i can't even notice that the men's hands are still raised, and the women's hands are still raised, how good are we as managers of our companies and our organizations at seeing that the men are reaching for opportunitiesmore than women?" we've got to get women to sit at the table.message number two: make your partner a real partner. i've become convinced that we've made more progress in the workforce than we have in the home. the data shows this very clearly. if a woman and a man work full-time and have a child, the woman does twice the amount of housework the man does, and the woman does three times the amount of childcare the man does. so she's got three jobs or two jobs, and he's got one. who do you think drops out when someone needs to be home more? the causes of this are really complicated, and i don't have time to go into them. and i don't think sunday football-watching and general laziness is the cause.

ted演讲稿篇3

they know each other more in the biblical sense as well. message number three: don't leave before you leave. i think there's a really deep irony to the fact that actions women are taking — and i see this all the time — with the objective of staying in the workforceactually lead to their eventually leaving. here's what happens: we're all busy. everyone's busy. a woman's busy. and she starts thinking about having a child, and from the moment she starts thinking about having a child, she starts thinking about making room for that child. "how am i going to fit this into everything else i'm doing?" and literally from that moment, she doesn't raise her hand anymore, she doesn't look for a promotion, she doesn't take on the new project, she doesn't say, "me. i want to do that." she starts leaning back.

ted演讲稿篇4

i was one of the only kids in college who had a reason to go to thep.o. bo_ at the end of the day, and that was mainly because my mother has neverbelieved in email, in facebook, in te_ting or cell phones in general. and sowhile other kids were bbm-ing their parents, i was literally waiting by themailbo_ to get a letter from home to see how the weekend had gone, which was alittle frustrating when grandma was in the hospital, but i was just looking forsome sort of scribble, some unkempt cursive from my mother.

and so when i moved to new york city after college and got completelysucker-punched in the face by depression, i did the only thing i could think ofat the time. i wrote those same kinds of letters that my mother had written mefor strangers, and tucked them all throughout the city, dozens and dozens ofthem. i left them everywhere, in cafes and in libraries, at the u.n.,everywhere. i blogged about those letters and the days when they were necessary,and i posed a kind of crazy promise to the internet: that if you asked me for ahand-written letter, i would write you one, no questions asked. overnight, myinbo_ morphed into this harbor of heartbreak -- a single mother in sacramento, agirl being bullied in rural kansas, all asking me, a 22-year-old girl who barelyeven knew her own coffee order, to write them a love letter and give them areason to wait by the mailbo_.

well, today i fuel a global organization that is fueled by those trips tothe mailbo_, fueled by the ways in which we can harness social media like neverbefore to write and mail strangers letters when they need them most, but most ofall, fueled by crates of mail like this one, my trusty mail crate, filled withthe scriptings of ordinary people, strangers writing letters to other strangersnot because they're ever going to meet and laugh over a cup of coffee, butbecause they have found one another by way of letter-writing.

but, you know, the thing that always gets me about these letters is thatmost of them have been written by people that have never known themselves lovedon a piece of paper. they could not tell you about the ink of their own loveletters. they're the ones from my generation, the ones of us that have grown upinto a world where everything is paperless, and where some of our bestconversations have happened upon a screen. we have learned to diary our painonto facebook, and we speak swiftly in 140 characters or less.

but what if it's not about efficiency this time? i was on the subwayyesterday with this mail crate, which is a conversation starter, let me tellyou. if you ever need one, just carry one of these. (laughter) and a man juststared at me, and he was like, "well, why don't you use the internet?" and ithought, "well, sir, i am not a strategist, nor am i specialist. i am merely astoryteller." and so i could tell you about a woman whose husband has just comehome from afghanistan, and she is having a hard time unearthing this thingcalled conversation, and so she tucks love letters throughout the house as a wayto say, "come back to me. find me when you can." or a girl who decides that sheis going to leave love letters around her campus in dubuque, iowa, only to findher efforts ripple-effected the ne_t day when she walks out onto the quad andfinds love letters hanging from the trees, tucked in the bushes and the benches.or the man who decides that he is going to take his life, uses facebook as a wayto say goodbye to friends and family. well, tonight he sleeps safely with astack of letters just like this one tucked beneath his pillow, scripted bystrangers who were there for him when.

these are the kinds of stories that convinced me that letter-writing willnever again need to flip back her hair and talk about efficiency, because she isan art form now, all the parts of her, the signing, the scripting, the mailing,the doodles in the margins. the mere fact that somebody would even just sitdown, pull out a piece of paper and think about someone the whole way through,with an intention that is so much harder to unearth when the browser is up andthe iphone is pinging and we've got si_ conversations rolling in at once, thatis an art form that does not fall down to the goliath of "get faster," no matterhow many social networks we might join. we still clutch close these letters toour chest, to the words that speak louder than loud, when we turn pages intopalettes to say the things that we have needed to say, the words that we haveneeded to write, to sisters and brothers and even to strangers, for far toolong. thank you. (applause) (applause)

ted演讲稿篇5

let me start by thanking...

i'm very pleased to be here.

i'm very happy to have this opportunity to...

i feel great honored to be here.

it's a pleasure for me to share my experience with you all.

we have the great pleasure to have mr.president with us.

we are honored today to be joined by our distinguished guest,...

today i'd like to say something about...

well, the topic i'm going to deal with is...

i'm sure everybody is interested in... so i will share with you some...

ted演讲稿篇6

各位老师，各位同学，大家好。我是xx班的，今天我给大家演讲的主题是：抱怨不如改变自己。

在我们的生活中，总会遇到一些大大小小的挫折，有的时候，我们会用抱怨来发泄情绪，适当的抱怨当然可以缓解压力，但是过度的抱怨反而会给我们带来压力和抑郁。使得生活始终在灰色领域徘徊，在失去信心的恐惧中迷离。抱怨把我们丢到了世界的边缘，每一分钟都感觉会被世界抛弃。

很久之前，有一个年轻的农夫，划着小船，给另一个村子的居民-运送自家的农产品。那天的天气酷热难耐，农夫汗流浃背，苦不堪言。他心急火燎地划着小船，希望赶紧完成运送任务，以便在天黑之前能返回家中。突然，农夫发现，前面有一只小船，沿河而下，迎面向自己快速驶来。眼看两只船就要撞上了，但那只船并没有丝毫避让的意思，似乎是有意要撞翻农夫的小船。

“让开，快点让开！你这个白痴！”农夫大声地向对面喊道：“再不让开你就要撞上我了！”他的心里充满了说不完抱怨，但农夫的吼叫完全没用，尽管农夫手忙脚乱地企图让开水道，但为时已晚，那只船还是重重地撞上了他的船。农夫被激怒了，他厉声斥责道：“你会不会驾船，这么宽的河面，你竟然撞到了我的船上！”当农夫怒目审视对方小船时，他吃惊地发现，小船上空无一人。听他大呼小叫、厉声斥骂的只是一只挣脱了绳索、顺河漂流的空船。

其实，这不仅仅是一个故事，在多数情况下，当你抱怨的时候，你的听众或许只是一只空船。那个一再惹怒你的人，决不会因为你的抱怨和斥责而改变他的航向。

因此，抱怨的解决办法，就是改变。已故的音乐人迈克尔？杰克逊在他的音乐作品《镜中的你》中写到过“如果你要让这个世界更好，仔细地看看自己，然后改变自己。”

一个小孩子在父亲的葡萄酒厂看守橡木桶，每天早上，他用抹布将一个个木桶擦拭干净，然后一排排整齐地摆放好。令他生气的是：往往一夜之间，风就把他排列整齐的木桶吹得东倒西歪。于是小男孩子就一直想啊想啊，终于想到了一个好办法，他挑来一桶一桶的清水，然后，把它们倒进那些空空的橡木桶里，而后忐忑不安的回家了。

第二天一大早，小男孩就匆匆爬了起来，他跑到放桶的地方一看，那些木桶仍然排列得整整齐齐，没有一个被风吹倒或吹歪。小男孩的故事告诉我们，我们改变不了风，也可以说我们改变不了世界和社会上太多的东西，但是我们可能通过改变自己，给自己不断加重，那么，这样我们就可以征服一切了。

也许当我们在抱怨作业太多，没有时间休息的时候，有人会抓紧时间，把作业做完，腾出时间给自己；也许当我们抱怨老师批卷太严格，分数太低的时候，有人会在这个时候认真分析错题，为下一次的考试做好充分的准备。不要总是抱怨，其实大部分时候，问题是出在你自己身上。所以，与其埋怨环境，不如改变自我。就好比一块石头，有棱有角，从山坡滚下去势必头破血流，但如果是圆滑的鹅卵石，就顺利轻松多了。

鸭子只会“嘎嘎嘎”地抱怨，但是雄鹰只要经过磨练，就能在芸芸众生当中脱颖而出。希望大家都能成为一只雄鹰，用最美丽的风采，来迎接更美好的未来！

ted演讲稿篇7

good afternoon everyone:

my name is yu xiao feng. i’m twelve years old，i’m from zhongba primaryschool.

everyone has a dream，now i'll talk about my dream，what is my dream? i oftenask myself.

now i am a young girl with a new dream——to be a doctor. i want to be afamous doctor, helping the sick and saving their lives. why has my dreamchanged? well, at the age of 11 i was ill, badly ill. i had to leave both myschool and my friends and go to the hospital. every day i suffered the troublescaused by this illness.

i also saw some people who were suffering . i made up my mind to become adoctor, so that i can help the sick people and cure them of their diseases.

i want to try my best to help the poor treat an illness. i want to let themhave an opportunity to receive excel-lent treatments for their illnesses withouthaving to pay much or any money.

i'll do every bit to cure the incurable. i hope to see a world, where thereis no fatal diseases. i'm confident that through the joint efforts of you andme, man will put an end to his bodily sufferings and this dream of mine will oneday be brought into reality.

大家下午好：

我的名字是俞晓凤。我12岁了，我来自中坝小学。每个人都有一个梦想，现在我将谈论我的梦想，我的梦想是什么？我常常问自己。

现在我是一个年轻的女孩，一个新的梦想——成为一名医生。我想成为一名著名的医生，帮助病人和挽救他们的生命。为什么我的梦想改变了？在11岁的时候我病了，病得很重。我不得不离开我的学校都和我的朋友去医院，我每天都遭受病痛。

我也看到一些人受苦。我下定决心要成为一名医生，这样我可以帮助病人和他们治愈的疾病。

我想尽力帮助穷人治病。我想让他们有机会接受治疗他们的疾病，而不必支付多少钱。

我做的每一点都是为了治愈不治之症。我希望看到一个没有疾病的世界。我相信，通过我和你们的共同努力，人类将结束他的身体痛苦，我的梦想总有一天会实现。

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