I accidentally found a time capsule, in purple and green floss (丝线) in the midst of sorting out some old things last month. Faded and worn, it was a friendship bracelet (手链)—an important part of my teenage summers. Holding it in my hand made me think about those precious memories of childhood, which my kids will never know firsthand.

My handiwork wasn’t beautiful. But what I remember is the beauty of the offering: slipping something into a friend’s hand and knowing it would always be with them. The experience was intoxicating—like the serious business of exchanging wedding rings, it was a symbol of an unbreakable bond. Those bracelets represented how much we meant to each other, at a time when our friends were becoming the center of our lives.

I slept with my bracelets and showered with them. I wore them all summer long at camp. And I acquired new bracelets from friends there—friends who received carefully crafted bracelets from me in return, as we said our tearful end-of-summer goodbyes. I thought having them helped ease the pain of leaving my friends. But now I see that they were really helping me to leave behind childhood.

My kids don’t go to summer camp. They certainly don’t exchange anything as uncool as bracelets with their friends. They hang out on Discord (一种聊天工具) in chats that only pause but never end. Our eldest son endlessly texts on his cellphone as he and his friends make one another talking emojis and TikTok videos.

Their relationships with their phones leave no time or space for writing letters or making bracelets, and their gifts to one another leave no clear and definite traces. There will be no boxes of letters to sort years from now nor any hidden bracelets to find. They will have little to physically hold on to.

On March 19, 2018, the world lost Sudan, the last male northern white rhino (犀牛）.

Sudan died at the age of 45.

A new film, Kifaru, tells Sudan’s story through the eyes of his Kenyan caretakers. Kifaru, directed by David Hambridge, was recently shown at the Hot Docs 2019 Festival in Toronto, Canada. People are drawn into the world of the three caretakers and their love for Sudan

“I saw the caretakers, the bond (纽带）they had, and how strong it was,” Hambridge said. WI saw how much they loved giving Sudan baths, feeding him, sitting next to him, and talking to him.”

After showing the bond between Sudan and his caretakers, Hambridge decided to tell the story“ in a way that was very human, ” he explained. “I wanted people to be able to experience the joys and pitfalls of animal protection on the ground.

Taking care of a rhino, especially the last male northern white rhino, is no easy job. In Kenya, the role of a rhino caretaker does not make much money. Moreover, the caretakers had to spend 10 months out of the year away from their families. As James, one of Sudan scaretakers, said in Kifaru, the job was taking care of an animal that can never look you in the eyes 3nd say, “ Thank you.”

The film comes along with lots of sad news about animal extinction（灭绝)Except for rhinos, many of whom were killed for their horns(角)，lots of other animals are disappearing as well. According to a new report from the United Nations, as many as one million kinds of animals are at risk of extinction because of human activity.

As caretaker James said about the rhino problem, extinction is the result of humans endless greed(贪欲）. Unless we act now, life on Earth could change quickly.

“I have no idea what to do with 1,000 tennis balls!”

My student Nick was discouraged with the assignment. I’d asked the students to imagine they were working at the U.S. Open Tennis Tournament. After the tournament ended, a supervisor offered them the lightly used tennis balls hit during the event by stars like Serena Williams and Roger Federer. Their job was to sell the balls for a profit.

“I had a couple of good ideas at first,” Nick said. “I could sell them as dog toys or to hospitals that could put them on the bottom of walker frames to keep them from slipping.” Then he struggled to think of more options and decided that was the best he could do.

Most people believe that good ideas come quickly or not at all — but it turns out that’s not the case. Researchers call this “the creative cliff illusion (错觉)”, the sense that we’re unlikely to get good ideas if they don’t appear the minute we start thinking.

The truth, though, is that the best ideas often come later. Your first ideas tend to reflect common wisdom, and thinking like everyone else isn’t a recipe for creativity. The solution is to persist, even though persevering feels hard. If you continue working, more interesting and original ideas will emerge.

I explained this to the class, and we spent another 10 minutes thinking together. Nick realized that he could sell the balls using two different strategies: selling a small portion for a lot of money as signed souvenirs to tennis fanatics and the rest at a discount to tennis schools serving under privileged kids.

Finally, I, together with my students drew a conclusion after discussion: don’t assume your first ideas are always your best ones but do keep brainstorming after you think you’re out of new ideas. It’s worth spending 10-15 minutes longer on a task, because the best ideas are likely just around the corner.