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華裔女孩憑一篇作文被八所常春藤名校錄取

http://news.sina.com   2017年04月17日 07:50   僑報

  【僑報網綜合訊】憑藉一篇作文,美國華裔女孩被八所常春藤盟校錄取。

  3月30日是美國常春藤大學放榜的日子,華裔第一代移民蕭靖彤(Cassandra Hsiao)當天得知,自己收到了八所常春藤盟校的錄取通知書。

  蕭靖彤(右)與母親(左)(圖片:BBC中文網)

  據BBC中文網報導,最近,一個出生於馬來西亞的17歲美國華裔女孩蕭靖彤被全部八所常春藤盟校錄取,成為熱門話題。

  蕭靖彤的父親是台灣人,母親是馬來西亞華人,五歲時移居美國。蕭靖彤目前住在加州核桃市,畢業於橙縣藝術學校(Orange County School of the Arts)。

  這個女孩之所以被八所常青藤學校錄取,主要是由於她寫了一篇作文。而這篇作文之所以打動了八所常青藤盟校,是因為寫出了真情實感。

  她在作文中回顧了她和母親在美國學習英語的艱難經歷。剛到美國時,她們的英語發音不准。蕭靖彤寫道:“在我家裏,英語不是英語”,但她和家人卻能毫無問題地溝通。她寫道:"在我家裏,我們说話的方式很美。在我家裏,我們的話並不‘爛’,而是充滿了感情。我們用詞語建了一座房子……這房子有點歪,有點雜亂無章,但這是我們的家。”

  這篇文章目前已經吸引了哈佛大學、普林斯頓大學、耶魯大學、達特茅斯大學、布朗大學、哥倫比亞大學、康奈爾大學和賓夕法尼亞大學。因為同時被8所常春藤名校錄取,所以卡桑德拉需要在這8所學校中做出選擇。

  據悉,18歲的蕭靖彤共申請14所大學的寫作或新聞類學系,目前全部錄取。蕭靖彤有感而發说:之所以申請這麼多,主要是亞裔學生能力強,競爭激烈,很怕無法被錄取,擔心自己沒選擇。

  除了文章吸引各大名校外,其實蕭靖彤也是一位多才多藝的姑娘。據美國The Tab報導,蕭靖彤在學校的時候經常作為青少年記者做一些採訪,並且編寫舞台劇故事。

  目前,蕭靖彤還未決定去哪所大學。她將在幾個星期內訪問各大名校,看哪所最適合自己。“我接下來會去這些學校一一參觀,再作決定。”不過她透露自己一直很喜歡哈佛大學,七年級時她曾去過哈佛參觀。

  當被問到在申請大學論文中關注重點是什麼時,蕭靖彤说,自己的父母都是移民,英文不是他們的第一語言,而自己在一個移民家庭裏生長也十分有趣。“而當自己在家外说一些在家裏使用的詞彙時,外面的人會嘲笑我,但這些東西對於我來说是十分正常的,所以我把這些經歷都寫到申請作文裏去了。”

  蕭靖彤表示:"身份認同感和歸屬感是最能讓人産生共鳴的東西。我想和他人分享我家庭生活的一個側面,我和母親的感情和我們倆的經歷。"

  當蕭靖彤談到自己母親時,他表示感謝母親對自己的教育。她说:“我媽媽是一個我可以學習的榜樣。她讓我腳踏實地,教我不僅要敢於夢想,還要通過實幹來使夢想成真。”

  蕭靖彤的母親也充滿了自豪:“當我們打開她的大學錄取信時,我和靖彤都哭了。她表現了她的成熟和智慧,不僅在學習方面,還有她待人處事的方式上。”

  蕭靖彤的文書

  In our house, English is not English. Not in the phonetic sense, like short a is for apple, but rather in the pronunciation – in our house, snake is snack. Words do not roll off our tongues correctly – yet I, who was pulled out of class to meet with language specialists, and my mother from Malaysia, who pronounces film as flim, understand each other perfectly.

  In our house, there is no difference between cast and cash, which was why at a church retreat, people made fun of me for “cashing out demons.” I did not realize the glaring difference between the two Englishes until my teacher corrected my pronunciations of hammock, ladle, and siphon. Classmates laughed because I pronounce accept as except, success as sussess. I was in the Creative Writing conservatory, and yet words failed me when I needed them most.

  Suddenly, understanding flower is flour wasn’t enough. I rejected the English that had never seemed broken before, a language that had raised me and taught me everything I knew. Everybody else’s parents spoke with accents smarting of Ph.D.s and university teaching positions. So why couldn’t mine?

  My mother spread her sunbaked hands and said, “This is where I came from,” spinning a tale with the English she had taught herself.

  When my mother moved from her village to a town in Malaysia, she had to learn a brand new language in middle school: English. In a time when humiliation was encouraged, my mother was defenseless against the cruel words spewing from the teacher, who criticized her paper in front of the class. When she began to cry, the class president stood up and said, “That’s enough.”

  “Be like that class president,” my mother said with tears in her eyes. The class president took her under her wing and patiently mended my mother’s strands of language. “She stood up for the weak and used her words to fight back.”

  We were both crying now. My mother asked me to teach her proper English so old white ladies at Target wouldn’t laugh at her pronunciation. It has not been easy. There is a measure of guilt when I sew her letters together. Long vowels, double consonants — I am still learning myself. Sometimes I let the brokenness slide to spare her pride but perhaps I have hurt her more to spare mine.

  As my mother’s vocabulary began to grow, I mended my own English. Through performing poetry in front of 3000 at my school’s Season Finale event, interviewing people from all walks of life, and writing stories for the stage, I stand against ignorance and become a voice for the homeless, the refugees, the ignored. With my words I fight against jeers pelted at an old Asian street performer on a New York subway. My mother’s eyes are reflected in underprivileged ESL children who have so many stories to tell but do not know how. I fill them with words as they take needle and thread to make a tapestry.

  In our house, there is beauty in the way we speak to each other. In our house, language is not broken but rather bursting with emotion. We have built a house out of words. There are friendly snakes in the cupboard and snacks in the tank. It is a crooked house. It is a little messy. But this is where we have made our home.

  (編輯:薩薩)分享此頁面

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