Gwendolyn Brooks was the first African American to win a Pulitzer Prize for Literature. Gwendolyn Brooks wrote hundreds of poems during her lifetime. She was known around the world for using poetry to increase understanding about black culture in America.

  Her poems described conditions among the poor, racial inequality and drug use in the black community. She also wrote poems about the struggles of black women. But her skill was more than her ability to write about struggling black people. She was an expert at the language of poetry. She combined traditional European poetry styles with the African American experience.

  In her early poetry, Gwendolyn Brooks wrote about the South Side of Chicago. The South Side of Chicago is where many black people live. In her poems, the South Side is called Bronzeville. It was “A Street in Bronzeville” that gained the attention of literary experts in 1945. Critics praised her poetic skill and her powerful descriptions of the black experience during the time. The Bronzeville poems were her first published collection.

In 1950, Gwendolyn Brooks became the first African American to win the Pulitzer Prize for Literature. She won the prize for her second book of poems called “Annie Allen.” “Annie Allen” is a collection of poetry about the life of a Bronzeville girl as a daughter, a wife and mother. She experiences loneliness, loss, death and being poor. Ms. Brooks said that winning the prize changed her life.

  Her next work was a novel written in 1953 called “Maud Martha.” “Maud Martha” received little notice when it was first published. But now it is considered an important work by some critics. Its main ideas about the difficult life of many women are popular among female writers today.

  In some of her poems, Gwendolyn Brooks described how what people see in life is affected by who they are. One example is this poem, “Corners on the Curing Sky”.

By the end of the 1960s, Gwendolyn Brooks’s poetry expanded from the everyday experiences of people in Bronzeville. She wrote about a wider world and dealt with important political issues.

   In my profession as an educator and health care provider, I have worked with numerous children infected with the virus that causes AIDS. The relationships that I have had with these special kids have been gifts in my life. They have taught me so many things, and I have especially learned that great courage fan he found in the smallest of packages.

   Tyler was born infected with HIV and from the very beginning of his life. he was dependent on medications to survive. When he was five, he had a tube surgically inserted in a vein in his chest. This tube was connected to a pump, which he carried in a small backpack on his back. Medications were prepared inside this pump and were continuously supplied through this tube to his bloodstream. At times he also needed supplemented(补充的)oxygen to support his breathing.

   Tyler wasn't willing to give up one single moment of his childhood to this deadly disease. It was not unusual to find him playing and racing around his backyard, wearing his medicine-loaded backpack and dragging his tank of oxygen behind him. Tyler's morn often teased him by telling him that he moved so fast that she needed to dress him in red. That way, when she peered through the window to check on him playing in the yard, she could quickly spot him.

   This fateful disease eventually wore down Tyler. He grew quite ill and, unfortunately, so did his HIV-infected mother. When it became apparent that be wasn't going to survive, Tyler's mom talked to him about death. She comforted him by telling Tyler that she was dying too, and that she would be with him soon in heaven.

   A few days before his death, he whispered to me, "I might die soon. I'm not scared. When I die, please dress me in red. Morn promised she's coming to heaven, too. I'll be playing when she gets there, and I want to make sure she can find me."

  Former world number one Maria Sharapova has exposed she failed a drug test at the Australian Open. The Russian, 28, tested positive for meldonium(米屈肼), a substance she has been taking since 2006 for health issues. The International Tennis Federation(ITF) said the five-time Grand Slam champion would be temporarily suspended from March 12. Sportswear company Nike said it was cutting its relationship with her until the investigation was complete.

   "I did fail the test and take full responsibility for it," said Sharapova, who won Wimbledon as a 17-year-old in 2004.

   Sharapova, who lives in Florida, was charged on March 2．"It is very important for you to understand that, for 10 years, this medicine was not on Wada's banned list and I had been legally taking that medicine for the past 10 years," she said. "But, on January 1, the rules changed and meldonium became a prohibited substance, which I had not known."

   She added that Wada had sent her an email on December 22 informing her of changes to the banned list, but she had failed to "click" on the link that would have detailed the prohibited items.

   As for her sponsors, it remains to be seen if others follow the lead of Nike, who said it was "saddened and surprised by the news."

   Women's Tennis Association (WTA) president Steve Simon said he was "very saddened" at Sharapova's failed test. "Maria is a leader and I have always known her to be a woman of great integrity(正直)," he added. "As Maria acknowledged, it is every player's responsibility to know what they put in their body and to know if it is permissible. This matter is now in the hands of the Tennis AntiDoping Programme and its standard procedures."

 F   

      When was the last time you sat down, made a story up and wrote it down for the fun of it? I’m guessing school. That’s the case with me. Somewhere along the way, I stopped exercising my imagination when I became an adult and just let Hollywood and other people’s books take over.

     A guy I know called Johnny Lake has started a blog (博客) at 20minstory.blogspot.co.uk. I’ve now written three stories for him. The 20-minute story gives you a time limit to pen a tale. It could be about anything. But I found it’s not as easy as just telling an opinion or experience as a journalist. To make something up and finish it in that time, you need to have the idea.

Eventually I found the idea and the moment. I picked up my iPad in bed in South Wales and wrote about the weather I might encounter (遭遇) driving through the Brecon Beacons, across the country to the Yorkshire moors (漠泽), and on to Northumberland, which at the time was in rainstorms, floods and snow threats.

      I thought about those unstoppable TV pictures of old stone bridges being washed away, and set my story in the mind of a guy who goes hunting for wild weather, explaining why he loves it so much and how nature makes him feel that man can be easily harmed.

I finished it in 18 minutes and sent it off to the site. Johnny published it. People read it and gave me feedback (反馈). I hope it encouraged others to give it a go. Since then, I’ve written another about fear in the face of danger on the London Underground, and another about meeting the American film director Quentin Tarantino’s parents on a plane many years ago.

      It feels good to be writing something for no other reason than the fun and the challenge of it. In all three of the stories, I haven’t gone back and edited (编辑) anything. All you have to do is write the first words and you’re away.

B

Most of us know about the Nobel Prize, especially the Nobel Peace Prize, but few of us know anything about the man who set them up. His name was Alfred Nobel. He was a great scientist and inventor himself. Besides, he had a big business. His business may surprise you. He made and sold explosives. His companies even made and sold weapons. Isnˈt this something that surprises you? The man who made money from weapons should set up the Peace Prize?

Though Alfred Nobel had a lot of money from weapons, he hated war. He hoped that there would be no war in the world. He was one of the richest in Europe. When he died in 1896, he left behind him a lot of money and his famous will. According to his will, most of his money was placed in a fund. He wanted the interest from the fund to be used as prizes every year. We know them as the Nobel Prizes. The Nobel Prizes are international. Alfred Nobel wanted the winners to be chosen for their work, not the country they came from.

Alfred Nobel had given his whole life to his studies and work and to the benefits of mankind. He made money all by his own efforts, but he left the world share his wealth. His inventions and wealth stay with the world for ever.

A first-time novelist，Viet Thanh Nguyen，has won the 2016 Pulitzer Prize for fiction．He    won the prize for his book，“The Sympathizer．”The Pulitzer judges described Nguyen’s book as an immigrant’s story told through the voice of“a man of two minds，and two countries…’’

    The book is set in both Vietnam，where the author was born，and the United States，where    he was raised．

    Critics(文学批评家)have praised“The Sympathizer”as all exciting spy story with emo-    tional depth and humor：It tells about a group of South Vietnamese army officers who escape to    the United States at the end of the Vietnam War．Among them is a captain who is secretly loyal    to the Viet Cong．He reports to Viet Cong officials about the group and their lives in Los Angeles．    

    Nguyen came to the United States with his family in 1975 when he was very young．They    lived for several years in a refugee camp in Pennsylvania．They settled in San Jose，California．Nguyen studied at the University of California，Berkeley，where he earned a doctorate in Eng1ish．Now he is a professor of English and American studies and ethnicity at the University of Southern California．He has published three non-fiction books and some short stories．

The writer told the Los Angeles Times that it was important to him when the writers Toni    Morrison and Jhumpa Lahiri won Pulitzers．He called their wins landmarks for writers of color and Asian American writers．Nguyen said Morrison’s work influenced his choice to write f or，in his words，“people who are intimate to me and not to think that I was writing for a white audience first．”

    Viet Thanh Nguyen is not the first person to win a Pulitzer for a first novel．But，it is a rare event．

    Other 2016 Pulitzer winners include the poetry prize for“Ozone Journal”by Peter Balakian and the drama prize for the musical“Hamilton．”

C

When milk arrived on the doorstep

When I was a boy growing up in New Jersey in the 1960s, we had a milkman delivering milk to our doorstep(门阶). His name was Mr. Basille. He wore a white cap and drove a white truck. As a 5-year-old boy, I couldn’t take my eyes off the coin changer(硬币夹)fixed to his belt. He noticed this one day during a delivery and gave me a quarter(二十五美分)out of his coin changer.

   Of course, he delivered more than milk. There was cheese, eggsand soon. If we needed to change our order, my mother would pen a note --“Please add a bottle of buttermilk next delivery”

--and place it in the box along with the empty bottles. And then, the buttermilk would magically appear.

   All of this was about more than convenience. There existed a close relationship between families and their milkmen. Mr. Basille even had a key to our house, for those times when it was so cold outside that we put the box indoors, so that the milk wouldn’t freeze. And I remember Mr. Basille from time to time taking a break at our kitchen table, having a cup of tea and telling stories about his delivery.

There is sadly no home milk delivery today. Big companies allowed the production of cheaper milk, thus making it difficult for milkmen to compete. Besides, milk is for sale everywhere, and it may just not have been practical to have a delivery service.

Recently, an old milk box in the countryside I saw brought back my childhood memories. I took it home and planted it on the back porch(门廊). Every so often my son’s friends will ask what it is. So I start telling stories of my boyhood, and of the milkman who brought us friendship along with his milk.

C

Once an old man rose early to read each morning. His grandson wanted to be just like his grandfather, so tried to emulate him every way he could.

    One day the grandson asked, “Grandpa, I try to read just like you do, but I don’t understand most of it, and I forget whatever I do understand immediately I close the book. So what good is it for me to read?”

    The grandfather, who was putting coal on the fire, said, “Take this coal basket down to the river and bring me back a basket of water.”

The boy did as told to, but the water leaked out before he could get the basket home.

The grandfather laughed, saying, “You’ll have to move a little faster.” This time he ran faster, but again the basket emptied. Out of breath, he decided it was impossible to carry water in a basket, and he went to get a bucket（桶）. But the grandfather said, “I want a basket of water instead of a bucket of water. You’re just not trying hard enough.”

The boy knew what he was trying to accomplish was impossible. However, he decided to show his grandfather a third time.

The boy dipped the basket into the river and ran as hard as he could. With the empty basket, he gasped（喘气说）, “See Grandpa? It’s useless!”

“So you think it useless?” the old man asked. “Then look at the basket.” To his surprise, the boy found it washed clean of the dirty coal stains and now clean inside and out.

“My child, that’s what happens when you read the book. You might not understand or remember everything, but the words will change you inside and out. That is the work of reading in our lives.”   

C

Once an old man rose early to read each morning. His grandson wanted to be just like his grandfather, so tried to emulate him every way he could.

    One day the grandson asked, “Grandpa, I try to read just like you do, but I don’t understand most of it, and I forget whatever I do understand immediately I close the book. So what good is it for me to read?”

    The grandfather, who was putting coal on the fire, said, “Take this coal basket down to the river and bring me back a basket of water.”

The boy did as told to, but the water leaked out before he could get the basket home.

The grandfather laughed, saying, “You’ll have to move a little faster.” This time he ran faster, but again the basket emptied. Out of breath, he decided it was impossible to carry water in a basket, and he went to get a bucket（桶）. But the grandfather said, “I want a basket of water instead of a bucket of water. You’re just not trying hard enough.”

The boy knew what he was trying to accomplish was impossible. However, he decided to show his grandfather a third time.

The boy dipped the basket into the river and ran as hard as he could. With the empty basket, he gasped（喘气说）, “See Grandpa? It’s useless!”

“So you think it useless?” the old man asked. “Then look at the basket.” To his surprise, the boy found it washed clean of the dirty coal stains and now clean inside and out.

“My child, that’s what happens when you read the book. You might not understand or remember everything, but the words will change you inside and out. That is the work of reading in our lives.”   

D

There are four pearl dealers in our town of La Paz. About a week after my father had cut the pearl, the four men came to our home. They came early in the afternoon, dressed in their best black suits and carrying a scale and calipers (卡尺) and their money in a bag. When word got around that the dealers were going to buy the great black pearl, a crowd followed them and stood outside our gate.

The four men wore serious faces and they put their scale and calipers on the table and their brown bag as well. They sat down and folded their hands and said nothing. Then my father said. “The bag is very small, gentlemen. I doubt that it holds enough money to buy the great Pearl of Heaven.”

The four dealers did not like this. One of them, named Martin, was big and shaped like a barrel and had small white hands. “I have heard that the pearl is the size of a grapefruit,” he said, “If so, we have more money than we need. For as you know, the large ones are of little value.” “They do not live long, these monsters,” said Palomares, who was as fat as Martin. “They often die or become dull before a year passes.” “And so do many of the small ones,” my father said. “Like the pink one Palomares sold us last month.” Palomares shrugged his shoulders.

“Before I show the Pearl of Heaven,” my father said, “I will tell you the price. It is twenty thousand pesos, no more and no less.”

My father went out of the room and came back with the pearl wrapped in a piece of white velvet. He laid it on the table in front of the four dealers. The great pearl caught the light, gathered it and softened it into a moon of dark fire. None of the dealers spoke for a moment or two.

Then Martin said, “It is as I feared, more like a grapefruit than a pearl.” “It’s a monster all right,” Palomares said. “The kind that often has a brief life and is very hard to sell.” One of the dealers who had not spoken cleared his throat and said, “But still we will make an offer.” The other dealers nodded seriously. “Ten thousand pesos,” said Martin. Palomares grasped the pearl and studied it. “I think that I see a flaw (瑕疵),” he said after a long time. “Ten thousand is too much.” The great pearl was passed around to the other dealers and they all turned it in their hands. As last Martin used the calipers and placed the pearl on the scale. “His readings were the same as I had made almost. Eleven thousand pesos,” he said. My father answered, “In your lives you have never seen a pearl like this one, nor will you.” “Twelve thousand,” said Palomares.

For most of an hour the price the dealers offered went up two hundred and fifty pesos at a time until the figure reached the sum of fifteen thousand pesos.

“Then,” said my father, “I shall take the great pearl to Mexico City and ask twice that amount and sell it to dealers who know its true worth.” Palomares picked up the pearl and put it down. “If you remember,” he said, “you made the long journey to the City of Mexico once before. And what did you find there? You found that the dealers are not so generous (慷慨的) with their money as we are here in La Paz.And you came home after the long journey with your tail between your legs.”

My father stopped pacing and signed to me. “Go to the church,” he said, “and bring Father Gallardo. Whatever he is doing, see that he comes. Go quickly.”

Everybody fell silent as we came in. Then my father turned to the priest and bowed. “Here is the Pearl of Heaven,” he said. “My son and I give it to you so that you may give it to the Madonna, our beloved Lady-of-the-Sea, to hold and keep forever.”