Questões de Inglês

THE INSIDE STORY

[1] I live in the storytelling capital of the world. I tell

stories for a living. You’re probably familiar with many

of my films, from Rain Man and Batman to Midnight

Express to Gorillas in the Mist to this year’s The Kids

[5] Are All Right.

But in four decades in the movie business, I’ve

come to see that stories are not only for the big

screen, Shakespearean plays, and John Grisham

novels. I’ve come to see that they are far more than

[10] entertainment. They are the most effective form of

human communication, more powerful than any other

way of packaging information. And telling purposeful

stories is certainly the most efficient means of

persuasion in everyday life, the most effective

[15] way of translating ideas into action, whether you’re

green-lighting a $90 million film project, motivating

employees to meet an important deadline, or getting

your kids through a crisis.

PowerPoint presentations may be powered by

[20] state-of-the-art technology. But reams of data rarely

engage people to move them to action. Stories, on

the other hand, are state-of-the-heart technology—

they connect us to others. They provide emotional

transportation, moving people to take action on

[25] your cause because they can very quickly come

to psychologically identify with the characters in a

narrative or share an experience—courtesy of the

images evoked in the telling.

Equally important, they turn the audience/

[30] listeners into viral advocates of the proposition,

whether in life or in business, by paying the story—not

just the information—forward.

Stories, unlike straight-up information, can

change our lives because they directly involve us,

[35] bringing us into the inner world of the protagonist. As I

tell the students in one of my UCLA graduate courses,

Navigating a Narrative World, without stories not only

would we not likely have survived as a species, we

couldn’t understand ourselves. They provoke our

[40] memory and give us the framework for much of our

understanding. They also reflect the way the brain

works. While we think of stories as fluff, accessories

to information, something extraneous to real work,

they turn out to be the cornerstone of consciousness.

[45] Much of what I know about narrative and its

power I learned over the course of working in the

entertainment industry. In the early 1980s, I was

chairman of PolyGram Filmed Entertainment as well

as a producer at that studio. I was pitched a movie to

[50] finance and distribute based on a book then titled The

Execution of Charles Horman. It told the true story of

Ed Horman, Charles’s father, a politically conservative

American who goes to South America in search of his

missing journalist son. Ed joins with his daughter-

[55] inlaw Beth, who, like her husband, is politically polarized

from the father, in prying through bureaucracy and

dangerous government intrigue in search of their son

and husband. Gradually, the father comes to realize

his own government is concealing the truth.

[60] Although the project had enlisted a great

filmmaker—Oscar winner Costa Gavras (for the

thriller Z)—I didn’t find it compelling. A Latin American

revolution was a tough sell for a commercial American

film, along with the story of a father who had no

[65] relationship with his son and the fact that you already

knew the ending: the son is dead without the father

ever finding him. This story was dead on arrival as an

investment.

Out of courtesy, I met with the father, who knew

[70] I was not a fan. After a few polite introductions,

he nodded to some pictures of my then-teenage

daughters on my bookcase. “Do you really know your

children?” he asked. “Really know them?” He went on

to tell me a story—that the search for his son was

[75] more a search for who he was than where he was,

because he always suspected he was dead. But the

journey was a revelation, not least about the many

values father and son in fact shared. It was a love

story, not a death story.

[80] His telling engaged me in a unique personal

way, emotionally transporting me into the search for

his child, and it made me wonder whether I really

knew my daughters, their values and beliefs, their

hopes and dreams. If the writer could focus the film

[85] as a love story/thriller and an actor could engage

those emotions and pique those questions, and the

film could be executed to get critical acclaim, it really

might be worth backing.

By Peter Guber

Adapted from Psychology Today – March 15, 2011 http://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/201103/the-inside-story Retrieved on August 15, 2011.

THE INSIDE STORY

[1] I live in the storytelling capital of the world. I tell

stories for a living. You’re probably familiar with many

of my films, from Rain Man and Batman to Midnight

Express to Gorillas in the Mist to this year’s The Kids

[5] Are All Right.

But in four decades in the movie business, I’ve

come to see that stories are not only for the big

screen, Shakespearean plays, and John Grisham

novels. I’ve come to see that they are far more than

[10] entertainment. They are the most effective form of

human communication, more powerful than any other

way of packaging information. And telling purposeful

stories is certainly the most efficient means of

persuasion in everyday life, the most effective

[15] way of translating ideas into action, whether you’re

green-lighting a $90 million film project, motivating

employees to meet an important deadline, or getting

your kids through a crisis.

PowerPoint presentations may be powered by

[20] state-of-the-art technology. But reams of data rarely

engage people to move them to action. Stories, on

the other hand, are state-of-the-heart technology—

they connect us to others. They provide emotional

transportation, moving people to take action on

[25] your cause because they can very quickly come

to psychologically identify with the characters in a

narrative or share an experience—courtesy of the

images evoked in the telling.

Equally important, they turn the audience/

[30] listeners into viral advocates of the proposition,

whether in life or in business, by paying the story—not

just the information—forward.

Stories, unlike straight-up information, can

change our lives because they directly involve us,

[35] bringing us into the inner world of the protagonist. As I

tell the students in one of my UCLA graduate courses,

Navigating a Narrative World, without stories not only

would we not likely have survived as a species, we

couldn’t understand ourselves. They provoke our

[40] memory and give us the framework for much of our

understanding. They also reflect the way the brain

works. While we think of stories as fluff, accessories

to information, something extraneous to real work,

they turn out to be the cornerstone of consciousness.

[45] Much of what I know about narrative and its

power I learned over the course of working in the

entertainment industry. In the early 1980s, I was

chairman of PolyGram Filmed Entertainment as well

as a producer at that studio. I was pitched a movie to

[50] finance and distribute based on a book then titled The

Execution of Charles Horman. It told the true story of

Ed Horman, Charles’s father, a politically conservative

American who goes to South America in search of his

missing journalist son. Ed joins with his daughter-

[55] inlaw Beth, who, like her husband, is politically polarized

from the father, in prying through bureaucracy and

dangerous government intrigue in search of their son

and husband. Gradually, the father comes to realize

his own government is concealing the truth.

[60] Although the project had enlisted a great

filmmaker—Oscar winner Costa Gavras (for the

thriller Z)—I didn’t find it compelling. A Latin American

revolution was a tough sell for a commercial American

film, along with the story of a father who had no

[65] relationship with his son and the fact that you already

knew the ending: the son is dead without the father

ever finding him. This story was dead on arrival as an

investment.

Out of courtesy, I met with the father, who knew

[70] I was not a fan. After a few polite introductions,

he nodded to some pictures of my then-teenage

daughters on my bookcase. “Do you really know your

children?” he asked. “Really know them?” He went on

to tell me a story—that the search for his son was

[75] more a search for who he was than where he was,

because he always suspected he was dead. But the

journey was a revelation, not least about the many

values father and son in fact shared. It was a love

story, not a death story.

[80] His telling engaged me in a unique personal

way, emotionally transporting me into the search for

his child, and it made me wonder whether I really

knew my daughters, their values and beliefs, their

hopes and dreams. If the writer could focus the film

[85] as a love story/thriller and an actor could engage

those emotions and pique those questions, and the

film could be executed to get critical acclaim, it really

might be worth backing.

By Peter Guber

Adapted from Psychology Today – March 15, 2011 http://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/201103/the-inside-story Retrieved on August 15, 2011.

Why French Parents Are Superior (in One Way)

By Karen Le Billon

[1] Consider this: Our children are three times more likely to be overweight than French

children. In fact, we lead the world in producing overweight children, but the French

have one of the lowest rates of overweight children in the developed world.

The causes of obesity are complex, but what we eat is undoubtedly a factor. Because of

[5] poor eating habits, the current generation of American children will suffer far more

health problems — and perhaps have a shorter life expectancy — than their parents. We

may be teaching our kids to eat themselves into an early grave.

The reason lies in how we teach our kids to eat. I say this from personal experience:

together with our two daughters we’ve divided our time between France and North

[10] America for the better part of two decades. Our daughters have been in school and

daycare — and I’ve taught in universities — in both places. So I’ve seen French

children in action from cradle to college.

French parents teach their children to eat like we teach our kids to read: with love,

patience and firm persistence they expose their children to a wide variety of tastes,

[15] flavors and textures that are the building blocks of a varied, healthy diet. Pediatricianrecommended

first foods for French babies are leek soup, endive, spinach and beets (not

bland rice cereal — have you ever tasted that stuff?). They teach their children that

“good for you foods” taste good (broccoli – yum!), whereas we often do the opposite.

The result is a nation of healthy eaters: 6 million French children sit down every day

[20] to school lunches featuring dishes like cauliflower casserole, baked endive, beet salad

and broccoli. Vending machines and fast food are banned, and flavored milk is not an

option. To introduce kids to a wide variety of foods, no dish can be repeated more than

once per month. Food for thought.

French children are also trained to think about how to eat. The French won’t ask a child,

[25] for example, “Are you full,” but rather “Are you still hungry” — a very different

feeling. This is one example of French Food Rules (as I call them): codified common

sense based in a rich food culture, backed up by a century of science.

Another example: French kids snack only once a day. France’s official food guide

emphatically recommends no snacking, and TV snack food ads carry a banner (much

[30] like cigarettes) warning that snacking between meals is bad for your health. Snacking,

the French feel, creates unregulated eating habits that are difficult to change later in life.

Given that our increased calorie consumption over the past 20 years has come largely

from snacking, they may have a point.

Just in case you were wondering, diets for French children are relatively rare; few of

[35] them need it. Nor are they deprived of treats: “food is fun” is the Golden Rule of French

eating. 􀀀Moderation, not deprivation — along with viewing food as a source of

pleasure, a fun family adventure — is the core of French food culture. The French

worry less about nutrients and calories, and instead concentrate on teaching their

children to love food; c’est normal!, given that food is one of life’s great shared

[40] pleasures.

We saw the results in our own family during the year we lived in France. Our children

went from being absurdly picky eaters to loving many vegetables, from beets and

broccoli to creamed spinach. They, in turn, inspired me to change the way I ate. When

we’re not living in France, we continue (and adapt) the French approach to eating. This

[45] doesn’t mean we need to eat French food. Rather, we’ve learned some useful life

lessons about how and why to eat.

So we don’t need to parent like the French. But we should be asking ourselves what

we could learn from them about children and food. It’s a conversation worth having,

because a lot is at stake.

Karen Le Billon is the author of French Children Eat Everything. April 13, 2012, 10:22 AM

Why French Parents Are Superior (in One Way)

By Karen Le Billon

[1] Consider this: Our children are three times more likely to be overweight than French

children. In fact, we lead the world in producing overweight children, but the French

have one of the lowest rates of overweight children in the developed world.

The causes of obesity are complex, but what we eat is undoubtedly a factor. Because of

[5] poor eating habits, the current generation of American children will suffer far more

health problems — and perhaps have a shorter life expectancy — than their parents. We

may be teaching our kids to eat themselves into an early grave.

The reason lies in how we teach our kids to eat. I say this from personal experience:

together with our two daughters we’ve divided our time between France and North

[10] America for the better part of two decades. Our daughters have been in school and

daycare — and I’ve taught in universities — in both places. So I’ve seen French

children in action from cradle to college.

French parents teach their children to eat like we teach our kids to read: with love,

patience and firm persistence they expose their children to a wide variety of tastes,

[15] flavors and textures that are the building blocks of a varied, healthy diet. Pediatrician-

recommended first foods for French babies are leek soup, endive, spinach and beets (not

bland rice cereal — have you ever tasted that stuff?). They teach their children that

“good for you foods” taste good (broccoli – yum!), whereas we often do the opposite.

The result is a nation of healthy eaters: 6 million French children sit down every day

[20] to school lunches featuring dishes like cauliflower casserole, baked endive, beet salad

and broccoli. Vending machines and fast food are banned, and flavored milk is not an

option. To introduce kids to a wide variety of foods, no dish can be repeated more than

once per month. Food for thought.

French children are also trained to think about how to eat. The French won’t ask a child,

[25] for example, “Are you full,” but rather “Are you still hungry” — a very different

feeling. This is one example of French Food Rules (as I call them): codified common

sense based in a rich food culture, backed up by a century of science.

Another example: French kids snack only once a day. France’s official food guide

emphatically recommends no snacking, and TV snack food ads carry a banner (much

[30] like cigarettes) warning that snacking between meals is bad for your health. Snacking,

the French feel, creates unregulated eating habits that are difficult to change later in life.

Given that our increased calorie consumption over the past 20 years has come largely

from snacking, they may have a point.

Just in case you were wondering, diets for French children are relatively rare; few of

[35] them need it. Nor are they deprived of treats: “food is fun” is the Golden Rule of French

eating. 􀀀Moderation, not deprivation — along with viewing food as a source of

pleasure, a fun family adventure — is the core of French food culture. The French

worry less about nutrients and calories, and instead concentrate on teaching their

children to love food; c’est normal!, given that food is one of life’s great shared

[40] pleasures.

We saw the results in our own family during the year we lived in France. Our children

went from being absurdly picky eaters to loving many vegetables, from beets and

broccoli to creamed spinach. They, in turn, inspired me to change the way I ate. When

we’re not living in France, we continue (and adapt) the French approach to eating. This

[45] doesn’t mean we need to eat French food. Rather, we’ve learned some useful life

lessons about how and why to eat.

So we don’t need to parent like the French. But we should be asking ourselves what

we could learn from them about children and food. It’s a conversation worth having,

because a lot is at stake.

Karen Le Billon is the author of French Children Eat Everything. April 13, 2012, 10:22 AM

Why French Parents Are Superior (in One Way)

By Karen Le Billon

[1] Consider this: Our children are three times more likely to be overweight than French

children. In fact, we lead the world in producing overweight children, but the French

have one of the lowest rates of overweight children in the developed world.

The causes of obesity are complex, but what we eat is undoubtedly a factor. Because of

[5] poor eating habits, the current generation of American children will suffer far more

health problems — and perhaps have a shorter life expectancy — than their parents. We

may be teaching our kids to eat themselves into an early grave.

The reason lies in how we teach our kids to eat. I say this from personal experience:

together with our two daughters we’ve divided our time between France and North

[10] America for the better part of two decades. Our daughters have been in school and

daycare — and I’ve taught in universities — in both places. So I’ve seen French

children in action from cradle to college.

French parents teach their children to eat like we teach our kids to read: with love,

patience and firm persistence they expose their children to a wide variety of tastes,

[15] flavors and textures that are the building blocks of a varied, healthy diet. Pediatricianrecommended

first foods for French babies are leek soup, endive, spinach and beets (not

bland rice cereal — have you ever tasted that stuff?). They teach their children that

“good for you foods” taste good (broccoli – yum!), whereas we often do the opposite.

The result is a nation of healthy eaters: 6 million French children sit down every day

[20] to school lunches featuring dishes like cauliflower casserole, baked endive, beet salad

and broccoli. Vending machines and fast food are banned, and flavored milk is not an

option. To introduce kids to a wide variety of foods, no dish can be repeated more than

once per month. Food for thought.

French children are also trained to think about how to eat. The French won’t ask a child,

[25] for example, “Are you full,” but rather “Are you still hungry” — a very different

feeling. This is one example of French Food Rules (as I call them): codified common

sense based in a rich food culture, backed up by a century of science.

Another example: French kids snack only once a day. France’s official food guide

emphatically recommends no snacking, and TV snack food ads carry a banner (much

[30] like cigarettes) warning that snacking between meals is bad for your health. Snacking,

the French feel, creates unregulated eating habits that are difficult to change later in life.

Given that our increased calorie consumption over the past 20 years has come largely

from snacking, they may have a point.

Just in case you were wondering, diets for French children are relatively rare; few of

[35] them need it. Nor are they deprived of treats: “food is fun” is the Golden Rule of French

eating. 􀀀Moderation, not deprivation — along with viewing food as a source of

pleasure, a fun family adventure — is the core of French food culture. The French

worry less about nutrients and calories, and instead concentrate on teaching their

children to love food; c’est normal!, given that food is one of life’s great shared

[40] pleasures.

We saw the results in our own family during the year we lived in France. Our children

went from being absurdly picky eaters to loving many vegetables, from beets and

broccoli to creamed spinach. They, in turn, inspired me to change the way I ate. When

we’re not living in France, we continue (and adapt) the French approach to eating. This

[45] doesn’t mean we need to eat French food. Rather, we’ve learned some useful life

lessons about how and why to eat.

So we don’t need to parent like the French. But we should be asking ourselves what

we could learn from them about children and food. It’s a conversation worth having,

because a lot is at stake.

Karen Le Billon is the author of French Children Eat Everything. April 13, 2012, 10:22 AM

Why French Parents Are Superior (in One Way)

By Karen Le Billon

[1] Consider this: Our children are three times more likely to be overweight than French

children. In fact, we lead the world in producing overweight children, but the French

have one of the lowest rates of overweight children in the developed world.

The causes of obesity are complex, but what we eat is undoubtedly a factor. Because of

[5] poor eating habits, the current generation of American children will suffer far more

health problems — and perhaps have a shorter life expectancy — than their parents. We

may be teaching our kids to eat themselves into an early grave.

The reason lies in how we teach our kids to eat. I say this from personal experience:

together with our two daughters we’ve divided our time between France and North

[10] America for the better part of two decades. Our daughters have been in school and

daycare — and I’ve taught in universities — in both places. So I’ve seen French

children in action from cradle to college.

French parents teach their children to eat like we teach our kids to read: with love,

patience and firm persistence they expose their children to a wide variety of tastes,

[15] flavors and textures that are the building blocks of a varied, healthy diet. Pediatricianrecommended

first foods for French babies are leek soup, endive, spinach and beets (not

bland rice cereal — have you ever tasted that stuff?). They teach their children that

“good for you foods” taste good (broccoli – yum!), whereas we often do the opposite.

The result is a nation of healthy eaters: 6 million French children sit down every day

[20] to school lunches featuring dishes like cauliflower casserole, baked endive, beet salad

and broccoli. Vending machines and fast food are banned, and flavored milk is not an

option. To introduce kids to a wide variety of foods, no dish can be repeated more than

once per month. Food for thought.

French children are also trained to think about how to eat. The French won’t ask a child,

[25] for example, “Are you full,” but rather “Are you still hungry” — a very different

feeling. This is one example of French Food Rules (as I call them): codified common

sense based in a rich food culture, backed up by a century of science.

Another example: French kids snack only once a day. France’s official food guide

emphatically recommends no snacking, and TV snack food ads carry a banner (much

[30] like cigarettes) warning that snacking between meals is bad for your health. Snacking,

the French feel, creates unregulated eating habits that are difficult to change later in life.

Given that our increased calorie consumption over the past 20 years has come largely

from snacking, they may have a point.

Just in case you were wondering, diets for French children are relatively rare; few of

[35] them need it. Nor are they deprived of treats: “food is fun” is the Golden Rule of French

eating. 􀀀Moderation, not deprivation — along with viewing food as a source of

pleasure, a fun family adventure — is the core of French food culture. The French

worry less about nutrients and calories, and instead concentrate on teaching their

children to love food; c’est normal!, given that food is one of life’s great shared

[40] pleasures.

We saw the results in our own family during the year we lived in France. Our children

went from being absurdly picky eaters to loving many vegetables, from beets and

broccoli to creamed spinach. They, in turn, inspired me to change the way I ate. When

we’re not living in France, we continue (and adapt) the French approach to eating. This

[45] doesn’t mean we need to eat French food. Rather, we’ve learned some useful life

lessons about how and why to eat.

So we don’t need to parent like the French. But we should be asking ourselves what

we could learn from them about children and food. It’s a conversation worth having,

because a lot is at stake.

Karen Le Billon is the author of French Children Eat Everything. April 13, 2012, 10:22 AM