杨粤祺 深圳中学高二(19)班

指导教师: Greg Robbins

"Girls don't rush. Girls stay quiet."

My mum used to tell me: "This is the Chinese way to be a good girl."

I believed her. Girls who spoke softly, walked slowly and listened to mums' advice, earned most compliments in my class.

But shortly after I heard her say it, I discovered that such compliments may just be a way of enforcing conformity.

I remember the day I started thinking this; it revolutionized my life. My mother felt she had lost control over her docile daughter. It was the day that somebody shot this photo for me.

We had gone to the beach, a secluded spot in Australia, where you could swim with dolphins. There, I saw those Australian kids -- boys and girls -- driving and doing everything that carefree youths should do.

The sight of them was alluring, even though I was too young to drive. But my biggest obstacle was not my age or ability, but receiving my mother's approval.

Chinese tradition was weighing on me. Children do not participate in risky activities, and girls do not engage in sports that belong to boys.

Still I persuaded my mum to let me try just once and promised that I would not exceed 15 km/h.

Soon I found myself in the driver's seat, controlling a pedal and a wheel in front of me, and followed the coach who assigned me the smallest car in the motorcade.

Although nervous, I gradually sped up, trying to catch the Australian kids. We proceeded along the beach, then reached a crossroads, disappearing from my mum's view.

That was when I felt the freedom of an unashamed tomboy, to determine the direction of my own path, and to feel a coastal breeze on my face, going much faster than my mum had allowed.

But pride comes before a fall. When driving down a hill, I lost control of my steering and crashed into a bush.

Luckily, the security equipment protected any injury and the coach pulled me out from the bush. I smiled to him, and decided to continue my journey as if nothing had happened.

When my mum finally saw me, my coach wanted to talk to her. But he spoke in a thick Australian accent and my mum barely understood a word.

"She was not afraid, even after she crashed," he said.

I was about to translate, then I thought better of it. She would have shouted, "You crashed? How dare you are to drive at such a speed! I'll never let you do such a stupid unladylike thing again!"

And even though I knew it was not good to lie to mum, nothing compared to the pure pleasure of trying something new. I was sure if I told her truth, she would never let me to try again.

"The coach said I was careful, though not skillful, but managed to protect myself anyway," I said.

From then on, the desire to do boyish things grew in me. When I stood up to a bully, when I decided to follow my star instead of take the career path that my parents had approved of, when I decided to visit Shanghai alone and refused to ask for extra money from my parents, this boyish spirit propelled me to proceed without fear.

Though the girl in the picture has long hair now and often wears a skirt, at heart she is a tomboy -- strong, brave and persistent, ready to face challenges and take risks.