sat beside him and introduced herself.

“We?re going to Florida,” the girl said brightly. “You going that far?”

“I don?t know.” Vingo said.

“I?ve never been there,” she said. “I hear it?s beautiful.”

“It is,” he said quietly, as if remembering something he had tried to forget.

“You live there?”

“I did some time there in the Navy. Jacksonville.”

“Want some wine?” she said, He smiled and took the bottle of Chianti and took a swig. He thanked her and retreated again into his silence. After a while, she went back to the others, as Vingo nodded in sleep.

IN the morning they awoke outside another Howard Johnson?s, and this time Vingo went in. The girl insisted that he join them. He seemed very sky and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously, as the young people chattered about sleeping on the beaches. When they went back on the bus, the girl sat with Vingo again, and after a while, slowly and painfully and with great hesitation, he began to tell his story. He had been in jail in New York for the last four years, and now he was going home.

“Four years!” the girl said. “What did you do?”

“It doesn?t matter,” he said with quiet bluntness. “I did it and I went to jail. If you can?t do the time, don?t do the crime. That?s what they say and they?re right.”

“Are you married?”

“I don?t know.”

“You don?t know?” she said.

“Well, when I was in the can I wrote to my wife,” he said. “I told her, I said, Martha, I understand if you can?t say married to me. I told her that, I said I was gonna be away a long time, and that if she couldn?t stand it, if the kids kept askin? questions, if it hurt her too much, well, she could just forget me. Get a new guy --- she?s a wonderful woman, really something --- and forget about me. Get a new guy --- she?s a wonderful woman, really something --- and forget about me. I told her she didn?t have to write me or nothing. And she didn?t. Not for three and a half years.”

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“And you?re going home now, not knowing?”

“Yeah,” he said shyly. “Well, last week, when I was sure the parole was coming through I wrote her. I told her that if she had a new guy, I understood. But if she didn?t, if she would take me back, she should let me know. We used to live in this town, Brunswick, just before Jacksonville, and there?s a great big oak tree just as you come into town, a very famous tree, huge. I told her if she would take me back, she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree, and I would get off and come home. If she didn?t want me, forget it, no handkerchief, and I?d keep going on through.”

“Wow,” the girl said. “Wow.”

She told the others, and soon all of them were in it, caught up in the approach of Brunswick, looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children, the woman handsome in a plain way, the children stillin a cracked, much-handled snapshot. Now they ere twenty miles from Brunswick and the young people took over window seats on the right side, waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con?s mask, as if still another disappointment. Then it was ten miles, and then five and then bus a dark hushed mood, full of silence, of absence, of lost years, of the woman?s plain face, of the sudden letter on the breakfast table, of the wonder of children, of the iron bars of solitude.

Then suddenly all of the young people were up out of their seats, screaming and shouting and crying, doing small dances, . All except Vingo.

Vingo sat there stunned, looking at the oak tree. It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs, twenty of the, thirty of them, maybe hundreds, a tree that stood like rose from his seat, holding himself tightly, and made his way to the front of the bus to go home.

Writing Assignment:

I. Summarize the story of “The Yellow Ribbon”.

II. 1. Vingo?s wife had to decide whether to forgive Vingo and welcome him back into her life. Think of a time when you had to decide whether or not to forgive someonw. Write a paragraph that describes that situation. Begin by explaining who the other person was and what your relationship had been like. Then describe what he or she did to hurt or offend you and how you felt about what happened. Continue by explaining how you made the decision whether or not to forgive the person. End your paragraph by saying how you feel about your decision now.

2. In “The Yellow Ribbon,” Hamill provides various clues to Vingo;s character. His body language, his conversation with his fellow passengers, what he has to say about his past and his family, and his attitude as the bus nears his hometown all contribute to the readers? opinion of what kind of man he is. Write a paragraph that supports the following topic sentence: “Details in the story suggest that Vingo is a decent man who deserves the yellow ribbons.” Find specific evidence in the story to back up that statement.

15

How American Lives

Americans still follow many of the old ways. In a time of rapid change it is essential that we remember how much of the old we cling to. Young people still get married. Of course, many do get divorced, but they remarry at astonishing rates. They have children, but fewer than before. They belong to churches, even though they attend somewhat less frequently, and they want their children to have religious instruction. They are willing to pay taxes for education, and they generously support institutions like hospitals, museums and libraries. In fact, when you compare the America of today with that of 1950, the similarities are far greater than the differences.

Americans seem to be growing conservative. The 1980 election, especially for the Senate and House of Representatives, signaled a decided turn to the right insofar as political and social attitudes were concerned. It is as if our country spent the 1960s and 1970s jealously breaking out of old restraints and now wishes to put the brakes on, as cautious people often do after a binge. We should expect to see a reaffirmation of traditional family values, sharp restrains on pornography, a return to religion and a rejection of certain kinds of social legislation.

Patterns of courtship and marriage have changed radically. Where sex was concerned, I was raised in an atmosphere of suspicion, repression and Puritanism. And although husky young kids can survive almost anything, many in my generation suffered grievously. Without reservation, I applaud the freer patterns of today, although I believe that it?s been difficult for some families to handle the changes.

American women are changing the rules. Thirty years ago I could not have imagined a group of women employees suing a major corporation for million of dollars of salary which, they alleged, had been denied them because they had been discriminated against. Nor could I imagine women in universities going up to the men who ran the athletic programs and demanding a just share of the physical education budget. But they are doing this --- and with the support of many men who recognize the justice of their claims. At work, at play, at all levels of living women are suggesting new rules.

America is worried about its schools. If I had a child today, I would send her or him to a private school for the sake of safety, for the discipline that would be enforced and for the rigorous academic requirements. But I would doubt that the child would get any better education than I did in my good public school. The problem is that good public schools are becoming pitifully rare, and I would not want to take the chance that the one I sent my children to was inadequate.

Some Americans must live on welfare. Since it seems obvious that our nation can produce all its needs with only a part of available work force, some kind of social welfare assistance must be doled out to those who cannot find jobs. When I think of a typical welfare recipient I think of a young neighbor woman whose husband was killed in a tragic accident, leaving her with three young children. IN the bad old days, she might have known destitution, but with family assistance she was able to hold her children together and produced three fine, tax-paying citizens. I think that kind of social assistance and am willing to support it. America is essentially a compassionate society.

America cannot find housing for its young families. I consider this the most serious danger confronting family life in America, and I am appalled that the condition has been allowed to develop. For more than a decade, travelers like me have been aware that in countries like Swede, Demark, Russia and India young people have found it almost impossible to acquire homes. In Sweden the customary wait was 11 years of marriage, and we 16

used to ask, “what went wrong?” It seemed to us that a major responsibility of any nation would be to provide homes for its young people starting their families. Well, this dreadful social sickness has now overtaken the United States, and for the same reasons. The builders in our society find it profitable to erect three-bathroom homes that sell for $220,000 with a mortgage at 19 percent but find it impossible to erect small homes for young marrieds. For a major nation to show itself impotent to house its young people is admitting a failure that must be corrected.

Our prospects are still good. I find our chances to be at least as good as those of any other nation and probably better. We have a physical setting of remarkable integrity, the world?s best agriculture, a splendid wealth of minerals, great rivers for irrigation and an unsurpassed system of roads for transportation. We also have a magnificent mixture of people form all the continents with varied traditions and strengths. But most of all, we have a unique and balanced system of government.

I think of America as having the oldest form of government on earth, because since we started our present democracy in 789, every other nation has suffered either parliamentary change or revolutionary change. It is our system that has survived and should survive, giving the maximum number of people a maximum chance for happiness.

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Gay

When he went home last year he realized for the first time that he would be buried there, in the small, gritty industrial town he had loathed for as long as he could remember. He looked out of the window of his bedroom and saw the siding on the house next door and knew that he was trapped, as surely as if he had never left for the city. Late one night, before he was to go back to his won apartment, his father tried to have a conversation with him, halting and slow, about drug use and the damage it could do to your body. At that moment he understood that it would be more soothing to his parents to think that he was a heroin addict than that he was a homosexual.

This is part of the story of a friend of a friend of mine. She went to his funeral not too long ago. The funeral home forced the family to pay extra to embalm him. Luckily, the local paper did not need to print cause of death. His parents? friends did not ask what killed him, and his parents didn?t talk about it. He had AIDS. His parents had figured out at the same time that he was dying and that he slept with men. He tried to talk to them about his illness; he didn?t want to discuss his homosexuality. That would have been too hard for them all.

Never have the lines between sex and death been so close, the chasm between parent and child so wide. His parents hoped almost until the end that some nice girl would “cure” him. They even hinted broadly that my friend might be that nice girl. After the funeral, as she helped with the dishes in their small kitchen with the window onto the backyard, she lost her temper at the subterfuge and said to his mother: “He was gay. Why is that more terrible than that he is dead?” The mother did not speak, but raised her hands from the soapy water and held them up as though to ward off the words.

I suppose this is true of many parents. For some it is simply that they think homosexuality is against God, against nature, condemns their sons to hell. For others it is something else, more difficult to put into words. It makes their children too different from them. We do not want our children to be too different --- so different that they face social disapprobation and ostracism, so different that they die before we do. His parents did not know any homosexuals, or at least they did not believe they did. His parents did not know what homosexuals were like.

They are like us. They are us. Isn?t that true? And yet, there is a difference. Perhaps mothers sometimes have an easier time accepting this. After all, they must accept early on that there are profound sexual differences between them and their sons. Fathers think their boys will be basically like them. Sometimes they are. And sometimes, in a way that comes to mean so much, they are not.

I have thought of this a fair amount because I am the mother of sons. I have managed to convince myself that I love my children so much that nothing they could do would turn me against them, or away from them, that nothing would make me take their pictures off the bureau and hide the in a drawer. A friend says I am fooling myself, that I would at least be disappointed and perhaps distressed if, like his, my sons? sexual orientation was not hetero. Maybe he?s right. There are some obvious reasons to feel that way. If the incidence of AIDS remains higher among homosexuals than among heterosexuals, it would be one less thing they could die of. If societal prejudices remain constant, it would be one less thing they could be ostracized for.

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But this I think I know: I think I could live with having a son who was homosexual. But it would break my heart if he was homosexual and felt that he could not tell me so, felt hat I was not the kind of mother who could hear that particular truth. That is a kind of death, too, and it kills both your life with your child and all you have left after the funeral: the relationship that can live on inside you, if you have nurtured it.

In the days following his death, the mother of my friend?s friend mourned that fact that she had known little of his life, had not wanted to know. “I spent too much time worrying about what he was,” she said. Not who. What. And it turned out that there was not enough time, not with almost daily obituaries of people barely three decades old, dead of a disease she had ever heard of when she first wondered about the kind of friends her body had and why he didn?t date more.

It reminded me that often we take our sweet time dealing with the things that we do not like about our children: the marriage we cold not accept, the profession we disapproved of, the sexual orientation we may hate and fear. Sometimes we wow that we will never, never accept those things. The stories my friend told me about the illness, the death, the funeral and, especially, about the parents reminded me that sometimes we don not have all the time we think to make our peace with who our children are. It reminded me that never can last a long, long time, perhaps much longer than we intended, deep in our hearts, when we first invoked its terrible endless power.

Questions for discussion

1. What is the author?s purpose in this essay?

2. How do people treat homosexuality?

3. How does the author respond to the parents? denial of their children?s homosexuality?

4. What does the author refer to in the last paragraph?

5. After reading the essay, what did you learn about homosexuality?

19

American’s National Parks

Once upon a time, the Republican Party was seen as a party of conservation. After all, it was Abe Lincoln who set aside the first parcel of what would later become Yosemite National Park. Ulysses S. Grant protected the land that became Yellowstone. Everyone knows about Theodore Roosevelt --- among other deeds, he signed the American Antiquities Act of 1996, which preserved the Grand Canyon. Calvin Coolidge protected Glacier Bay; Dwight Eisenhower took the first steps toward setting aside the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. And with strong bipartisan support, Richard Nixon in 1970s signed many of the defining laws of the environmental movement: the Clean Air Act, the National Environmental Policy Act, and the Endangered Species Act.

The National Park Service of the U.S.A. controls more than 77 million acres of land, divided up into 320 park sites of extraordinary variety, the latest coving huge areas of wilderness in Alaska. There are urban or city parks, ancient buildings and historic sites, seashore parks, national rivers, and more and more recreation areas where priority is giving to the amusement of the public. Finally there are the National Parks themselves, which are visited by millions, but where the priority is conservation. IN a country of free enterprise, where business interests are so powerful, there parks play an essential role. It was the conservationists who saved the remaining giant redwood trees and created the National Redwood Park, on the far side of the Golden Gate Bridge which spans the entrance to San Francisco Bay. The lumberjacks were so furious that they marched into the city to protest, shouting “No more parks!” But the environmentalists and conservationists have always been allowed to have their say in the “Land of the Free,” and their influence has been greater than in most countries.

The first national Park, founded in 1872, was Yellowstone, in the state of Wyoming. Yellowstone has everything that appeals to the romantic, geysers which shoot jets of boiling water 200 feet up into the air, a deep canyon where a rushing river pours over mighty waterfalls. There are snowy mountain peaks, tree-fringed lakes and vast forests, as well as borad water meadows, across which the Yellowstone River glides gently on its way do the canyon. On these meadow, bison, elk, moose and deer come to graze in the evening.

American national parks represent one of the finest examples of nature conservation in the world. All the parks are kept as natural as possible. In the Far West, lumbermen devastated whole forsts. But no tree-feeling is allowed in parks. When a tree falls, it is left to rot and enrich the soil, and so encourage young trees to grow. Even natural forest fires, those not started by man are allowed, in many parks, to burn themselves out.

Animals learned years ago that man was not their enemy in the national parks. Many of theme became so tame that they were a nuisance, and sometimes even a danger. Bears, in particular, lined the roads and begged for food. They were so comical that people stopped to feed them, thus breaking one of the strictest rules of the parks. This was not natural conversation! Cookies and candy are not part of a bear?s normal diet! There were a so some unfortunate accidents, for even the fairly mild black bear cannot tell where the cookie ends and the hand begins. In Yellowstone, the bears have been taken miles away into the wilderness, but in a few other parks they are still a nuisance.

The national parks are run by the National Park Ranger Service. The Rangers are men and women with special qualities; for they are not only conservationists. They also have to look after the visitors. They act as guides, and must be ready to answer quite learned questions on the plants, animals and geology of the parks. 20

IN addition, they are trained policemen and policewomen qualified to use guns, though they keep these weapons out of sight in their cars, not wishing to spoil their friendly image with the public.

Rangers must be ready to deal with emergencies of all kinds. They frequently have to rescue inexperienced climbers stuck half way up a mountain rock face. Then there are some backpackers, who in midsummer walk with their packs on their backs to the bottom of the Grand Canyon without enough water, regardless of the warning that the temperature is many degrees higher on the floor of the canyon, one mile down, than it is on the rim.

The national parks make few concessions to tourisms. Visitors are warned of the dangers, but they are expected to look after themselves and be self-reliant. There is no cable car to the floor of the Grand Canyon, and no motor road. The only way of getting to the bottom is to follow a rough track down the precipices on a mule or on foot. The shortest trail is seven miles long.

In the mountains and forests of the northwestern States there is one animal that is especially to be feared the brown, or grizzly, bear. It is the largest and most ferocious carnivore (flesh eater) in the world and will attack humans on sight. Grizzles are now rare, but there are more than 290 of them in Yellowstone. There are warnings everywhere, about not leaving food uncovered in tents at night, about what to do if you suddenly meet a grizzly on a lonely trail. The grizzly is a protected animal, and if the Rangers have to shoot one, they use tranquilizing darts instead of bullets whenever possible.

One of the biggest problems for the conservationists is preserving the parks from the footsteps of the countless millions of visitors. Until recently, campers would line up along the valley floor for places in the campsites at Yosemite, which is about 375 miles east of San Francisco. Now they must make their reservations months ahead. There are one or two hotels in the bigger parks, and also groups of log cabins. Outside the park boundaries there is a growing rash of motels. But the wilderness in the heart of every park is untouched.

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Norman Borlaug

Norman Borlaug, feeder of the world, died on September 12th, 2009, aged 95.

As DAWN broke over northern Mexico, Norman Borlaug wriggled from his sleeping bag. Rats had run over him all night, and he was cold. In a corner of the dilapidated research station where he had tried to sleep, he found a rustling plough. He took it outside, strapped the harness to himself and began, furiously and crazily, in front of a group of astonished peasants, to plough the land.

The point was the he needed a tractor, and at once. He had come to Mexico in 1944, leaving a good job at Dupoint, to increase grain yields, and to bring these half-starving people food. Hunger made its own imperatives. Feeding people could not wait. For the next ten years he was to work 12-hour days in these dry, baking fields, walking a a half-stoop to examine the stems for disease, perching on a stool to remove, with delicate tweezers, the male stamens of wheat flowers, harvesting wheat at one altitude to plant it immediately at another, until by 1956 Mexico?s wheat production had doubled, and it had become self-sufficient.

Wherever he went, Mr Borlaug showed the same impatience. Paperwork was spurned in facor of action; planting, advising, training thousands. In India, where he set up hundreds of one-acre plots to show suspicious farmers how much they could grow, he was so frustrated by bureaucracy that when at last his seed came, shipped from Los Angeles, he planted it at once despite the outbreak of war between India and Pakistan, sometimes by flashes of artillery fire. And when in 1984 he was drawn out of semi-retirement to take his seed and techniques to Africa, he forgot in a moment, once he saw the place, his plan to do years of research first. “Let?s just start growing,” he said.

As a boy, he hadn?t known what hunger was. He came from a small Norwegian farm in Iowa, the land the butter-sculptures and the breaded tenderloin sandwich. But on his first trip to the Minneapolis, in 1933m grown men had begged him for a nickel for a cup of coffee and a small, dry hamburger, and a riot had started round him when a milk-cart dumped its load in the street. He saw then how close to breakdown America was, because of hunger. It was impossible “to build a peaceful world on empty stomachs”.

Crop diseases drew his attention first, inspiring him to turn from forestry to plant pathology under Charles Stakman, a life-long mentor, at the University of Minnesota. Rusts especially exercised him: how they lived, under the green live tissue of stems, how they spread, traveling for miles on the jet stream, and how they feel from the sky to infect even the healthiest crop, if the moisture and temperatures were right. Rust had devastated the Midwest in the 1930s, and Mexico shortly before he went there. So Mr Borlaug first bred wheat cultivars for rust-resistance, a ten-year task, and then crossed them with Norin, a dwarf Japanese variety, to produce a shorter, straighter, stronger wheat which, when properly charged with water and fertilizer, gave three times the yield.

This was the wheat the swept India in its “Green Revolution”, raising yields form 12m tones in 1964 to 20m by 1970., causing the country to run out of jute bags to carry it, carts and railcars to transport it, and places to store it; that made Pakistan self-sufficient in wheat by 1968, that almost doubled yields even in Sudan, on the edge of the Sahel. The famines and huge mortality that had been predicated for the second half the 20th century never came to pass. More food led not to more births, but fewer, as the better-fed had smaller families. Global grain production outpaced population growth, and Mr Borlaug won the Nobel Prize in 1970 for saving hundreds of millions of lives.

Greens attached him, saying his new varieties used too much water and costly chemical fertilizer; his link with DuPont was noted. They complained the traditional farming was disrupted and diversity replaced by monoculture. Mr Borlaug called them naysayer and elitists, who had never known hunger but thought, for the 22

health of the planet, that the poor should go without good food. Higher yields, he pointed out, saved marginal land and forest form farming. Inorganic fertilizer just replaced natural nutrients, and more efficiently than manure. As for cross-breeding, Mother Nature had done it first, cross-pollinating different wild grasses until they produced a grain that could eventually expand into modern bread.

The ticking clock

Genetic engineering of plants greatly excited him. The risks, he said, were rubbish, unproven by science, while the potential benefits were endless. The transfer of useful characteristics might now take weeks, rather than decades. More lives would be saved. The gene for rust-resistance in rice, for example, might be put into all other cereals, He hoped he might live to see it.

Meanwhile what he called the “Population Monster” was breathing down his neck, or rather ticking, like Captain Hook?s Crocodile. Every second brought two more people, crying to be fed. By 2050, he wrote in 2005, the world would need to double its food supply, Some 88m were malnourished as it was. Mr Borlaug loved to talk of reaching for the stars, but his day-to-day motto was an earthly one. Get the plough. Start growing now.

From The Economist (September 2009)

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