关于梦想的英语演讲稿
Very happy and we feel we are one together - young teachers heroic feelings, My name is Ling, graduation Yidu teacher.
I was crying my choice too, have work for me sad too, because I embarked on a career like I did not do a very poor teacher, I cry many times my choice, they can In countless grief I have been comforted, when I saw both of that is full of naive, but eager to swim in the ocean of knowledge a child, my sinking, floating calm the mind, and slowly I also learn from practice feel the teacher's pride, he was like a Spring Silkworms, like the dedication of their own candles no regrets, I have seen it countless teachers no regrets。
and with their youth and lives to defend the sanctity of the teaching profession, but also what they use their own actions, with traces of life, inspired by those of us who come after, I have reluctantly enamel reluctantly, by the reluctance to wholeheartedly love this job, because I have seen that life will go beyond the utilitarian, although meals for life, But the living is not for eating, living in the possession of many small minded, short-term birth in eternity, while the teachers are such a career.
I know that a teacher tired, bitter, but to their own ideal, I still would like to pursue, to the surging waves of fighting, to sinister mountain climbing, there may be storms, a storm, the road may be bumpy, but I still would use laughter, with songs to fill ups and downs, I will meet with the merry laughter of the rising sun, I will be flying the heart to face my work and life. Yes ah!
five score years ago, a great american, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the emancipation proclamation. this momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. it came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.
but one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the negro is still not free. one hundred years later, the life of the negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. one hundred years later, the negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. one hundred years later, the negro is still languishing in the corners of american society and finds himself an exile in his own land. so we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.
in a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. when the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the constitution and the declaration of independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every american was to fall heir. this note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
it is obvious today that america has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. instead of honoring this sacred obligation, america has given the negro people a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." but we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. we refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation.
so we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
we have also come to this hallowed spot to remind america of the fierce urgency of now. this is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of god's children. now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.
it would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the negro. this sweltering summer of the negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning.
those who hope that the negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. there will be neither rest nor tranquility in america until the negro is granted his citizenship rights. the whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
but there is something that i must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. in the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
we must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. we must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
the marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.
we cannot walk alone.and as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. we cannot turn back. there are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "when will you be satisfied?" we can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. we cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. we can never be satisfied as long as a negro in mississippi cannot vote and a negro in new york believes he has nothing for which to vote. no, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I have a dream that one day every vally shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
Wow, what a dream it has been for Martin Luther King. But the changing world seems telling me that people gradually get their dreams lost somehow in the process of growing up, and sometimes I personally find myself saying goodbye unconsciously to those distant childhood dreams.
However, we meed dreams. They nourish our spirit; they represent possibility even when we are dragged down by reality. They keep us going. Most successful people are dreamers as well as ordinary people who are not afraid to think big and dare to be great. When we were little kids, we all dreamed of doing something big and splashy, something significant. Now what we need to do is to maintain them, refresh them and turn them into reality. However, the toughest part is that we often have no ideas how to translate these dreams into actions. Well, just start with concrete objectives and stick to it. Don’t let the nameless fear confuse the eye and confound our strong belief of future. Through our talents, through our wits, through our endurance and through our creativity, we will make it.
Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams, for when dreams go, life is a barren field frozen with snow. So my dear friends, think of your old and maybe dead dreams. Whatever it is, pick it up and make it alive from today.