Question

急用A year after graduation, I was offered a position teaching a writing class.

A year after graduation, I was offered a position teaching a writing class.
Teaching was a profession I had never seriously considered, though several of my
stories had been published. I accepted the job without hesitation, as it would
allow me to wear a tie and go by the name of Mr. Davis. My father went by the
same name, and I liked to imagine people getting the two of us confused. “Wait a
minute<” someone might say, “are you talking about Mr. Davis the retired
man, or Mr. Davis the respectable scholar?”
The position was offered at
the last minute, and I was given two weeks to prepare, a per iod I spent
searching for briefcase (公文包) and standing before my full-length mirror,
repeating the words, “Hello, class. I’m Mr. Davis.” Sometimes I would give
myself an aggressive voice. Sometimes I would sound experienced. But when the
day eventually came, my nerves kicked in and the true Mr. Davis was there. I
sounded not like a thoughtful professor, but rather a 12-year-old boy.
I
arrived in the classroom with paper cards designed in the shape of maple leaves.
I had cut them myself out of orange construction paper. I saw nine students
along a long table. I handed out the cards, and the students wrote down their
names and fastened them to their breast pockets as I required.
“All right
then,” I said. “Okey, here we go.” Then I opened my briefcase and realized that
I had never thought beyond this moment. I had been thinking that the students
would be the first to talk, offering their thoughts and opinions on the events
of the day. I had imagined that I would sit at the edge of the desk, overlooking
a forests of hands. Every student would yell. “Calm down, you’ll all get your
turn. One at a time, one at a time!”
A terrible silence ruled the room,
and seeing no other opinions, I inspected the students to pull out their
notebooks and write a brief essay related to the theme of deep
disappointment.
不要电脑翻译

Answer 1

毕业一年后，我被写作课教学提供了一个位置。
教学是一门专业，我从来没有认真考虑过，虽然我的几个
故事已经出版。我毫不犹豫地接受了这份工作，因为它会
让我戴领带，戴维斯先生的名字。我的父亲
相同的名字，我喜欢想象得到我们两个人感到困惑。 “等一下
分钟< “有人可能会说， ”你说的是戴维斯先生退休
男人，还是戴维斯先生尊敬的学者？ “
   位置提供
最后一分钟，他们给我两个星期的准备，我度过了每一个IOD
寻找公文包（公文包） ，站在我穿衣镜前，
重复的话， “你好，类。我是戴维斯先生，“有时候我会给
自己一个积极的声音。有时我会听起来经历。但是，当
一天终于来了，我的神经踢真正的戴维斯先生在那里。我
听起来并不像一个深思熟虑的教授，而是一个12岁的男孩。
   我
抵达枫叶的形状设计在课堂上的纸卡。
我已经削减他们自己的橙色建筑纸。我看到了9个学生
沿着长桌。我掏出卡片，学生写下他们的
固定的名称和他们我需要他们的乳房里。
   “所有权利
那么， “我说。 “燃烧，在这里，我们去。 ”然后我打开我的公文包和实现
我从来没有想过超越这一刻。我一直以为学生
先谈，提供他们的想法和意见，对事件
的一天。我曾以为我会坐在桌子的边缘，俯瞰着
一个森林举手。每个学生就嚷嚷。 “冷静，你会得到你
转动。其中一次，每次一个！ “
   一个可怕的沉默统治房间，
看到没有其他意见，我检查学生拉出
笔记本电脑和相关的主题深，写一个简短的文章
失望。