Good evening, dear friends. This is my CC1 speech.
Not long ago, a friend at work told me “you are just like your name”. “Really?” I asked, “You also think I am a girl with wisdom, just like my name?” “No, I mean girls named Sophie tend to be talkative, you are not an exception.” Wow, how could she be so blunt! Last time on this stage we know Sophie is an English teacher, she babysits middle school kids, she loves her job, she wants to be herself and she is talkative. Tonight I am goanna talk more about myself. They are about my memories.
My happiest memory involved growing up with my three cousins at my grandma’s.
Like the majority of the post-90s, I am the only childof my family. But I have three cousins, and they are all boys. Oh, boys. We all know three women make a drama. But there is also a saying that even dogs hate boys of seven or eight years’ old. Now we got four! Growing with three naughty brothers just explains why I acted like a boy during my entire childhood and teenage years. I used to bully girls lived in the same court yard, intimidated them with big, ugly worms, bugs and other weird stuffs. Don’t ask where such unusual toys come from. Only the younger sister got such presents. I enjoyed that time. Not only did I act like a boy, my brothers also taught me to think like a boy, they asked me never to cry nor give concessions like a coward; they taught me tricks and tactics to win my peers in games; they encouraged me to make myself stronger and even told me which kind of boys are dependable.
My most unforgettable memory was studying in high school.
There I found friends to confide with, I got classmates who were willing to help me. For quite some time, in breaks, I didn’t play nor relax, and had to ask my classmates to explain me what the math teacher had taught once more. Don’t ask me why. I just couldn’t get his point during the past 40 minutes. Until one day, I finally woke up and didn’t need to ask questions. And my classmates asked “Don’t you need me anymore?” Such an experience made me feel I am the luckiest dog in the world. I was being helped all the time, and now I just cannot wait to help others. Now I still miss my high school time; I miss the period with little conflicts of interests but memory of being helped byothers.
My proudest memory was being an English-major incollege.
As a teacher I firmly believe an overwhelming majorityof kids could be taught well, and even the so-called stupid kids could be enlightened, as long as the kid is led or motivated in a proper way. Don’t ask me why, because I used to one of those stupid kids. There was a word “encyclopedia”on the word list; I had to keep repeating it all the way from home to school. Then, it couldn’t be forgotten forever. Considering such a fact, it seemed impossiblefor me be good at learning English. It must be a joke for me to become an English major. What even more unimaginable was that I can become a translation-major postgraduate? Being an English major itself is not worth celebrating, it means a lot of struggles, but no tears.
Growing up with three cousins was my happiest memory.Studying in high school was my most unforgettable time. Being an English majorstudent was my proudest memory. The above memories almost covered my childhood,teenage years and twenties, I will cherish them forever. And now I expect to havemore memorable times. I believe, I will, in TMC.
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