话题05+成长经历-2023年新高考英语读后续写之十年高考真题微编微练（有答案）

这是一份话题05+成长经历-2023年新高考英语读后续写之十年高考真题微编微练（有答案），共9页。

2023年新高考英语读后续写之十年高考真题微编微练
主题05 成长经历
【真题微编】
(2022·北京卷·B)
My name is Alice. Early last year, I was troubled by an anxiety that crippled my ability to do anything. I felt like a storm cloud hung over me. For almost a year I struggled on, constantly staring at this wall that faced me. My perfectionist tendencies were the main root of this: I wanted to be perfect at whatever I did, which obviously in life is not possible, but it consumed me.
One day, I attended a presentation by wildlife conservationist Grant Brown at my high school. His presentation not only awed and inspired me, but also helped emerge an inner desire to make a difference in the world. I joined a pre-presentation dinner with him and that smaller setting allowed me to slowly build up my courage to speak one-on-one with him—an idea that had seemed completely impossible. This first contact was where my story began.
A month later, Brown invited me to attend the World Youth Wildlife Conference. Looking back, I now see that this would be the first in a series of timely opportunities that my old self would have let pass, but that this new and more confident Alice enthusiastically seized.
Shortly after I received his invitation,







I am writing this just six months since my journey began.








故事解读：
本文为记叙文，文章主要讲述作者通过参加保护自然活动治愈好了自己的焦虑。

范文赏析：
Paragraph 1:
Shortly after I received his invitation, applications to join the Youth for Nature and the Youth for Planet groups were sent around through my high school. I decided to commit to completing the applications, and soon I was a part of a growing global team of young people working to protect nature. Each of these new steps continued to grow my confidence.
Paragraph 2:
I am writing this just six months since my journey began. I’ve realized that my biggest obstacle this whole time was myself. It was that voice in the back of my head telling me that one phrase that has stopped so many people from reaching their potential: I can’t. They say good things come to those who wait; I say: grab every opportunity with everything you have and be impatient. After all, nature does not require our patience, but our action.

【真题微练01】
(2016•浙江卷•D)
Two things changed my life:my mother and a white plastic bike basket.I have thought long and hard about it and it’s true.I would be a different person if my mom hadn’t turned a silly bicycle accessory into a life lesson I carry with me today.
My mother and father were united in their way of raising children,but it mostly fell to my mother to actually carry it out.Looking back,I honestly don’t know how she did it.Managing the family budget must have been a very hard task,but she made it look effortless.If we complained about not having what another kid did,we’d hear something like,“I don’t care what so-and-so got for his birthday,you are not getting a TV in your room/a car for your birthday/ a lavish sweet-16 party.”We had to earn our allowance(零用钱)by doing chores around the house.I can still remember how long it took to polish the legs of our coffee table.My brothers can no doubt remember hours spent cleaning the house.Like the two little girls growing up at the White House,we made our own beds(no one left the house until that was done)and picked up after ourselves.We had to keep track of our belongings,and if something was lost,it was not replaced.
It was summer and,one day,my mother drove me to the bike shop to get a tire fixed—and there it was in the window. White,shiny,plastic and decorated with flowers,the basket winked at me and I knew—Iknew—I had to have it.
“It’s beautiful,”my mother said when I pointed it out to her,“What a neat basket.”
I tried to hold off at first,I played it cool for a short while.But then I guess I couldn’t stand it any longer:“Mom,please can I please,please get it?I’ll do extra chores for as long as you say. I’ll do anything, but I need that basket. I love that basket.Please, Mom. Please?”
I was desperate.
“You know,”she said,gently rubbing my back while we both stared at what I believed was the coolest thing ever,“If you save up you could buy this yourself.”
“By the time I make enough it’ll be gone!”
“Maybe Roger here could hold it for you,”she smiled at Roger, the bike guy.
“He can’t hold it for that long, Mom. Someone else will buy it.Please,Mom, Please?”
“There might be another way,”she said.
And so our paying plan unfolded.







Days later the unthinkable happened.








参考范文：
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And so our paying plan unfolded.My mother bought the beautiful basket and put it safely in some hiding place I couldn’t find.Each week I eagerly counted my growing savings increased by extra work here and there(washing the car,helping my mother make dinner,delivering or collecting things on my bike that already looked naked without the basket in front).And then,weeks later,I counted,re-counted and jumped for joy.Oh,happy day!I made it!I finally had the exact amount we’d agreed upon....
Paragraph 2:
Days later the unthinkable happened.A neighborhood girl I’d played with millions of times appeared with the exact same basket fixed to her shiny,new bike that already had all the bells and whistles.I rode hard and fast home to tell my mother about this disaster.This horrible turn of events. And then came the lesson I’ve taken with me through my life:“Honey,Your basket is extra-special,”Mom said,gently wiping away my hot tears.“Your basket is special because you paid for it yourself.”

【真题微练02】
(2015·福建卷·B)
Papa,as a son of a dirt-poor farmer,left school early and went to work in a factory,for education was for the rich then.So,the world became his school.With great interest,he read everything he could lay his hands on,listened to the town elders and learned about the world beyond his tiny hometown.“There’s so much to learn,”he’d say.“Though we’re born stupid,only the stupid remain that way.”He was determined that none of his children would be denied(拒绝)an education.
Thus,Papa insisted that we learn at least one new thing each day.Though,as children,we thought this was crazy,it would never have occurred to us to deny Papa a request.And dinner time seemed perfect for sharing what we had learned.We would talk about the news of the day;no matter how insignificant,itwas never taken lightly.Papa would listen carefully and was ready with some comment,always to the point.
Then came the moment—the time to share the day’s new learning.
Papa,at the head of the table,would push back his chair and pour a glass of red wine,ready to listen.
“Felice,”he’d say,“tell me what you learned today.”
“I learned that the population of Nepal is....”
Silence.
Papa was thinking about what was said,as if the salvation(拯救)of the world would depend upon it.“The population of Nepal.Hmm.Well....”he’d say.“Get the map;let’s see where Nepal is.”And the whole family went on a search for Nepal.
This same experience was repeated until each family member had a turn.







Later during my training as a future teacher,I studied with some of the most famous educators.








参考范文：
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This same experience was repeated until each family member had a turn.Dinner ended only after we had a clear understanding of at least half a dozen such facts. As children,we thought very little about these educational wonders.Our family,however,was growing together,sharing experiences and participating in one another’s education.And by looking at us,listening to us,respecting our input,affirming our value,giving us a sense of dignity,Papa was unquestionably our most influential teacher.
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Later during my training as a future teacher,I studied with some of the most famous educators.They were imparting what Papa had known all along—the value of continual learning.His technique has served me well all my life.Not a single day has been wasted,though I can never tell when knowing the population of Nepal might prove useful.

【真题微练03】
(2013·湖北卷·A)
Some years ago, writing in my diary used to be a usual activity.I would return from school and spend the expected half hour recording the day's events, feelings, and impressions in my little blue diary.I did not really need to express my emotions by way of words, but I gained a certain satisfaction from seeing my experiences forever recorded on paper.After all, isn't accumulating memories a way of preserving the past?
When I was thirteen years old, I went on a long journey on foot in a great valley, well－equipped with pens, a diary, and a camera.During the trip, I was busy recording every incident, name and place I came across.I felt proud to be spending my time productively, dutifully preserving for future generations a detailed description of my travels.On my last night there, I wandered out of my tent, diary in hand.The sky was clear and lit by the glare of the moon, and the walls of the valley looked threatening behind their screen of shadows.I automatically took out my pen…
At that point, I understood that nothing I wrote could ever match or replace the few seconds I allowed myself to experience the dramatic beauty of the valley.All I remembered of the previous few days were the dull characterizations I had set down in my diary.
Now, I only write in my diary when I need to write down a special thought or feeling.







I don't want to wake up one day and have nothing but a pile of pictures and notes.








参考范文：
Paragraph 1:
Now, I only write in my diary when I need to write down a special thought or feeling.I still love to record ideas and quotations that strike me in books, or observations that are particularly meaningful.I take pictures, but not very often—only of objects I find really beautiful.I'm no longer blindly satisfied with having something to remember when I grow old.I realize that life will simply pass me by if I stay behind the camera, busy preserving the present so as to live it in the future.
Paragraph 2:
I don't want to wake up one day and have nothing but a pile of pictures and notes. Maybe I won't have as many exact representations of people and places; maybe I'll forget certain facts, but at least the experiences will always remain inside me.I don't live to make memories—I just live, and the memories form themselves.

【真题微练04】
(2013·新课标全国卷Ⅱ·A)
Doctors are known to be terrible pilots. They don't listen because they already know it all. I was lucky: I became a pilot in 1970, almost ten years before I graduated from medical school. I didn't realize then, but becoming a pilot makes me a better surgeon. I loved flying. As I flew bigger, faster planes, and in worse weather, I learned about crew resource management (机组资源管理), or CRM, a new idea to make flying safer. It means that crew members should listen and speak up for a good result, regardless of positions.
I first read about CRM in 1980. Not long after that, an attending doctor and I were flying in bad weather. The controller had us turn too late to get our landing ready. The attending doctor was flying; I was safety pilot. He was so busy because of the bad turn, he had forgotten to put the landing gear (起落架) down. He was a better pilot—and my boss—so it felt unusual to speak up.
But I had to: Our lives were in danger.







CRM requires that the pilot/surgeon encourage others to speak up.








参考范文：
Paragraph 1:
But I had to: Our lives were in danger. I put aside my uneasiness and said, “We need to put the landing gear down now！” That was my first real lesson in the power of CRM, and I've used it in the operating room ever since.
Paragraph 2:
CRM requires that the pilot/surgeon encourage others to speak up. It further requires that when opinions are from the opposite, the doctor doesn't overreact, which might prevent fellow doctors from voicing opinions again. So when I'm in the operating room, I ask for ideas and help from others. Sometimes they're not willing to speak up. But I hope that if I continue to encourage them, someday someone will keep me from “landing_gear_up”．

【真题微练05】
(2013·浙江卷·D)
In 1974, after filling out fifty applications, going through four interviews, and winning one offer, I took what I could get—a teaching job at what I considered a distant wild area: western New Jersey. My characteristic optimism was alive only when I reminded myself that I would be doing what I had wanted to do since I was fourteen—teaching English.
School started, but I felt more and more as if I were in a foreign country. Was this rural area really New Jersey? My students took a week off when hunting season began. I was told they were also frequently absent in late October to help their fathers make hay on the farms. I was a young woman from New York City, who thought that “Make hay while the sun shines” just meant to have a good time.
But, still, I was teaching English. I worked hard, taking time off only to eat and sleep. And then there was my sixth－grade class—seventeen boys and five girls who were only six years younger than me. I had a problem long before I knew it. I was struggling in my work as a young idealistic teacher. I wanted to make literature come alive and to promote a love of the written word. The students wanted to throw spitballs and whisper dirty words in the back of the room.
In college I had been taught that a successful educator should ignore bad behavior. So I did, confident that, as the textbook had said, the bad behavior would disappear as I gave my students positive attention. It sounds reasonable, but the text evidently ignored the fact that humans, particularly teenagers, rarely seem reasonable. By the time my boss, who was also my taskmaster, known to be the strictest, most demanding, most quick to fire inexperienced teachers, came into the classroom to observe me, the students exhibited very little good behavior to praise.
My boss sat in the back of the room. The boys in the class were making animal noises, hitting each other while the girls filed their nails or read magazines. I just pretended it all wasn't happening, and went on lecturing and tried to ask some inspiring questions. My boss, sitting in the back of the room, seemed to be growing bigger and bigger. After twenty minutes he left, silently. Visions of unemployment marched before my eyes.
I felt mildly victorious that I got through the rest of class without crying, but at my next free period I had to face him. I wondered if he would let me finish out the day. I walked to his office, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
He was sitting in his chair, and he looked at me long and hard. I said nothing. All I could think of was that I was not an English teacher; I had been lying to myself, pretending that everything was fine.
When he spoke, he said simply, without accusation, “You had nothing to say to them.”
“You had nothing to say to them，” he repeated.







As the year progressed,








参考范文：
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“You had nothing to say to them，” he repeated. “No wonder they're bored. Why not get to the meat of the literature and stop talking about symbolism. Talk with them, not at them. And more important, why do you ignore their bad behavior？” We talked. He named my problems and offered solutions. We role－played. He was the bad student, and I was the forceful, yet, warm, teacher.
Paragraph 2:
As the year progressed, we spent many hours discussing literature and ideas about human beings and their motivations. He helped me identify my weaknesses and my strengths. In short, he made a teacher of me by teaching me the reality of Emerson's words: “The secret to education lies in respecting the pupil.” Fifteen years later I still drive that same winding road to the same school. Thanks to the help I received that difficult first year, the school is my home now.