[Prompt: What you do in the classroom defines only a part of who you are. How do you spend your time when you are not in class?]

At my childhood home in Macau, frames of Chinese brush calligraphy and paintings were everywhere. As a kid, I did not care much about those “hanging things.” My family only talked about their value, because artists of posthumous fame created them. Since my grandparents, my parents and their friends just regarded them as decorations and even displays of wealth, I did not learn to appreciate them as art until I was fourteen.

In my Chinese primary school, Chinese calligraphy was an academic subject. I had no interest in it, because it was a messy art. I was always watching out for the ink -- if I put too much on a brush, the ink would drip, and the whole piece would be smeared. I always wondered, “Why do people still want to write with those clumsy brushes?” It took me a long time to learn how to handle that “clumsy” brush correctly. The teacher often told us, “You should be able to hold an egg in your hand while you’re holding the brush, ” yet in the first year, I learned only how to make dots, because the brush kept slipping.

Despite my initial indifference toward this fading art, I did learn how to write well, using both pen and brush. Through practicing Chinese calligraphy, I learned how to structure a Chinese word, which piqued my interest. For example, the Chinese character of “horse” actually looks like a horse. When I was in sixth grade, my teacher nominated me for an annual Chinese calligraphy competition. My family was elated, because writing well in Chinese calligraphy was a sign of being a scholar. They so desperately wanted me to win that they hired a calligraphy teacher to teach me to write the hardest form of calligraphy. In three months, I only learned how to imitate my teacher’s writing, but soon I would be taught an unexpected lesson: at the competition, I blanked out after being given a poem that I had never practiced before. I could not write a word of my own style. I lost. And I cried. I felt I disgraced my school, my family, my calligraphy teacher, and most of all, myself.

After the competition, my calligraphy teacher said to me, “You have no passion, no respect, no will in writing Chinese calligraphy. That’s why you lost. Girl, let us start over. Let me teach you what Chinese calligraphy really means.” And so I began to learn the basics. After first learning how to hold a brush properly, in a few months I was able to write a full page of words in my own style. I developed a new attitude and a passion. I began to understand that it took patience, determination and a will to write well. The harmony between each line, each word and even each stroke is crucial in a piece. The wrong placement or even the inadequate use of force will ruin a piece; this adds to my fascination. The foundation of writing a perfect piece of calligraphy is thinking and planning. Through Chinese calligraphy, I found my philosophy of life: to plan before I act. The goal I now plan to achieve is to promote and preserve calligraphy as an art, and as an approach to life.

點評：

文章通過作者自己從對書法沒有什么認(rèn)識到被動的學(xué)習(xí)，然后比賽失敗之后有了新的認(rèn)識最后把這門藝術(shù)轉(zhuǎn)化為自己的興趣地過程進(jìn)行了描述。生動的展現(xiàn)了自己生活的一個側(cè)面，從很普通的小事情入手，向讀者展現(xiàn)自己興趣的同時明確的表達(dá)出自己具有很強的學(xué)習(xí)能力以及毅力（比如文章的最后一段，就是為了體現(xiàn)出申請者具有的毅力）。

整篇文章都是緊扣題目要求，展現(xiàn)自己的課外生活，表達(dá)出了自己在課外生活中的優(yōu)點的時候又體現(xiàn)出了自身的能力。文章娓娓道來，整個故事都可以作為自己具有這些優(yōu)點的證據(jù)。這種以小見大的寫作手法正符合了這類文章的寫作方式。

其實這類要求對申請者課余生活進(jìn)行描述類的ESSAY就是為了考察申請者在學(xué)習(xí)之外還能具有什么樣的能力，所以在寫得時候不能僅僅是進(jìn)行一般性的描述，而是要在進(jìn)行講述的同時向閱讀者展現(xiàn)自己的優(yōu)勢，并且一定要結(jié)合具體的事例，使自己的話具有較強的說服力。這樣才是這種ESSAY的正確協(xié)作方式。

反觀文章，可以說是完全符合這種要求，再加上文字的運用得當(dāng)，可以說是一篇很不錯的ESSAY。

譯文：

［你在教室里的活動只是體現(xiàn)了你真實個體的一部分，那么你的課余時間又是怎么過的呢？］

中國書法

小時候在家鄉(xiāng)澳門，到處都能看到中國書畫的表框。當(dāng)時只是個小孩子，所以我根本不會去關(guān)心這些家里掛著的東西。我的家人只會談?wù)摰剿鼈兊膬r值，因為一些作品是藝術(shù)家們的絕筆。由于我的祖輩父輩只是將這些書畫作為裝飾品有時做為一種財富的象征，所以十四歲之前，我不懂得將它們作為一種藝術(shù)來欣賞。

在中國上小學(xué)時，書法被單獨的設(shè)置為一門課?？晌覍λ鼪]有一點興趣，因為書法真是一門麻煩的藝術(shù)。我得小心用墨，如果沾多了它會自己滴下來，那么整張紙就被毀了。我一直搞不懂，為什么人們到現(xiàn)在還要使用這種笨重的毛筆來寫字。我花了好久來學(xué)習(xí)怎樣正角握住這個“大刷子”。老師經(jīng)常和我們說：“你們的受要在握筆的同時握住一顆雞蛋。”所以在第一年里，我盡學(xué)著寫“點”了，因為筆總是要滑下來。

盡管我開始對這門藝術(shù)很冷漠，但是我最終還是學(xué)會了怎樣把書法字寫好，不管用鋼筆還是毛筆。在學(xué)書法的過程中我學(xué)到了漢字的構(gòu)造，我引起了我及大的興趣。比如，漢字里的“馬”字，就像及了一匹馬。在我六年級的時候，我的老師提名我參加年度書法競賽。我得家人都很高興，因為寫一手好字就意味著今后可能會一名學(xué)者。他們特別希望我能贏得比賽，所以幫我請了書法老師，負(fù)責(zé)教我寫一些很難的書法字。三個月里，我只學(xué)會了臨摹老師寫的字，可不久我就上了意想不到的一節(jié)課：比賽過程中，我抽到的是一首我從來沒有練過的詩，我被淘汰出局了。沒有一個字我可以寫出自己的風(fēng)格。我失敗了?？蘖恕Ｎ矣X得我給學(xué)校丟臉了，給我的家人丟臉了，我的書法老師，最重要的是我覺得我讓自己蒙羞了。

比賽之后，我的書法老師告訴我:“你沒有熱情、沒有敬意、沒有寫的欲望，這就是你為什么會輸?shù)脑?。孩子，讓我們重新開始。我來教你中國書法的真正意義所在?！庇谑俏议_始了基礎(chǔ)的學(xué)習(xí)。學(xué)習(xí)了怎樣握筆之，幾個月內(nèi)我就可以寫出幾頁擁有我自己風(fēng)格的字了。我有了全新的態(tài)度和熱情，我明白了把字寫好，需要耐心、決心以及意志力才行。行與行、字與字，甚至每一筆之間的結(jié)構(gòu)都有一個很好的安排。筆畫的位置或者用力方面的一點差錯就會毀了整頁的字，這些讓我對書法更加著迷。寫好書法的前提就是思考、計劃。通過中國書法，我學(xué)到了生活中要先斟酌再行事的哲理。我現(xiàn)在計劃達(dá)到的目標(biāo)就是將書法作為一種藝術(shù)來推廣和保護(hù)，同時也將書法作為我生活的一個指南與方式。