---译评2025年高考新课标英语Ⅱ卷读后续写

【短评】本文体现文化自信与包容互鉴的价值观，突出跨文化语境下的应变与表达能力，彰显文化解码与主动建构的素养，展示国际教育场景中微观文化碰撞的典型情境。其社会意义在于揭示：文化隔阂常始于符号认知差异，而消解之道在于以开放姿态诠释文化密码。启示在于：当个体不再将名字视为语言符号，而作为文化载体主动阐释时，便能将 “发音困境” 转化为 “理解契机”，让不同文化在具象化的交流中实现情感共振。

【英汉对照】

“What is your name?” is a question most frequently asked when people meet for the first time. But for me, it was the first challenge I encountered as an international student in Ireland. “你叫什么名字？” 是人们初次见面时最常问的问题。但对我而言，这却是我在爱尔兰作为国际学生遇到的第一个挑战。

The pronunciation system of the Chinese language is quite different from that of English. For native speakers of English, some Chinese words are rather difficult to pronounce. My given name Qiuyu (秋雨), for instance, happened to be a great challenge for many of them. Every time I gave a self-introduction, I had to explain how to pronounce my name at least five times, yet they still could not say it the way I did. 汉语的发音体系与英语大相径庭。对英语母语者来说，一些中文词汇相当难念。比如我的名 “秋雨”（Qiuyu），就成了许多人眼中的一大挑战。每次自我介绍时，我都得至少解释五遍名字的发音，可他们依旧无法念出我所说的那种腔调。

Once in a lecture, the professor tried repeating my name after me over and over in front of thirty classmates. I really did not know whether I should continue correcting him or simply drop the matter. I feared that my classmates might grow tired of my efforts or even lose patience with me. After all, I did care about how others would think of me. I realized that if I didn't stop, the entire lecture would be ruined. “It's okay, professor,” I shrugged (耸肩). The awkward moment ended with the class erupting into laughter. I forced a smile, unsure how to respond further. 有一次在课堂上，教授当着三十位同学的面，一遍又一遍地跟着我重复我的名字。我真的不知道是该继续纠正他，还是干脆就此打住。我担心同学们会厌倦我的坚持，甚至对我失去耐心。毕竟，我很在意别人如何看待我。我意识到如果不停止，整堂课都将被破坏。“没关系的，教授。” 我耸耸肩说。这个尴尬的时刻以全班哄堂大笑告终。我勉强挤出一个微笑，不知该如何继续回应。

After that incident, I stopped acting as a “Chinese teacher.” Instead of correcting others when they were struggling to pronounce my name, I just smiled and nodded approvingly. This approach spared me the discomfort of having to over-explain. However, I soon found that by doing so, I might be losing something more important: the opportunity to share a small part of my cultural identity. 在那之后，我不再充当 “中文老师”。当别人费力拼读我的名字时，我不再纠正，只是微笑着点头认可。这种方式让我免于过度解释的不适。但我很快发现，这样做可能会让我失去更重要的东西：分享自己文化身份一小部分的机会。

In a class discussion, I was invited to explain the meaning of my name. Standing before my classmates, I took a deep breath. “My name is Qiuyu. ‘Qiu’ means autumn, a season of harvest and poetic scenery in China. ‘Yu’ stands for rain, which brings vitality and renewal,” I explained, my voice steady. As I spoke, I noticed the curious gazes fixed on me, no longer filled with the awkwardness of mispronunciation, but with genuine interest. Some classmates nodded slowly, as if savoring the beauty of the words. For the first time, I felt the power of my name, not as a source of embarrassment, but as a window into my cultural roots. When I finished, there was a moment of silence, followed by warm applause.  在一次课堂讨论中，我被邀请解释名字的含义。站在同学们面前，我深吸一口气。“我的名字是秋雨。‘秋’意味着秋天，在中国这是一个丰收且充满诗意的季节。‘雨’代表雨水，它带来生机与更新。” 我解释道，声音沉稳。说话时，我注意到好奇的目光聚焦在我身上，不再充满发音错误的尴尬，而是带着真切的兴趣。有些同学缓缓点头，仿佛在品味这些文字的美感。我第一次感受到自己名字的力量 —— 它不再是尴尬的来源，而是一扇通往文化根源的窗口。当我说完，现场沉默了片刻，随后响起热烈的掌声。

Many of my classmates got interested and came up to me after class. “Your name is so elegant! It makes me think of those ancient Chinese poems about autumn rain,” one classmate said, her eyes shining. Another boy asked, “Could you teach me to write your name in Chinese? I want to keep this beauty.” Surrounded by their enthusiasm, I felt a surge of pride. I took out a piece of paper, carefully writing “秋雨” and explaining the strokes. As I taught them, we laughed, chatted, and shared stories—about my hometown’s autumn rains, about the cultural significance of names in China. In that moment, the distance between us melted away. I realized that my name, once a source of discomfort, had become a bridge, connecting me with my classmates in a way I never imagined. And from then on, whenever they called “Qiuyu”, it was with a pronunciation closer to the true sound, and a heart full of respect for the culture behind it. 许多同学产生了兴趣，下课后纷纷走到我面前。“你的名字太优雅了！它让我想到那些描写秋雨的中国古诗。” 一位同学说，眼里闪着光。另一个男孩问：“你能教我用中文写你的名字吗？我想留住这份美好。” 被他们的热情包围，我感到一股自豪感涌上心头。我拿出一张纸，仔细写下 “秋雨” 二字，并解释笔画。在教他们的过程中，我们笑着、聊着、分享着故事 —— 关于我家乡的秋雨，关于中国名字的文化意义。在那一刻，我们之间的距离消融了。我意识到，曾经让我不适的名字，已然成为一座桥梁，以我从未想象过的方式将我与同学们连接在一起。从那以后，每当他们喊 “秋雨” 时，发音已更接近本真，而心中也满是对其背后文化的尊重。