「我好像沒學到什麼...」，我無奈的搖搖頭說著，眼睛看著空白的筆記本，可能這就是東西方文化的差異吧...，我心裡嘀咕著。記得那些名師嗎...殷非凡、沈赫哲、徐薇...晚上七點，整棟大樓燈火通明，教室裡一群學生正聚精會神的聽老師講課，這就是我原本以為的 "系統化學習"。

在西方的大學殿堂裡，同學們彷彿成了2100 全民開講的特別來賓，天南地北的高談闊論，而教授則化身成了主持人李濤，讓同學們自由發揮，偶爾來插嘴幾句，剛開始的時候就是無法適應！記得那一學季想拿一門通識課來調劑一下，因此沒報名上台灣教授的課，卻去上了非裔教授的課，原本以為是一門以 Power Point Slides 解說 Renoir、Picasso 名畫的藝術教育課，卻成了爭論一件雕塑品是否涉及歧視黑人的公堂。

「讓來自亞洲的同學說說自己的看法吧」 ，教授說道。 「黃種人能做壁上觀嗎？」 我回答著，接下來我大概做了一回生平首次的喜劇演員吧！ 呵呵！我這門課最終拿了個 A....

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth
on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty,
and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal...." 

This is Abraham Lincoln's famous Gettysburg Address.
No, I am not here to talk about American Civil War
but I used to remember this speech by heart
because it is written on the wall of the main library of my school
and I used to spend countless days in the library studying.

"It is more than education.
It is a life time experience and culture shock.."
I told myself. Being an undergraduate student in an American university
after graduated from high school was rare back in my days.

Studying hard to maintain a good GPA to lock my grant
and scholarship for the next year;
Thinking and speaking in a second language so dramatically different
from my native tongue; It is not easy,
but hey, most of my American classmates are doing the same thing!
Some of them are even entrepreneurs themselves
and founded companies while they were in colleges!

Now I do remember a famous poem written by
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
A poem that the author said himself is
"It was a voice from my inmost heart and at the time
I was rallying from great depression.
This poem can help any person who is weary,
unhappy and discouraged to be "
up and doing with a heart of any fate. 

To whoever has a dream but with tremendous difficulties lied ahead,
read this poem and enjoy :)

A PSALM OF LIFE
 

 TELL me not, in mournful numbers,

     Life is but an empty dream ! —

    For the soul is dead that slumbers,

        And things are not what they seem.

    Life is real !   Life is earnest!

        And the grave is not its goal ;

    Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

        Was not spoken of the soul.

    Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

        Is our destined end or way ;

    But to act, that each to-morrow

        Find us farther than to-day.

    Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

        And our hearts, though stout and brave,

    Still, like muffled drums, are beating

        Funeral marches to the grave.

    In the world's broad field of battle,

        In the bivouac of Life,

    Be not like dumb, driven cattle !

        Be a hero in the strife !

    Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !

        Let the dead Past bury its dead !

    Act,— act in the living Present !

        Heart within, and God o'erhead !

    Lives of great men all remind us

        We can make our lives sublime,

    And, departing, leave behind us

        Footprints on the sands of time ;

    Footprints, that perhaps another,

        Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

    A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

        Seeing, shall take heart again.

    Let us, then, be up and doing,

        With a heart for any fate ;

    Still achieving, still pursuing,

        Learn to labor and to wait.