I don’t want to talk about being a woman scientist again. There was a time in my life when people asked constantly for stories about what it’s like to work in a field dominated (controlled) by men. I was never very good at telling those stories because truthfully I never found them interesting. What I do find interesting is the origin of the universe, the shape of space, time and the nature of black holes.
At 19, when I began studying astrophysics(天体物理学), it did not bother me in the least to be the only woman in the classroom. But while earning my Ph.D. at MIT and then as a post-doctor doing space research, the issue started to bother me. My every achievement—jobs, research papers, awards—was viewed through the lens (镜片) of gender (性别) politics. So were my failures. Sometimes, when I was pushed into an argument on left brain versus (相对于) right brain, or nature versus nurture (培育), I would instantly fight fiercely on my behalf and all womankind.
Then one day a few years ago, out of my mouth came a sentence that would eventually become my reply to any and all provocations (挑衅) : I don’t talk about that anymore. It took me 10 years to get back the confidence I had at 19 and to realize that I didn’t want to deal with gender issues. Why should curing sexism be yet another terrible burden on every female scientist? After all, I don’t study sociology or political theory.
Today I research and teach at Barnard, a women’s college in New York City. Recently, someone asked me how many of the 45 students in my class were women. You cannot imagine my satisfaction at being able to answer, 45. I know some of my students worry how they will manage their scientific research and a desire for children. And I don’t dismiss those concerns. Still, I don’t tell them “war” stories. Instead, I have given them this: the visual of their physics professor heavily pregnant doing physics experiments. And in turn they have given me the image of 45 women driven by a love of science. And that’s a sight worth talking about.
【小题1】Why doesn’t the author want to talk about being a woman scientist again?

Four students are talking about the future after class.
Deng Yu:  In 2050, China will be richer than it is now. Beijing will be getting ready for the 40^th Olympic Games in 2050. We will see the blue and clear sky and smell the fresh air. There will be more pandas living happily in China. I believe that 2050 will be the year of China.
Liu Yan:  A holiday to the moon will no longer be a dream. We can also travel far to other planets and talk with spacemen. We might also eat something like pills instead of today’s meals. Everyone will enjoy a longer life.
Sun Wei:  Robots will be more popular. They will do what people don’t want to do. We’ll build new homes on other planets. By then, I’ll be sixty years old.
Zhang Lan:  By the year of 2050, cloning will have been used in many ways. It will bring back animals which disappeared many years ago. There will be no pollution. The whole world will be one big family. There will be no wars. We’ll live a much easier and better life.
【小题1】Which of the following is NOT true according to the text?

I don’t want to talk about being a woman scientist again. There was a time in my life when people asked constantly for stories about what it’s like to work in a field dominated (controlled) by men. I was never very good at telling those stories because truthfully I never found them interesting. What I do find interesting is the origin of the universe, the shape of space, time and the nature of black holes.

At 19, when I began studying astrophysics(天体物理学), it did not bother me in the least to be the only woman in the classroom. But while earning my Ph.D. at MIT and then as a post-doctor doing space research, the issue started to bother me. My every achievement—jobs, research papers, awards—was viewed through the lens (镜片) of gender (性别) politics. So were my failures. Sometimes, when I was pushed into an argument on left brain versus (相对于) right brain, or nature versus nurture (培育), I would instantly fight fiercely on my behalf and all womankind.

Then one day a few years ago, out of my mouth came a sentence that would eventually become my reply to any and all provocations (挑衅) : I don’t talk about that anymore. It took me 10 years to get back the confidence I had at 19 and to realize that I didn’t want to deal with gender issues. Why should curing sexism be yet another terrible burden on every female scientist? After all, I don’t study sociology or political theory.

Today I research and teach at Barnard, a women’s college in New York City. Recently, someone asked me how many of the 45 students in my class were women. You cannot imagine my satisfaction at being able to answer, 45. I know some of my students worry how they will manage their scientific research and a desire for children. And I don’t dismiss those concerns. Still, I don’t tell them “war” stories. Instead, I have given them this: the visual of their physics professor heavily pregnant doing physics experiments. And in turn they have given me the image of 45 women driven by a love of science. And that’s a sight worth talking about.

1.Why doesn’t the author want to talk about being a woman scientist again?

2.From Paragraph 2, we can infer that people would attribute (把…归因于) the author’s failures to ________.

3.What did the author constantly fight against while doing her Ph.D. and post-doctoral research?

A. Lack of confidence in succeeding in space science.

B. Unfair accusations from both inside and outside her circle.

C. People’s fixed attitude toward female scientists.

D. Widespread misconceptions about nature and nurtured.

4.What does the image the author presents to her students suggest?

I don’t want to talk about being a woman scientist again. There was a time in my life when people asked constantly for stories about what it’s like to work in a field dominated (controlled) by men. I was never very good at telling those stories because truthfully I never found them interesting. What I do find interesting is the origin of the universe, the shape of space, time and the nature of black holes.
At 19, when I began studying astrophysics(天体物理学), it did not bother me in the least to be the only woman in the classroom. But while earning my Ph.D. at MIT and then as a post-doctor doing space research, the issue started to bother me. My every achievement—jobs, research papers, awards—was viewed through the lens (镜片) of gender (性别) politics. So were my failures. Sometimes, when I was pushed into an argument on left brain versus (相对于) right brain, or nature versus nurture (培育), I would instantly fight fiercely on my behalf and all womankind.
Then one day a few years ago, out of my mouth came a sentence that would eventually become my reply to any and all provocations (挑衅) : I don’t talk about that anymore. It took me 10 years to get back the confidence I had at 19 and to realize that I didn’t want to deal with gender issues. Why should curing sexism be yet another terrible burden on every female scientist? After all, I don’t study sociology or political theory.
Today I research and teach at Barnard, a women’s college in New York City. Recently, someone asked me how many of the 45 students in my class were women. You cannot imagine my satisfaction at being able to answer, 45. I know some of my students worry how they will manage their scientific research and a desire for children. And I don’t dismiss those concerns. Still, I don’t tell them “war” stories. Instead, I have given them this: the visual of their physics professor heavily pregnant doing physics experiments. And in turn they have given me the image of 45 women driven by a love of science. And that’s a sight worth talking about.

1. 1.

   Why doesn’t the author want to talk about being a woman scientist again?

   1. A.
      She is fed up with the issue of gender discrimination (歧视).
   2. B.
      She feels unhappy working in male-dominated fields.
   3. C.
      She is not good at telling stories of the kind.
   4. D.
      She finds space research more important.
2. 2.

   From Paragraph 2, we can infer that people would attribute (把…归因于) the author’s failures to ________.

   1. A.
      the burden she bears in a male-dominated society
   2. B.
      her involvement in gender politics
   3. C.
      her over-confidence as a female astrophysicist
   4. D.
      the very fact that she is a woman
3. 3.

   What did the author constantly fight against while doing her Ph.D. and post-doctoral research?

   1. A.
      Lack of confidence in succeeding in space science.
   2. B.
      Unfair accusations from both inside and outside her circle.
   3. C.
      People’s fixed attitude toward female scientists.
   4. D.
      Widespread misconceptions about nature and nurtured.
4. 4.

   What does the image the author presents to her students suggest?

   1. A.
      Women students needn’t have the concerns of her generation.
   2. B.
      Women can balance a career in science and having a family.
   3. C.
      Women have more barriers on their way to academic success.
   4. D.
      Women now have fewer problems pursuing a science career.

I don’t ever want to talk about being a woman scientist again. There was a time in my life when people asked constantly for stories about what it’s like to work in a field dominated by men. I was never very good at telling those stories because truthfully I never found them interesting. What I do find interesting is the origin of the universe, the shape of space-time and the nature of black holes.

At 19, when I began studying astrophysics, it did not bother me in the least to be the only woman in the classroom. But while earning my Ph.D. at MIT and then as a post-doctor doing space research, the issue started to bother me. My every achievement—jobs, research papers, awards—was viewed through the lens of gender (性别) politics. So were my failures. Sometimes, when I was pushed into an argument on left brain versus (相对于) right brain, or nature versus nurture (培育), I would instantly fight fiercely on my behalf and all womankind.

Then one day a few years ago, out of my mouth came a sentence that would eventually become my reply to any and all provocations: I don’t talk about that anymore. It took me 10 years to get back the confidence I had at 19 and to realize that I didn’t want to deal with gender issues. Why should curing sexism be yet another terrible burden on every female scientist? After all, I don’t study sociology or political theory.

Today I research and teach at Barnard, a women’s college in New York City. Recently, someone asked me how may of the 45 students in my class were women. You cannot imagine my satisfaction at being able to answer, 45. I know some of my students worry how they will manage their scientific research and a desire for children. And I don’t dismiss those concerns. Still, I don’t tell them “war” stories. Instead, I have given them this: the visual of their physics professor heavily pregnant doing physics experiments. And in turn they have given me the image of 45 women driven by a love of science. And that’s a sight worth talking about.

Why doesn’t the author want to talk about being a woman scientist again?

A. She feels unhappy working in male-dominated fields.

B. She is fed up with the issue of gender discrimination.

C. She is not good at telling stories of the kind.

D. She finds space research more important.

   From Paragraph 2, we can infer that people would attribute the author’s failures to ________.

A. the very fact that she is a woman

B. her involvement in gender politics

C. her over-confidence as a female astrophysicist

D. the burden she bears in a male-dominated society

What did the author constantly fight against while doing her Ph.D. and post-doctoral research?

A. Lack of confidence in succeeding in space science.

B. Unfair accusations from both inside and outside her circle.

C. People’s stereotyped attitude toward female scientists.

D. Widespread misconceptions about nature and nurtured.

Why does the author feel great satisfaction when talking about her class?

A. Female students no longer have to bother about gender issues.

B. Her students’ performance has brought back her confidence.

C. Her female students can do just as well as male students.

D. More female students are pursuing science than before.

What does the image the author presents to her students suggest?

A. Women students needn’t have the concerns of her generation.

B. Women have more barriers on their way to academic success.

C. Women can balance a career in science and having a family.

D. Women now have fewer problems pursuing a science career.