您当前的位置:江博教育> 文书解析>文书解析 | 美甲-看到指尖之外的美

文书解析 | 美甲-看到指尖之外的美

2020-05-22 09:48:48 来源:江博教育 作者:江博教育

我们常说:艺术来源于生活,高于生活。写一篇好的文书,又何尝不是一门艺术呢?想要写好一篇文书,首先是要有生活。那么问题来了,生活是什么?有人回答说:生活不就是鸡毛蒜皮,家长里短,七零八碎的事儿组成么?也许是对一种生活常态的抱怨或是感慨,也许是和身边的人一次因意见不合的龃龉,亦或是自己情有独钟的某种奇葩爱好(一定不要是那种为了升学、考试而定制出来的爱好哈~)。


如果你能理解到这一步,那么恭喜你,距离写好一篇优秀的文书还有一步之遥。如何让一篇文书塑造一个你,或者是你希望展现给别人是一个怎样的“你”?对于申请者而言,每个人成长和生活的背景都是唯一的,如此特有的素材,从生活常态中信手拈来一个场景,都可以实现以小见大的效果,折射出一个最真实的你。在美国,无论各州美甲行业都异常火爆,大街小巷遍布各种大大小小的美甲店,有些美甲店是和店主的住家连为一体的,属于前店后宅的模式。那么,就让我们从下面的这篇文章中,看看这位作者是如何从家里最真实的生活常态入手,找到文书灵感来源的吧:



文章引用:汉密尔顿学院

https://www.hamilton.edu/admission/apply/college-essays-that-worked


By ALEXANDRA REBOREDO

Hialeah, Fla.


When my mother started a cosmetology business to support our family, I lost my sense of home. Our dining table was no longer for sharing a steaming plate of white rice, ground beef, and black beans. Instead, it was for crisp white towels, bundles of thin, pointed wooden sticks, sterilized tweezers and scissors, and hundreds of bottles of polish.


At first, her clients were quiet. I heard nothing but the gentle hum of the air conditioner accompanied by the whirring of the electric foot rasp, and the occasional ring of a phone echoing through the hallway of closed doors. As her clients returned, they developed familiarity — the one with bleach-blonde hair in heaping curls bound together on the top of her head, her shrill, high-pitched voice wanting her nails lacquered in the darkest crimson; the 50-year-old Cuban woman who always brought pastelitos and complained about her single life, hoping a new haircut would bring her the man of her dreams; the hearty laugh that boomed through the house every Saturday morning was my human alarm clock when a mother of three was happy to have a break from tracking her toddlers. My mom had become a therapist attending her clients’ hands and feet under a white-bulb lamp with watchful eyes and open ears.


Yet, my mother and I never went out to brunch like Natalie and her mom. We never went shopping like Daylin and her mom. She’d never ask me how my day was.


“Mami, why don’t you talk to me?” I’d ask as she was hunched over the sink and up to her elbows in soap suds.


“Why don’t you come out of your room for once?” she’d scold in Spanish.


Maybe she had a point. To me, “home” was a small room with a twin bed, a desk piled with yearbooks, magazines, newspapers, and a dresser covered in college flyers, polaroid photos, and an assortment of candles. It was my own world. To my mom, however, “home” was where family met work — all her little worlds collided. Six years after she fled from Moldova to Cuba, she and my father headed for the U.S. by raft. My mother left her own family behind, but keeps the door open to those who seek to be a part of ours. Reluctantly, I realized I had to open my own door as well.


Now, when I hear the voices of my favorite clients through the paper-thin wall separating my bedroom and the dining table, I join them. Vivian, dyeing her roots to hide the gray, recounts the stories of her son hitching rides through France, Ukraine, Italy, and Spain. My mother — the diligent listener — occasionally chimes in with questions. Tania comes in for her weekly manicure at 3:50 p.m., complaining about the day’s difficult clients at the attorney’s office where she works. Lily comes on Fridays, taking clients’ phone calls and documenting therapy sessions on her laptop while my mother tends to her toenails. From these women who seek comfort and find vanity, I hear endless stories about family betrayal, the neighborhood chisme about who’s being evicted from the apartment complex, and complaints about overcharged phone bills.


These conversations constructed my new “home”: maybe someday I’ll backpack across Europe, or work for a law firm, or travel with clientele right in my pocket. In the meantime, my mom and I talk more than ever before, trading the whereabouts of my day at school for the moments she shared with her clients. We share our own moments together — and a new definition of home.




生词:

1. Pastelitos 香炸曲奇,甜点的一种;

2. Lacquered [ˈlækərd] adj. 上漆的; 喷有发胶的; v. 给(木制品或金属)涂漆; 给(头发)喷发胶; lacquer的过去分词和过去式;

3. Crimson [ˈkrɪmzn] adj. 深红色的; 暗红色的; n.深红色;

4. Manicure [ˈmænɪkjʊr] n. 修剪指甲; 指甲护理; v. 修剪(指甲); 护理(手);

5. Reluctantly [rɪ'lʌktəntli] adv. 勉强; 懊丧地; 小心地; 厌恶地;

6. Collided [kəˈlaɪdɪd] v. 碰撞; 相撞; 严重不一致; 冲突; 抵触; collide的过去分词和过去式;



解析:

1. When my mother started a cosmetology business to support our family, I lost my sense of home. 


开篇第一句埋下了一个伏笔,给读者以丰富的想象空间,我们不仅发问:以从事美甲行业来支撑全家的妈妈,是如何让作者感到失落的?


2. Our dining table was no longer for sharing a steaming plate of white rice, ground beef, and black beans. Instead, it was for crisp white towels, bundles of thin, pointed wooden sticks, sterilized tweezers and scissors, and hundreds of bottles of polish.


开门见山,通过对家中桌子上的杂乱场景,使读者有很好的带入感,让人眼前不由自主的浮现出桌上满是指甲油、各种凌乱的美甲用品的场景。这样接地气的描述,让读者有继续往下读的好奇:这么糟糕的生活日常,会对学生产生什么样的影响?


3. My mom had become a therapist attending her clients’ hands and feet under a white-bulb lamp with watchful eyes and open ears. 


一句话,让我们看到了作者妈妈的一个工作状态。这与本段描述杂乱美甲店的场景和开篇段落形成呼应。能很好的解释,为什么家里的餐桌上总是被那些零零散散的美甲工具占据着,从此我们也可以联想到,作者家是做美甲店,妈妈是美甲师,。作者的这条主线自始至终都没有偏离。


4. “Why don’t you come out of your room for once?” she’d scold in Spanish.


本句是全文的一个非常巧妙的转折点,也是作者的顿悟,并引发思考的一个引子。


5. To me, “home” was a small room with a twin bed, a desk piled with yearbooks, magazines, newspapers, and a dresser covered in college flyers, polaroid photos, and an assortment of candles. 


作者对自己心目中对于“家”这个概念的理解进行了描述,但当看到妈妈虽然很艰辛的在工作,却能在做工过程中把不同文化、不同背景,不同阶层的人们融为一体,成为一个家庭。这一点,对作者的触动很大。


6. To my mom, however, “home” was where family met work — all her little worlds collided. 


这里,自己对“家”的理解,和通过看到妈妈工作状态引申到妈妈对“家”的理解,产生了对比,这种对比很好的映证了妈妈之前的那句疑问:“Why don’t you come out of your room for once?” 言外之意,“你不走出你自己的世界,怎么能看到更广阔的世界?”


7. Now, when I hear the voices of my favorite clients through the paper-thin wall separating my bedroom and the dining table, I join them. 


顺理成章的结果,我们看到了作者对自己生活环境态度上的转变,从最开始觉得家里Business严重影响了自己的生活,到现在自己开始享受这种Family Business带来的纷繁嘈杂,因为他可以从这些形形色色的人们身上看到不同的东西,同时也学会了接纳和包容。


8. We share our own moments together — and a new definition of home. 


作者赋予文章一个简单明快的收尾,同时也很好的诠释了自己对于“家”的全新的理解,与开篇段落中“When my mother started a cosmetology business to support our family, I lost my sense of home.”形成了呼应,文章在升华中完美结束。


特别鸣谢江博留学文书顾问李震老师

最新开班课程