文書構思與美國政治正確的關係淺談（附範德堡文書題目分析）

前兩(liang) 天，同事問我一個(ge) 問題：美國的“政治正確”是什麽(me) 呢？

同學們(men) 可以看看下邊幾個(ge) 作者的內(nei) 容：

《美國的“政治正確”到底什麽(me) 意思？這篇文章告訴你答案》英語共讀

《“政治正確”到底是個(ge) 什麽(me) 鬼？！》巴塞電影

https://baijiahao.baidu***.com/s?id=1594548958256319410&wfr=spider&for=pc

《美國政治正確是什麽(me) 意思？》金聯財社

https://baijiahao.baidu***.com/s?id=1702185805520914533&wfr=spider&for=pc

《當“政治正確”成為(wei) 主流，我們(men) 隻能做一個(ge) “受害者”？》新京報書(shu) 評周刊，倪露撰文

https://www.douban.com/note/653730574/?_i=6952472Kalr-vU

簡言之，這四個(ge) 群體(ti) 1.黑人（泛指各少數族裔）；2.女性；3.宗教信仰；4.性少數群體(ti) 。如果不清楚在這些話題上該有的“正確”立場，就容易惹麻煩。

落腳到大學申請文書(shu) 的選材上，憑借過往的經驗來看，我們(men) 學生很少觸碰這四個(ge) 話題。

所以，靠一紙文書(shu) 踩到美國大學招生官的某種底線的概率是很低的。

那寫(xie) 什麽(me) 內(nei) 容有可能更“正確”呢？

審核文書(shu) 的人員除了專(zhuan) 門的招生官，某些學校還會(hui) 讓學院老師參與(yu) 到文書(shu) 審核的環節。

在《北美學術研究調研（NAASS）》中提到，政治氛圍偏重民主黨(dang) 的大學學院有：英語文學、社會(hui) 學、曆史、心理學、語言學、教育、以及藝術。

對政治態度的調查表明，政治自由主義(yi) 所關(guan) 注的議題一般包括但不限於(yu) ：政府在就業(ye) 方麵的責任、收入分配、環境保護；社會(hui) 自由主義(yi) 比較關(guan) 注：同性群體(ti) 權利、墮胎、以及婚外性行為(wei) 。

宗旨在於(yu) 追求社會(hui) 公正及保護弱勢群體(ti) 的權益。如果同學申請的學院是偏文科的上述學院，在文書(shu) 中可以透露出：格局大、視野長遠、關(guan) 注弱勢群體(ti) 等高尚理念。這樣的價(jia) 值觀容易同頻共振於(yu) 所申請的學院。

但是需要注意的是，同學需要對以上劃線所提的領域深入了解，並確實形成自己的想法之後，再考慮在文書(shu) 中談及。否則，不建議提及。因為(wei) 對於(yu) 這種在美國理念體(ti) 係中已經發展得非常成熟的話題，如果沒有充分了解而淺淺聊之，容易產(chan) 生反效果。

我們(men) 看一篇範德堡大學題目下涉及LGBT話題的學生範文。

Vanderbilt University values learning through contrasting points of view. We understand that our differences, and our respect for alternative views and voices, are our greatest source of strength. Please reflect on conversations you’ve had with people who have expressed viewpoints different from your own. How did these conversations/experiences influence you? Please provide your response in approximately 250 words.（400 max）

範德堡大學推崇在觀念碰撞中學習(xi) 。我們(men) 了解到差異、對不同觀點的尊重是我們(men) 最大的力量來源。請回想你和意見不同者的對話。這些對話、經曆對你產(chan) 生了什麽(me) 影響？

這是一個(ge) 中國LGBTQ申請人和他爸爸的一段對話，他們(men) 聊了什麽(me) 呢？

同學們(men) 可以看看。

“Why on earth do you have to volunteer at places like that?”

My dad spoke abruptly during our drive home.

I had just finished working at an LGBT-friendly bar, raising funds for an LGBT workplace diversity campaign. As I walked out smelling like tobacco and beer, his face stiffened. But I knew what angered him more was that I’d turned down a volunteering opportunity at the UN and chosen the Beijing LGBT Center, an NGO he deemed illegitimate.

“Because...” I began.

“I don’t want you to work there anymore.”

Dreadful silence prolonged in the car. I was devastated that he didn’t approve of the work I’d prided myself in.

But I didn’t tell him these things. I hadn’t (and haven’t) come out to him yet.

I love my father. He’s the superman who let me ride on his shoulders, who spent his savings on providing me the best education possible, and who cried when I told him I was lonely in boarding school.

But he didn’t want me volunteering at the bar. And I didn’t want to let him down.

So I compromised.

I never worked again at the bar. I could continue volunteering at the LGBT center, but not more than twice a week. And I should never discuss my work publicly.

As I gave in to my family’s wishes, my mind flashed back to my other queer activists who had not. A transgender woman, Qing, has a father who hasn’t spoken to her in ten years because she refuses to cut her long hair. Nana’s mother nearly disowned her because she married her girlfriend.

I’ve come to realize that activism isn’t just about marching in rainbow parades and running ambitious campaigns. It may involve conflicts with our loved ones who hold opposite beliefs. Upholding personal beliefs could lead to a broken family, and vice versa. There is not a right answer but only a matter of choice.

And that’s a painful lesson.