Now go on with your work. You have better things to do than to know another person’s life.

It’s like he might talk to me or he might talk to a patient, who may be more depressed but still tries his best to remember that his lover has passed away.
Every time I go to the attic and see the information put there, I still have a strong impulse to type a pile of folders to see what might be in them. Not long ago, I turned over a transcript of my father’s freshman year at Harvard. He got a C in English philosophy, but to my surprise, his first grade was D, but he managed to get an A in the second grade. This is a transcript of the spring of 1994. I don’t know if I am interested in these critical details. Perhaps it is because I haven’t prepared for it yet.
Schacter gave a description of the reconstruction of memory. People often recognize that memory can be retrieved according to the time sample if the snapshots in the family album are properly preserved. But now we know that we can’t preserve past experiences like cameras. Our memory works in a different way. We will take the key elements of those experiences and then re-create or reconstruct them instead of simply restoring them. We will add feelings and beliefs to the reconstruction process, and even get some cognition after that. In other words, we will learn that paragraph. After the experience happens, the emotion is acquired or the cognition is biased. See the seven deadly sins of memory, brain forgetting memories, hesevensinfmeryhwhemindfrgesandreebers, Daniel schacter, new york Horton, Mifflin, harcourt, Daniel schacter, Donna Rose, Addis, co-authored the article "Constructing Memory Cognitive Neurology", which was published. In the May 7 issue of Philsphiallansainsfheryalsiergiebilgies, a journal of biology in the Royal Society of Philosophers.
Aurelia, a Victorian woman, also recorded the memory of accompanying her mother to have dinner with my parents in a memo on June 1, 1999. He said that he met Victoria that night, and then he met her husband and daughter in the American Drama Troupe of Fantasy Circus. After a long talk with Una, Aurelia had already become an outstanding star by herself and often toured around the world. A one-man show based on visual illusions was created by Victoria, Aurelia, which was obviously full of amazing visual enjoyment. See also the notes in Chapter 9.
3 physically handicapped or handicapped children.
ppp
Last 15 years
I wrote this memoir from September of 8, that is, one month after my father died, and I wrote it for two quarters until the summer of 9.
At that time, I put the manuscript aside and continued to do those things in most of my career, visiting public schools, interviewing teachers, and giving speeches to children in urban slums. It was a long time before I was ready to turn over this manuscript again.
Reading this story about my parents again today and remembering them in this way after their death, I don’t have much to modify, but I can add a few important things after such a long time.
I lost my parents in such a short time, and I am obsessed with my father’s last year. I really can’t muster up the courage to say anything more in such a tense situation. I used to be out of date, and I intentionally hurt my father. He occasionally made me sad, but I don’t want to say anything about it. I don’t want to think of that moment again.
In fact, the tension between us is not always so small or easy to dissipate, and we are also divided, most of which are related to my career. On some occasions, this difference will almost turn into confrontation. At this time, his bossy posture can suppress me to some extent
From my early observation of my father’s influence on other people’s lives, I’m sure his influence on my state of mind is also a huge example. I remember when I was nine years old, he took me to the Massachusetts General Hospital to watch his colleague and one of his patients undergo neurosurgery. I remember that I was with him at a balcony-like place in the industrial area. The doctor removed a brain tumor from the patient while talking with my father.
Father, the doctor, the micro microphone, our local operating table is separated by a glass wall. My father’s judgment and guidance to the doctor seems to determine to some extent whether his patient can survive the operation intact. I think this process will not make my children feel that the field of neurosurgery is full of charm like that, and it has left a deep and lasting impression on me, which makes my father intuitively feel that the patient’s brain waves are returned to our side. Those who wear white gloves are cautious and have broken fingers are amazed. I think it is only the average person who can have this power.
I don’t know if my father can guess how much this incident has affected me, but I know that other similar experiences in the past few years have made me feel a sense of reverence for my father. I was more eager for his approval than other children when I entered my teens, but I soon found that it was not easy to get his appreciation.
For example, in the first year of Harvard University, the students ranked first according to their grades. My roommate ranked first in the class. Although my grades were good, my father still ranked lower than him. Perhaps it was just a joke to others, but I didn’t recognize the truth. I tried very hard to forget that sentence because I really felt his disappointment. Many Harvard students were the first in my class when I was in middle school. My father hoped that I could continue to maintain this momentum after I entered the university. He scolded many parents for having unrealistic and unhealthy expectations for their children, but it was really legal to force me to compete bravely under the banner of my kindness.
In my junior year, I spent two years following the poet archibald mcleish. I am very grateful to mcleish. I wrote a story about an ambitious father who expected too much from his son in a clumsy novel form. After reading this story, mcleish told me that I should relax and allow myself to have some fun when I was a freshman. After that, I was no longer influenced by my father’s pressure in most cases. After two Radcliffe students in our class found out that I was crazy about one of them, mcleish even encouraged me to pursue it bravely.
However, I still tried my best. In the spring of my junior year, I joined the American honor society with eight representatives. One of them guided us to join a dinner party. As required, we had to choose a representative to be the first ceremonial officer of our class at the graduation ceremony one year later. My friend named jared Diamond was sitting next to me at that time, and we have been friends since then. I think jared is the smartest boy I know so far. He is humble and charming, and he has a good sense of humor. I think this representative should be him.
I also invited my father to attend this dinner. After seeing my name jared, he was very disappointed. I have forgotten whether it was jared who was finally elected as the first ceremonial officer or other members of the team. But I clearly remember that my father was very unhappy. When I sent him to the car after the dinner, he told me that I would be very proud if it was you. I remember that I was with him at a corner of Aoshan Street, a block away from Harvard Square. When he knocked on the car door, he still looked glum and looked at his car leaving me. I really regretted inviting him.
Although my father’s ambition on me has been reduced by a few minutes, this reduction has continued for a short time. When I was a senior, I won the Oxford Grand Rhodes Prize. I always believed that I could be selected by relying on mcleish’s strength and generously concluding the Oxford University curriculum. The tutor who assigned me told me that she was not allowed to concentrate on living in modern Britain, which made me even more disappointed. Therefore, I wanted to write a paper on the living poet wystan Hugh Auden, the Irish poet William Butler Ye Zhi. Then the class consciousness in both the undergraduate and graduate circles was much stronger than that in Harvard.
I went to Paris during the winter vacation, where I met some older families, so I decided to stay there. At that time, William Stylen, his friend and novelist James Jones were also in Paris. I showed myself to these new tutors and helped them sell one of the stories to a European magazine. This kind of meager income earned me a living that autumn.
Although mcleish helped me get the bonus for going to Oxford, I was not at all unhappy when I heard that I decided to give up my career there. On the contrary, my father said that I was all wet. He wrote several terrible warning letters saying that he hoped I could return to England immediately and continue my career with the bonus before it was too late.
For my peers, he encouraged them not to be afraid of interrupting their careers, and told them not to venture into the outside world as much as possible to have a look around. He defended their desire for independence without fear that it might cause him to do the same thing to the patient I went to before. However, as for those people, his practice was obviously not suitable for his own son. In a reply expressing his disapproval, I realized that when he gave up Harvard Court for himself, he hesitated to look for the future direction, and he made a similar decision before becoming a doctor, and he still did so after becoming a doctor. He said in his reply that my previous experience expressed resistance, although it was interesting, but he could not
I’m not a Rhodes prize winner. He said bluntly that you and I can’t be compared. I don’t think you have any idea what kind of risks you are taking.
He said that my decision annoyed him quite a lot.
After returning to Boston, I told him that I planned to go back to Harvard University to continue my doctoral studies under the guidance of former teachers, which greatly relieved him. However, when the situation became more and more chaotic with the upsurge of the civil movement, I suddenly changed my mind and decided to teach at a primary school in the black area of Roxbury, which made my father anxious again. Although he didn’t publicly object, he told his mother that my sudden decision, which seemed to have not been carefully thought out, worried him.
When he became more and more aware that this temporary decision, which he regarded as impulsive, turned out to be my final choice of career, he reconsidered whether to continue to oppose me. After several years, when he found that this choice was not temporary for me, he led me back to writing and finally wrote that I was teaching those children. He was very, then he finally seemed to be less worried about me.
Fortunately, my father highly praised Robert Coles, a social critic and cardiologist, who wrote a great review for this in new york Times. My father told me that it made him feel gratified. After I won the National Picture Award the next spring, he took me to the Harvard Club for dinner. On the whole, he was very happy and even gave in, saying that he finally believed that it was a wrong decision to reserve my opinion on my original intention to be a teacher.
However, I still can’t forget his cold and ominous eyes when I ventured into Roxbury for the first time, although he resisted telling me that he was worried that I would not be able to stand and regret making such a decision. In that year, I could hear that warning in his voice almost every conversation and I couldn’t shake it.
It was not until five years later, that is, in the 1970s, that I found that I was still out of my father’s control. At this time, I joined in the collapse of the Chinese people’s movement, because the most active leaders in the movement either died of assassination or lost their energy because of old age, and those who were left became victims of my personal destruction. When I saw more and more familiar activists, younger leaders, especially those whose motives were deeply rooted in their ideology, gave up their thoughts from the big age, which made me feel a little uneasy. My father was not alive, and the clinicians were keenly aware of my anxiety.
My belief remains unchanged. I joined the people’s movement not because of ideology, so I think that if I quit the competition, I might escape. At that time, our generation should bear some kind of responsibility and get an intuitive experience from educating children. Seeing that their living environment is getting poorer and poorer has deepened my feeling, so the ideological environment has changed rapidly. The split of left-wing groups has hardly affected my work or writing. However, it is becoming more and more obvious that many students are rapidly losing their positive attitude in the big encounter, and some of them are not. There are more movements that can continue to mobilize their idealistic spirit. It seems that they can’t find a sense of urgency and enthusiasm for their beliefs and specific measures. The loss of enthusiasm is bound to greatly reduce their courage to fight.
In the next year or two, my father found that the changes in the surrounding environment did not make me feel a little uneasy, but also made me unwilling to adapt to these political realities. I think he finally decided that it was time to wake me up, so one night after we sat down, he immediately went straight to the point.
I’ve been watching you for the past few years. He said that if you want to know what I’m thinking, I’ll tell you what I think. You still feel like a Harvard-educated Guevara. But your soldiers in blue jeans have returned to the business school. They are already full of wages and mortgages. Where is the revolutionary shadow? I think I am your father who knows you better than yourself. I just said this to you. I hope you can think about it.
At that time, I was definitely not a revolution by standards. Since the end of the 1960 s, I have known several activists who became interested in some extremely non-sexual violence activities, which mostly made my father more worried. A meteorological terrorist organization named Di was widely noticed by the media, and a psychiatrist’s father believed that they were a group of people who ended up living in a fantasy world, and they could achieve their goals and completely ignore them, causing harm.
He said that he finally felt at ease after I questioned other similar organizations of the organization, but I think he was still worried. Although he was not worried about my being involved in any extremely destructive or non-sexual activities, he was worried that my article was too inflammatory. He believed that to some extent, this would lead to my marginalization, which would not damage my potential influence, and might also endanger my ability to make a living by living at home.
I think if my father didn’t know so much about people in turmoil, he would usually do these things, which would aggravate the instability of his life, and I might be able to ease his anxiety more easily as before. However, this time I knew that my father was right. In the following years, I found myself really grateful for his enlightening good advice, which I think made me understand my situation more truly.
In the early 1980s, Ronald Reagan was elected president, and then during Nixon’s administration, the political pattern was vengeful. This faction did not include extreme conservatism, and some of them were extremely clever and more radical than before. After separatism, the two groups seemed to have been afraid of their own thoughts and despised those who were still persistent. At this time, I experienced the second provincial crisis and talked to my father about it again, but this time I took the initiative to start the conversation.
One day in 1983, I made a writing plan with my manuscript agent and described it to him. I wrote this plan around the exhibitions of adults I had seen in poverty-stricken areas. Most of them were illiterate, and they were educated before they entered their own kindergartens or public schools. So I merged with some cultural groups to write a similar war plan. I planned to create a project that could educate these parents and their daughters at the same time. Later, the plan was absorbed by the California Library System, so I planned to write this plan, which will lay the foundation for this cause, but its elaboration will be much deeper.
However, he found that the plan was mainly exhibited in urban slums, and I will continue to discuss the impact of racial injustice, so he thought that businessmen would not be too interested in it
Times have changed, and interest in this kind of reading is rapidly disappearing. If I were you, I would look ahead and try to think of something new.
I was shocked by his opinion, but his words have changed in that era, which makes me afraid that he may know the market prospect better than I do, which greatly shakes my confidence and makes me worry about whether those people will quit the market and become unsalable in the warehouse.
At this moment, many of my left-wing friends who have seen through political trends are trying their best to keep their progressive position in the art circle, especially in Dali. When I talked to my father about this, his first reaction was that it might not be a bad thing if I could think so.
I think he knew that I had been invited to the surgery circle in the past, but he casually turned it down. However, shortly after our conversation, I got another invitation that really attracted me. It was sent by a relatively independent surgery institution in New England. The field of the position crossed the boundaries of a single department. I went there to give a lecture shortly after the meeting, and I felt suddenly relaxed. I thought that if I told my father the news, he might be very happy, so I drove straight to Boston to share the good news.
However, when I arrived at the apartment to tell my father about it, I was ambivalent. On the one hand, this invitation was sent by a very good man. I know that he didn’t expect and didn’t want me to give up my beliefs, so at first glance, the atmosphere might be that I need a working environment.
This old organization needs some changes, he said. To be honest, I think you might be able to help me.
On the other hand, because I have seen the classes in which I might teach, I told my father that it would not make me feel very comfortable to teach those lucky young people in my future teaching career instead of the children I taught in previous years.
My father hesitated for a moment to think about the response. He looked at me thoughtfully with his hands clasped. I remember him teaching a boy in Roxbury. I think he should remember that unfortunate boy. His name was Stephen. He didn’t often speak in class and he had to be whipped with a bamboo whip regularly. In 1965, in the black school in the city, people still accepted the punishment of whipping children with vinegar and bamboo. After he entered adolescence, he became a resentful and vengeful teenager. When he was imprisoned for a brutal crime, my father used to.