I'm a news reporter in a local TV station. When it comes to news reporter, people may say oh that's a thrilling job, such as those war correspondents. That's great. I am a green hand and have not achieved something great. But my experience has taught me a lesson that no matter what I do, work with LOVE. I would like quote the most cited line of Hamlet, William Shakespeare-to be or not to be that is the question. To me, it is to be or not to be, that is not the question. If to be, work with love.

   What is love? I wonder. My mother prepares breakfast for me every morning and waits me for dinner every evening. That is mother's love. I take great pride when I witness the development of this city. I love my hometown. I feel a great affinity when I interview people from all walks of life. I love this land and the people on this land. I love my work. It makes me survive and be economically independent. The more important is that it is my career. I cherish it and devote myself to it. Working with love, that is why I could work continuously for 24 hours, and why I am happy with my life even I have few holidays, let alone weekends.

   I love my work with a brave heart. I will never forget the typhoon Yunna attack Hangzhou last year. At that pitch black night, most people stayed at home. The city seemed empty. However, as a news reporter, it was my duty to follow the trail of typhoon and catch every possible piece of information to make citizens feel assured. To be frank, I was scared at that moment. There is a scar on my forehead, it was because of a typhoon hit Hangzhou when I was 8 years old. It was a real challenge for me. Blood, disability, even death...ran through my mind. Duty, honor and professional ethic...made me determined to take the challenge. The typhoon left Hangzhou without causing much damage. I went to farms in the villages nearby to interview. Thanks to good preparations, farmers didn't suffer much loss. Recalling my last 24 hours--writing news script, running to meteorology bureau, going to accident sites, I was worn out at that moment but was encouraged. I felt I was part of the main, my efforts were helpful to the society.

   Brave heart is obviously not enough. As a news reporter, I love my work with clear eyes. Just 3 days ago, a message went like a bomb in the crowd. Some departments stores announced a super discount which aroused an unprecedented shopping rush in this city. I am one of the rush, while as a reporter, I told myself to calm down and try to see something through the surface. What will happen after this fever? Who is the true winner during this competition? To my surprise, most managers of the stores express their worry about the rush. They say they are forced to do that because others do. And exports also alarm that the deadline of this game is 300RMB with 120RMB return, otherwise it will destroy the lasting consuming power of the city. If my reporting work can make the audience to see something more clearly, that’s my pleasure.

   Brave heart and clear eyes make a good reporter or more exactly a reporting machine. I love my work with a caring mind. Yes, I care. I care about my interviewee's status. I feel sad when they are in trouble; I am glad when I know that they have get out of the trouble. Once I interviewed somebody in a hospital, a girl who was crying at the corner called my attention. She told me that her father got leukaemia and mom was just hurt badly in an accident, it’s totally impossible for her to pay the bill. I made her story into several pieces of news, not only for the sympathy to her family but also felt accountable to care about, how can a fragile countryside family survive in such serious illness? And what will be improved in our present social helping system? Later, I got an encouraging answer from the government and a grateful letter from the girl. It’s the best gift for a reporter. When you show more love to the society, you will find more return.

    Brave heart, clear eyes and caring mind, all make me fall in love with my work. It is my career, it is part of my life.

   At the end of my speech, I'd like to cite several lines by the poet Gibran——

   All knowledge is vain save when there is work;

   All work is empty save when there is love,

  When you work with love, You bind yourself to yourself,

  and to one another, and to God.

     On October 3rd, Li yuchun, the girl who got more than 3.5 million votes to win the  2005 Super Girls' Voice, rushed into our view again on the coverl of TIME, as one of Asia's Heros.Suddenly, so many people made comments on this issue. For YUMI(corn in Chinese, the nick name of Yuchun's fan),this news can't not be better, while the crowd dislike her scolded again and again. The angel or the devil?  It seemed like some endless controvert.OK, keep quiet, let's see why Time chose her?

Li Yuchun Loved for Being Herself

              BY Susan Jakes 　　

　　Monday, Oct. 03, 2005 　

  　Chinese showbiz rarely produces icons. Sure, there are the dozen or so movie actors who can carry a film, and the odd rocker who fills a stadium. But seldom does a face on China's small screen really stand out. Even singing, the national pastime and TV staple, seems reserved for an interchangeable lineup of warbling coquettes, husky crooners and jolly fellows in brass stars and epaulets belting out odes to red flags. 　　

　Which helps explain how a 21-year-old Sichuanese music student named Li Yuchun has become one of the most popular figures in China. In August, Li won a televised American Idol-like singing contest produced by Hunan province's Entertainment Channel and bearing its own inimitable name: "Mongolian Cow Sour Yogurt Super Girl's Voice." (Its sponsor makes yogurt.) The show drew the largest audiences in the history of Chinese television. As the competition narrowed, the media covered it like a war or the O.J. Simpson trial. By the time the finale aired, some 400 million people were tuning in. 　

　The Li Yuchun phenomenon, however, goes far beyond her voice, which even the most ardent fans admit is pretty weak: her vocal range drifts between Cher territory and that place your little brother's voice went the summer before seventh grade. As a dancer, she's not much better. Hei Nan, one of the event's judges, told the Guangzhou Daily that Li was "the worst of the top six in terms of singing skills," but noted that she garnered the most audience votes. 　　　　What Li did possess was attitude, originality and a proud androgyny that defied Chinese norms. During the tryouts—in which 150,000 contestants were winnowed to 15—Li wore loose jeans and a black button-down shirt, with no make-up and the haircut (and body) of David Bowie during his Space Oddity phase. She auditioned with In My Heart There's Only You, Never Her, an oldie made famous by Taiwan's Liu Wenzheng—a man. In the main competition she sang other songs written for male performers and called herself "a tomboy." For an audience reared on the bubble-gum, lip-gloss standards of Chinese girl pop, Li's disregard for the rule book produced an unfamiliar knee-weakening. Her fans wept openly and frantically shrieked when Li took the stage. The show ruffled feathers among Beijing's commissars. By the final episode, Li and her two remaining rivals had switched their repertoire to patriotic folk songs. 　　　

  　Li's victory was unusual in other ways: like American Idol, but unlike China itself, "Super Girl's Voice" is run democratically. Eight million SMS votes flooded in on the night of the finale. For a few weeks after, the mainland press debated the relevance of this format. "Only something that smashes social norms could elicit such a response," Yu Guoming, a media expert at People's University, told the Beijing News. "After all, in China the opportunities to use votes to choose are relatively few." An editorial in the China Daily wondered: "How come an imitation of a democratic system ends up selecting the singer who has the least ability to carry a tune?" As Li prepares for a nationwide tour with the other finalists, her handlers are loath to discuss the political dimensions of the program or of Li's triumph. Hunan Entertainment Channel refused TIME's requests to interview or photograph Li. According to one of her many agents, they were worried the story would portray Li as more than just an entertainer. But she is more: Li represents unabashed individuality, and that's why she's a national icon.