这个高三小姑娘给人的感觉很不一样。她身上有一种强大的自信，没有任何东西可以阻拦她的梦想。
杨栎
杨栎初中毕业于世界外国语中学，现为上海复旦附中高三学生。从中国最大的城市上海，到即将求学的美国最大的城市纽约，她始终跟随着自己的梦想——那个比任何客观事物都重要的追寻，走着自己的路。
从小受到的西方思想让一个模糊的美国梦扎在她的心里。她的英语天赋是很多人望尘莫及的，几乎所有第一次听她开口说英语的人都会忍不住问她在美国呆了多久。以至于她的新托福分数出来之后，她的同学都奇怪为什么不是满分120分，她也为109的“低分”纳闷儿了一阵。
联合国总部在她最喜欢的纽约，而杨栎与联合国的缘分从她刚踏进高中校门就开始了。她参加过10余次模拟联合国大会活动，担任了近两年的模联学生辅导员。她代表学校参加了全国中学生模拟联合国大会，正因为这次活动中她和团队的优秀表现，她代表全中国参加了第七届在纽约联合国总部举办的世界中学生模拟联合国大会。后来的一年多当中，又三次参加校、区级的模拟联合国大会的策划、文件审阅、主席团工作。在2007年复旦大学国际中学生模拟联合国大会中，杨栎更是升级为模拟联大精英会场的流程总设计者。杨栎说，她感谢一切周围的人。初、高中老师对她的恩惠才有她今天的干练；父母一直以来的平常心让她自由地实现梦想。而梦想，正是她这一路走来的始终信念。
杨栎申请NYU是走了11月1日截止的提前录取类别中的ED程序，就是学校一旦要你，就一定要去，不准在申请其他大学了。Early Decision 只准申请一所大学，并对其"忠实"，这反映了她的目标非常明确。
以下是杨栎同学用英文写的她跟纽约的缘分，和她的NYU情结。
Hesitantly I rose from the seat, panicky, scanning the typographic printings before me as quickly as possible. The scene, for a meticulously timid twelve-year-old girl, was so routinely familiar. English teacher, Elaine, had just called on me to do a little oral interpretation.
"New York is famous for its enormous skyscrapers rising up like cliffs, it is often called a 'Standing city'." I started the job with trips. It did not come out the way I'd anticipated. It was an awkward job after all, converting those Latin letters into an oriental language at such short notice.
My heartbeat gradually returned to normal. The part that followed the opening sentence was vague to me now for its numerical introductory nature. I did the work with almost no elaboration and hoped to come across such remark as 'And that is it, New York City.' I didn't care if the World Trade Center was '110 storied and 412 meters high.'
Quote: [All the skyscrapers are hard and bare, but they give one a feeling of power and have a cold hard beauty. At night, the hardness of the daytime is softened, and the scene becomes a 20-th century fairyland. It is a land of opportunity where every dedicated man can succeed.]
Long pause. Something chocked my words - although the literalness was brightly obvious, not at all convoluted - I found it hard to match them directly with my own expression. A rush of thrill and ecstasy engined my mental picture of the 'Plaza with neon lights', as I put it, I recalled the image from TV, faintly visible, of lights in streams, enabled by the kind of photographic technique that prolongs the exposure time. People walk assiduously, as if walking is their very purpose. The big screen that displays the NASDAQ figure, which might carry a grave depression, uplifts the heartbeat rate from worldwide.
I assumed the picture was the author's connotation; it was the very illustration of the 'feeling of power' and the 'cold hard beauty'. I poured out my own thoughts of the paragraph, not literal translation, not the rush to the closing remark. It was the depiction of the picture in front of my eyes. The American spirit I sensed, at least, on some dim level, revised my being nervous into the teeming identification with the author and helped complete the task.
'Well done. Would you like to go there sometime Lily?' Elaine asked routinely.
'I'm already there.' I didn't really know how that came up.
It was a typical morning but the reading passage opened a new dimension - though I'd heard of the crown of 'the center of universe', though I could recognize the American nature of the Statue of Liberty instead of a British one - it was the time I looked at the United States differently.
What saw me through the frustration and despair in the next few years was my dim understanding of the saying 'land of opportunity where every dedicated man can succeed.' The motto, as I grew up, spurred me into action. Every step seemed smooth going until the day my SAT scores were in.
Catastrophically, the four-digit number tears down the Brooklyn Bridge when I'm on my way to Manhattan; it sinks the ferry when I'm approaching the Ellis Island; it had me wave bye-bye to my dream; it makes colleges frown though people would say it's not decisive..
'Drop it, it's over.' It as well popped that out of me.
The American dream drifted away from me and I asserted its permanent take off until the day I ran into a newspaper report titled 'New York: Spring up in Ruins'.
Quote:[Ironically, the 911 attack, with a pure intention to devastate the city, actually is rescuing it from its sway in the ebb and flow. The catastrophe, though cracked up the heart zone of world economy, built a spiritual beacon light in all American people and empowered them to stand up again. New York commences with the rediscovery of its own value and that of its revival.]
It takes courage to get over griefs and plunge into the reconstruction and the Americans made it. The playback of the scenery, the one I saw as I walked out from the subway World Trade Center station, started itself. Across the street from the site was a small graveyard commemorating those anonymous whose lives ceased in the raid. On the site of the remains were cranes, moving slowly. They were overlooking the heroes, telling them firmly: Rest in Peace bros, we've moved on.
That is the exact spirit profoundly rooted in the American dream!
Americans found a way to stand up from the grave disaster and move on. Maybe I could choose NOT to let the score leave me the only alternative of abandoning my childhood dream.
Why not take a shot?
I closed my eyes with relief. In the far distance, the Hudson River fades in to the sky. Just off the horizon, a tiny statue stands firmly into the glittering water. She embraces all who seek shelter with her warm flames and provides those with illumination of the unknowns ahead
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