Week3-賈伯斯史丹佛大學演說

'You've got to find what you love,' Jobs says

Stanford Report, June 14, 2005

This is a prepared text of the Commencement address delivered by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, on June 12, 2005.

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned Coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and sans serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But 10 years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backward 10 years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents' garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4,000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down — that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the world's first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure — these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960s, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors and Polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: It was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.

http://news.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.html

Structure of the Lead：

 WHO-Steve Jobs

 WHEN-June 14, 2005

 WHAT-Commencement Speech

 WHY-not given

 WHERE-In Stanford University

 HOW-not given

Keywords：

1. commencement：畢業典禮

2. calligraphy：書法

3. baton：指揮棒

4. devastating：破壞性的

5. entrepreneurs：企業家

6. incurable：不治之症

7. pancreas.：胰腺

8. idealistic：理想主義的

9. farewell：告別

10. diagnosis：診斷

Week2-翁山蘇姬

Myanmar Democracy Icon Finds Herself Assailed as Authoritari

AUG. 28, 2015

By THOMAS FULLER

YANGON, Myanmar — Framed photographs of Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, the Nobel laureate, cover the walls of his small living room, but U Myo Khin, a longtime democracy activist, has harsh words for the woman he idolized for years as a crusader against dictatorship.

“The goal is still democracy, but her behavior is authoritarian,” said Mr. Myo Khin, whose credentials in the democracy movement include 12 years as a political prisoner. “She is losing people like us who have been strong supporters for a very long time.”

It was taboo for many years among democracy activists in Myanmar to speak ill of Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi, who became a global icon of democracy and a symbol of resistance against oppression when Myanmar was ruled by a brutal military junta. Any criticism of The Lady, as she is known here, was seen as strengthening the hand of the generals.

But as landmark elections approach — a contest described by some as a once-in-a-generation opportunity for democratic forces — Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi is being openly criticized by activists, commentators and intellectuals. They accuse her of a my-way-or-the-highway approach to managing her party. They question her decision to ally herself with a now-marginalized former general. And they say she is missing an opportunity to build a grand coalition of democratic forces, including minority ethnic groups whose support may be crucial after the election.

“She has made enemies with the people she needs,” said U Sithu Aung Myint, a widely read columnist with a reputation for nonpartisan commentary. “She lacks strategic thinking, and she is not a clever politician.”

For a woman who sacrificed the better part of two decades fighting dictatorship, much of that time under house arrest, it is deeply paradoxical that a word increasingly used to describe her is authoritarian, even among her closest allies in her party, the National League for Democracy.

Asked what he thought of the term, U Nyan Win, the party’s spokesman, did not hesitate.

“I agree,” he said.

But he insisted that her top-down handling of party affairs did not diminish her legacy and leadership in pushing for democratic change.

Burmese political culture has long featured hierarchical decision-making, he said, and her party is no exception. He painted a picture of Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi, who turned 70 in June, as overworked, struggling to delegate power and not always getting accurate information about the day-to-day decisions within the party.

Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi declined requests to be interviewed for this article.

Her party came under its heaviest criticism in recent months during the selection process of candidates for the Nov. 8 election. Some of the leading lights of the democracy movement, former political prisoners known as the 88 Generation, were largely passed over. The party’s leadership also overruled the recommendations and nominations of many local chapters, putting in place their own candidates for the election. Those decisions spawned a rare public display of anger and defections. A number of defiant members of the party were expelled.

As the controversy grew, Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi’s response came across to some as imperious and condescending.

“The responsibility of the people is simply to vote for the party, not the name of the candidate,” she was quoted as saying by Radio Free Asia.

“The N.L.D. is a political party, and we have rules,” she said. “If you can’t follow these rules, you can’t work for the N.L.D.”

The party also ordered candidates not to speak with the media, saying it could jeopardize their chances during the vetting process by the election commission. Critics saw it as a gag order.

At a time when the party needs unity more than ever, stalwarts like Mr. Myo Khin, the longtime democracy activist, are angry. His involvement in the movement began 27 years ago when a fellow proponent of democracy was shot by the military and died in his arms.

When the party leadership passed him over as the candidate in his home district in Yangon, he quit the party and signed up to run as an independent.

Another longtime party activist in an adjoining district, Daw Khin Phone Wai, 44, also left the party and is running as an independent. She still admires Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi but says she worries that she is increasingly seen as detached from the people.

“She has knowledge about international things, and she speaks foreign languages,” Ms. Khin Phone Wai said. “But she cannot relate to ordinary people. People are facing hardship every day, and she can’t feel their needs. She’s not in touch with the people at the bottom.”

Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi’s supporters overseas have been dismayed by her silence and inaction over the plight of the Rohingya, a Muslim minority who are being excluded from voting. But in Myanmar, in a measure of the difficulties of pleasing her admirers, Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi faces the opposite problem: She is portrayed by her enemies as too friendly to Muslims, a major political liability in a country with strong anti-Muslim sentiment.

Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi, the daughter of Myanmar’s independence hero, Aung San, still has what is probably the most recognizable name and face in the country, and the mention of her often elicits automatic admiration. A key question debated among political analysts is whether complaints about her management style have trickled down to voters.

Analysts believe that Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi will continue to benefit from the popular hatred of the military, which built up over decades of misrule. But gauging her popularity has proved difficult. In a recent opinion poll, half of respondents refused to disclose whom they would vote for.

U Yan Myo Thein, a political analyst, said that the democracy movement has strong support in cities and towns but that winning in rural areas, which make up 70 percent of the elected seats in Parliament, will be more challenging.

The freedoms introduced by the military-backed government of President Thein Sein, including the ending of direct media censorship, have lifted a once palpable sense of fear in the cities. But in rural areas the military and their proxies still retain significant control.

“The level of fear for the authorities is very high in the village areas,” Mr. Yan Myo Thein said.

Under the current system the deck is stacked against the democracy movement: The country’s Constitution, written by the military junta before it handed over power to a quasi-civilian government in 2011, allocates one quarter of the seats in Parliament to the military. This means democratic forces, if they do not ally themselves with the army, must gain two-thirds of the elected seats to have a simple majority. Around 40 percent of the seats are in minority ethnic areas, which tend to back their own parties, and democracy activists lament that Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi has not formed closer alliances with the groups.

The military’s top general chooses the ministers of home affairs, defense and border security, no matter who wins the election.

Moreover, Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi is barred from the presidency by a clause in the Constitution that disallows anyone with a foreign spouse or children from becoming president, a rule that some say was written with her in mind. Her husband, who died in 1999, was a British citizen, and so are their two sons.

Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi’s critics acknowledge the uneven playing field but say she has made a bad situation worse by antagonizing the military. Her alliance with Thura Shwe Mann, a former general in the junta who leads one faction of the military establishment but is widely disliked by other factions, rattled the military’s top brass. Earlier this month Mr. Shwe Mann was purged as the head of the Union Solidarity and Development Party by the president and his backers in the military.

Daw Nyo Nyo Thin, an independent member of the Yangon regional Parliament, does not trust the military, but says Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi should be courting them because the military brass has veto power over major changes to the Constitution that democratic forces desire.

“She must get on well with the military,” Ms. Nyo Nyo Thin said. “Without the military in agreement we can never amend the Constitution.”

Ms. Nyo Nyo Thin predicts a messy election followed by months of horse trading among ethnic groups, democratic forces and the military.

She says she has been “confused” by Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi’s decisions in recent months.

Is the Nobel laureate authoritarian?

“We have many stories,” Ms. Nyo Nyo Thin said. “But this is not the time to speak out.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/08/29/world/asia/myanmar-democracy-icon-finds-herself-assailed-as-authoritarian.html?rref=collection%2Ftimestopic%2FAung%20San%20Suu%20Kyi%2C%20Daw&action=click&contentCollection=timestopics&region=stream&module=stream_unit&version=latest&contentPlacement=8&pgtype=collection&_r=0

Structure of the Lead：

 WHO-Aung San Suu Kyi

 WHEN-2015

 WHAT-Aung San Suu Kyi 's story

 WHY-She confronted the unfair treatment and became a  Nobel laureate.

 WHERE-Myanmar

 HOW-not given

Keywords：

1. dictatorship：獨裁

2. authoritarian：獨裁主義(者)

3. junta：軍政府

4. intellectuals：知識份子

5. strategic：戰略

6. diminish：減少；精簡

7. hierarchical：階級式

8. nominations：提名

9. sentiment：情緒；感情

10. antagonizing：對抗

Week1-馬拉拉

'Malala of Syria': The inspiring story of one girl's fight to educate refugees

August 20, 2015

By Nick Thompson and Jonathan Hawkins, CNN

It's 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday in this part of the vast, rust-colored expanse of the Jordanian desert, and Mazoun Almellehan doesn't have time to think about all the things she's lost. She's thinking about what comes next.

She's studying English, she says, and taking a computer course. Class is out for the summer, but she's hoping to get ahold of next year's curriculum and books to get a head start on next year.

Mazoun's favorite subject -- although one senses she thoroughly enjoys them all -- is science. "When we learn about science, we learn more about the world around us," she announces with a smile, before almost forgetting her other favorite subject: "Oh, and English of course!"

It is rare to meet a 16-year-old girl with such pure, unbridled enthusiasm for life and the opportunities that lie ahead. It is rarer still to meet such a girl in a desolate refugee camp 62 miles from the Syrian border.

Mazoun left everything behind and fled with her parents and three younger siblings to Jordan when Syria's civil war began to close in on their village in Daraa in 2013.

The family spent a year in Jordan's crowded, often chaotic Zaatari refugee camp, before moving to the quieter, better equipped camp in Azraq just over a year ago.

Today Mazoun's family shares a dim 250 square-foot galvanized steel box in this purpose-built camp, where around 60 displaced people arrive every day.

But that's not what Mazoun is focused on today. Perched on the edge of a desk in her makeshift classroom at Azraq, she wonders how many of her classmates will be rejoining her when school is back in session in September.

Early marriage has soared amongst Syrian refugees in Jordan in the past three years, rising from 18% in 2012 to roughly a third of all marriages involving a Syrian refugee in 2014, according to UNICEF.

And as Syria's long, brutal civil war grinds on with no end in sight, desperate displaced Syrians are increasingly seeing early marriage as a way to secure the social and financial future of their daughters.

"If you're a parent and you see an opportunity for your child that may take care of them financially, it's an extremely difficult decision," says UNICEF field officer Stephen Allen. "And it's not a choice you would normally make, but some parents are choosing to go that route."

The Malala of Syria

Mazoun thinks they're making a big mistake. For two years she has been going door to door in the camps, waging a one-girl campaign to convince parents to keep their daughters in school instead of pressuring them into wedlock.

"Many families they think that if they get their daughters at a young early age, they'll be protected. They don't know that something that might go wrong -- and if the marriage fails, the daughter will be vulnerable."

"Education is very important because it's the shield we can use to protect ourselves in life. It's our method to solve our problems," she says. "If we don't have education, we can't defend ourselves."

Mazoun has been called the "Malala of Syria" for her crusade to keep girls in school, a reference to the teenage Pakistani education activist who survived a Taliban attack on her school bus in 2012.

In February 2014, Malala Yousafzai visited Mazoun in Zaatari. And Mazoun flew to Oslo to see Yousafzai pick up the Nobel Peace Prize in December.

Mazoun's eyes light up as she describes her friendship with the world's most famous education activist.

"I'm so proud to be called the 'Malala of Syria,'" she says. "Malala's a very dedicated, strong person who faced huge difficulties in her life trying to promote education. So that gives me a huge motivation to do more."

But Yousafzai seems equally impressed with Mazoun. "When I went to her camp it was great meeting her," she recalled in a UNHCR YouTube interview last year. "She also has great dreams for her country. She wants her country to be peaceful, she wants to see peace in every corner of Syria. "

The bottom of the barrel

Over the past four years Jordan says it has opened its doors to 1.4 million Syrian people displaced by the civil war engulfing the country, although only 630,000 are registered with the U.N. refugee agency.

Education is just one of the many problems facing these Syrians, and observers say the conditions are getting bleaker by the day.

Last week, Jordan announced it had received just 12% of the $1.9 billion it says it needs to support the Syrians it has taken in.

"The international community can count on Jordan to continue doing its part," said Jordanian Planning Minister Imad Fakhoury. "But we cannot be left alone in this effort."

Earlier this year, budget shortfalls forced the World Food Program to cut food aid to the 80% of Syrian refugees living outside the camps in Jordan.

Funding was left intact for the camps, but UNICEF says everyone has had to tighten their belts.

"Things are worse now than they were last year inside the camps. We can maintain standard services here, but people's supplementary resources are more stretched," Stephen Allen says. "Four years in, they're at the bottom of the barrel."

"They're spending their savings, they've sold off some of their assets, and whatever support they had coming in from relatives has now dried up."

A place of refuge

Fifty-five percent of the estimated 14,000 people living in Azraq are children. One of the main challenges is finding a productive way for them to spend their days.

In a playground down the road from the school, the familiar sound of children rocking on swings, playing basketball and horsing around rings out across the grounds.

This Makani -- "my space" in Arabic -- is a kid-friendly refuge from the daily stresses of camp life, according to Mohammed Abulawi, program manager for the International Medical Corps in Azraq.

"These children suffered on their journey to the border," Abulawi says. "Many of them have post-traumatic stress syndrome -- they've lost their friends, their families, and some of them just want to be alone."

"We're trying to build a bond between children and improve their coping skills. We want this to be a place where kids can express the emotions and the feelings that they've kept inside for a long time."

Like many of the people in this camp, Hamman, a quiet, skinny 12-year-old boy, came from Daraa.

"I miss swimming the most," he says softly. "I miss everything in Syria."

Amid the din of children of playtime at the Makani, another child, this one wearing a dirty black baseball cap, sits in silence reading a book.

"It's the story of the mouse," Faisal, 15, explains. "It's about a small mouse who finds out that his family has been eaten by a big cat."

Faisal has been in Azraq for six months. He's from Ghouta, the Damascus suburb where a sarin gas attack killed hundreds of people -- many of them children -- in the summer of 2013, according to the U.N.

"Mostly I miss my village," he says. "Our house is there, all of my friends are there."

Faisal doesn't go to formal school in the camp, instead preferring to attend informal lessons at the Makani. When he grows up, he wants to be an English teacher.

A place fit for hyenas

Of the 220,000 school age Syrian children in Jordan registered with UNHCR -- the actual figure is almost certainly much higher -- 130,000 of them are enrolled in formal education. That leaves 90,000 who are not.

Mazoun Almellehan takes us to visit one of these children. For the past year Sharouk, 15, has lived with her mother and two siblings in a white housing container not far from the playground.

Their father stayed behind in Syria. Manahel, Sharouk's mother, says she can only afford enough phone credit to call her husband once a month.

Abdullah, Sharouk's 13-year-old brother, is the stand-in father figure for the family. He doesn't go to school, and forbade her from going too. This suits Sharouk just fine -- she doesn't like to leave the house anyway.

Manahel says she wants her children to go to school, and hopes they'll have a better life in the future, though it's difficult for her to envision that right now.

"It's not possible here," she says. "What can we say about Azraq? It's a piece of desert -- no one lives in a place like this, not even hyenas."

But Mazoun has been visiting the family lately, and two weeks ago she managed to convince Sharouk -- and her brother -- that she needs to go back to class in September.

"Mazoun explained how education is very important for our future," Sharouk says quietly. "I did know it (before), but she convinced me even more."

Abdullah, on the other hand, is going to take more convincing. "I will speak to him more," Mazoun says. "And I will keep speaking to him and his sister until they both go to school."

One eye on the future

Last Saturday, on World Refugee Day, UNHCR chief António Guterres announced that nearly 60 million people had fled their homes in 2014 -- the highest figure since records began.

But even in the face of such grim news, Mazoun strikes a more confident tone.

"Nobody knows what's going to happen in the future, but we should always have hope, we should always be optimistic," she says. "We try to change the future to make it fit for our lives, that's the only thing we can do."

And what does the future hold for Mazoun?

"I want to be a journalist," she says with a grin. "It's a very beautiful job, in my opinion."

http://edition.cnn.com/2015/06/26/middleeast/jordan-malala-of-syria/index.html

Structure of the Lead：

 WHO-Malala

 WHEN-2014

 WHAT-Malala's inspiring story

 WHY-She wanted to fight the right for female's education

 WHERE-Syria

 HOW-not given

Keywords：

1. curriculum：課程

2. unbridled：恣意的

3. brutal：殘酷的

4. vulnerable：弱勢的

5. crusade：聖戰；運動

6. engulf：吞噬

7. supplementary：補充；補充的

8. hyena：鬣狗

9. envision：想像；預想

10. optimistic：樂觀的