Everyone looks forward to progress. Progress shows a person’s ability to change the way he is living at the moment. Progress means a better way of doing things. However，all these remain true only when people want to accept technology and move forward by finding new and more efficient ways of doing things.

However，in the minds of many people，especially those who miss the “good old days”，progress goes with a price. Now communication becomes efficient. With the communication gadgets like mobile phones and iPads，people often do not take the effort to visit one another personally. A personal visit has the additional benefit of being in the person’s presence for as long as the visit lasts.

With progress also comes mass production. Factories have improved efficiency. Unskillful tasks are left to machines and products are better made and produced with greater accuracy than any human hand could ever have done. However，with the improvements in efficiency also comes the loss of the personal touch when they are making these products. For example，many handcrafts (手工艺品) are now produced in a factory. Although this means that supply is better able to increase demand，mass production lowers the quality of the handcraft and it is difficult to find unique designs on each item.

Nevertheless，we must not analyze progress only from one point of view. In fact，progress has allowed tradition to keep up. It is only with progress and the invention of new technology that many old products can be brought back to their old state. New technology is required for old products to stay old.

It is people’s attitude towards progress that causes the type of influence that technology has on society. Technology is flexible. There is no fixed way of making use of it. Everything depends on people’s attitude.

Once upon a time a daughter complained to her father that her life was miserable and that she didn’t know how she was going to make it.She was tired of fighting and struggling all the time. It seemed just as one problem was solved, another one soon followed. Her father, a chef, took her to the kitchen. He filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire.

Once the three pots began to boil, he placed potatoes in one pot, eggs in the second pot and ground coffee beans in the third pot. He then let them sit and boil, without saying a word to his daughter. The daughter complained and impatiently waited, wondering what he was doing. After twenty minutes he turned off the burners. He took the potatoes out of the pot and placed them in a bowl. He pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. He then ladled (舀) the coffee out and placed it in a cup.

Turning to her, he asked, “Daughter, what do you see?”“Potatoes, eggs and coffee,” she quickly replied.

“Look closer,” he said, “and touch the potatoes.” She did and noted that they were soft.

He then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg.

Finally, he asked her to sip the coffee. “Father, what does this mean?” she asked.

He then explained that the potatoes, the eggs and the coffee beans had each faced the same boiling water. However, they reacted differently. The potatoes were in strong and hard, but in the boiling water, they became soft and weak. The eggs were fragile (易碎的), with the thin outer shell protecting their liquid inside until they were put in the boiling water. Then the inside of the eggs became hard. However,the ground coffee beans were unique. After they were exposed to the boiling water, they changed the water and created something new.

“Which one are you?” he asked his daughter. “When the disaster knocks on your door, how do you respond?Are you a potato, an egg, or a coffee bean?”

“Father, I   want to be a coffee bean,” said the daughter,

In the end, she understands that

“Would you say you are more of a scientist or an artist?” I commonly heard this question as I was preparing to start my neuroscience doctoral program, often after I told my teachers and classmates that I love writing poetry. I learned to respond, “A scientist” — not because it was necessarily true, but because I felt it would win me more respect. As an undergraduate, poetry had been a way for me to relax. But in grad school, I wanted to be seen as just as devoted to my work as those around me, who appeared completely undisturbed by nonscientific hobbies. So, I left my poetry by the wayside — but it wasn’t long before I felt a huge void (空虚) in my life.

By the second year of my Ph.D. , my paper project had become very boring and tiring and I was starting to burn out. One afternoon, a student mentioned the weekly event held by the university’s poetry club, of which she was a leader. After hearing how much I enjoyed poetry, she declared, “You should come!” A few days later, I sat in a crowded cafe, excited to be here and to be a part of it.

Through reading and writing poems, I rediscovered how to relax. However, I still worried about appearing less than fully dedicated to my science. So, when a senior grad student in my lab whispered, “I hear you love poetry!” I froze. My heart began to race. She went on to invite me to perform at our department’s art gala (联欢会). “By the way, Cheryl will be performing!” she added.

I was surprised to discover that Cheryl, our lab’s principal investigator, was a dancer. I excitedly sought her out, and we spoke for more than an hour about how science and art could intertwine (交织). She explained that my skill at picking up patterns in experimental results was the same one I used to create rhymes in my poems. With Cheryl as a model, I decided to perform at the gala, for once not feeling I had anything to hide.

The night of the gala, I was amazed at the talent of the performers.

Since then, I decided to be my whole self.