Last summer I sat at a long picnic table near a breathtaking mountain. While the parents were eating dinner, the kids ran up a trail in search of a secret fort. Twenty minutes later one excited little boy, James, interrupted the adult conversation.

“Mom, Mom, you can’t believe what we found!”

Lovingly, his mother smiled and whispered, “I can’t wait to hear, James, but grown-ups are tal king, and there will be a pause in the conversation. Please wait for the pause.”

On my other side, another boy came running up to his mother with equal enthusiasm.

“Mom, Mom, we had so much fun—”

“I am talking! Don’t interrupt,” she said.

“But, Mom—”

“Be quiet! Can’t you see that I am talking??”

“But Mom we found the—”

“Shut up, Steve!” she yelled.

My heart sank. I knew what was coming. James, on my right, patiently waited for the pause, enthusiasm still alive and well. Steve, on my left, walked away from the table, looking shamed, carrying with him stories of secret forts never to be shared.

What markedly different messages to the child! “Wait for the pause” versus “Shut up” gets incorporated (包含)so differently into a child’s developing sense of self.

Harsh(刺耳的) words have bad effects. That’s why I want you to promise to delete the phrases “Shame on you” or “You should be ashamed” from your vocabulary. I have seen countless patients whose paren ts’ thoughtless words echoed in their heads and chipped(消除) away at their self-worth, even decades later.

So we have to discipline ourselves to make our instructions constructive. One great tool is to look for positive behavior to reinforce. Don’t ignore t he things that your kids are doing right. Thank your children. Tell them that you noticed how they waited patiently or cleared their plate without being asked. Chances are that they will do it again. Let them feel noticed, appreciated, and valued. There’s no better way to shape behavior.

When an editor called to ask if I could photograph a story about fireflies in Mexico, I didn’t check my schedule before I said yes. I’d seen these insects light up the forests in Tlaxcala once before, and I jumped at the chance to go back.

While studying, I began exploring Mexico, crossing the country several times by bus. Now I work as a photojournalist in Mexico and along the border, documenting desperate situations that face everyday Mexicans. Though necessary and important, news stories don’t reflect the Mexico that I fell for and that is home to so many people I love. A task focused on the country’s natural beauty was a welcome reprieve for me.

I had three nights to film the magical scene in the forest. According to our guides, visitors are usually not allowed to photograph the fireflies because the presence of artificial light from electronics can affect their habits. As I started shooting, I adjusted my exposures constantly to account for the fading light. In order to get the composition that I wanted, I placed my tripod on a steep, rocky path and had to steady: it during the long exposures. Normally this wouldn’t be a big deal, but the fireflies were very interested in the camera and by extension in me. I stood completely still while they were all over me—my arms, my hair, my face. From what I observed, peak fireflies presence lasts for only about 20 minutes each night, so I had time for just a few tries.

On the last night everything came together. The weather cooperated. I had improved my method " for focusing and composing photos in the dark with quick flashes from a powerful flashlight--and I’d grown accustomed to insects on my face.

I was rewarded with the image you see here. Each dot of light is one of several bursts that a firefly makes as it travels within a 30-second exposure. You can track the insects paths: Some make small circles, like those in the bottom center of the frame, while others move steadily in one direction or another.

To a regular person, Spitfire may look like just an ordinary dog, but to fans of the dock diving circuit, he is an incredible athlete in the same league as sport stars like Michael Jordan or Kobe Bryant

Before COVH-19, eight-year-old Spitfire and his 16-year-old owner, Sydney, dominated the dock diving circuit like never before in the history of the sport. If you’re unfamiliar with the sport of dock diving, it’s essentially dogs running on a wooden dock and jumping as far or as high as possible before diving into a pool of water. And no dog did this better than Spitfire. Between 2016 and 2019, he broke 21 world records.

Spitfire came into the Mackey family in 2013. Back then, he was just an adorable dog with big eyes that Sydney instantly fell in love with. Sydney and her mother learned about dock diving in 2016, from a family friend who encouraged them to try it with Spitfire. In May of that year, they decided to give the sport a try and their pet proved to be a natural.

It wasn’t long after that very first jump that Sydney and Spitfire started making waves in the world of dock diving. They took the sport by storm and they dominated events across the United States like no team had ever done before. In three years^, time, they broke many world records, and became known as an unbeatable pair of players.

Before he jumps into the air, the world’s best dock diver reaches a speed of about 30 miles per hour, and when he takes to the air he can reach a distance of 31 feet before hitting the water, or 8 feet 6 inches when he’s going for height. It’s no wonder they call him the flying dog.

But while Spitfire is undoubtedly the star of the show, most dock diving experts are convinced that despite his athletic abilities, he would have never reached his true potential without his young owner’s guidance. Sydney’s “Ready? Ready? Go, Go, Go!” pep talk to get Spitfire fired up has become famous on the dock jumping circuit.