英語主題經(jīng)典演講稿

　　演講稿是為了在會議或重要活動上表達自己意見、看法或匯報思想工作情況而事先準備好的文稿。在社會一步步向前發(fā)展的今天，演講稿應(yīng)用范圍愈來愈廣泛，那么一般演講稿是怎么寫的呢？以下是小編收集整理的英語主題經(jīng)典演講稿，僅供參考，大家一起來看看吧。

英語主題經(jīng)典演講稿1

　　今年暑假，我參加了由教體局組織的這次英語培訓(xùn)活動，我很榮幸的獲得了這次寶貴的提升專業(yè)素質(zhì)和業(yè)務(wù)素質(zhì)的機會，非常感謝領(lǐng)導(dǎo)給予我這次寶貴的學(xué)習(xí)機會，使我在英語水平、教學(xué)思想方面受益匪淺。

　　此次培訓(xùn)是由來自加拿大外教授課，實行小班教學(xué)。在培訓(xùn)期間，每天不同的主題，針對我們英語教學(xué)方法的介紹和指導(dǎo)，讓我們英語教師在培訓(xùn)中，掌握其實際應(yīng)用技巧。Gloria給我們營造一個純英語的學(xué)習(xí)環(huán)境，培養(yǎng)我們的英文慣性思維能力，我們在課堂上只講英語，每天都在一個全英文的環(huán)境中實踐與提高，這樣大腦每天不斷在接受英語的沖擊，再加上教師的耐心的指導(dǎo)，培養(yǎng)在與真正的'外國人自然交流的過程中形成的語言思維習(xí)慣。

　　還有，在外教課堂上，外教的肢體語言和面目表情是值得我們學(xué)習(xí)的，我們上了課之后，就感覺Gloria的課上得很活，她在課堂上時而唱歌，我們就隨之唱起來；她在課堂上時而跳舞，我們也隨之舞起來，這絲毫都沒有浪費我們的學(xué)習(xí)時間，而且在唱歌和跳舞中進行了英語交流，Gloria天天給我們的話題都是新鮮的，讓我們天天都有所期盼。這讓我們訓(xùn)練英語口語之余還學(xué)到了好多實用的教學(xué)方法。在培訓(xùn)的課堂上是沒有一句中文的，所有學(xué)員為了能聽懂外教的話并能與之交流，學(xué)習(xí)非�？炭啵�遇到生詞或查字典；或?qū)W員之間相互討論，共同思考；或比劃著向外教請教。每天寫的journal，讓我們的英語書寫也得到了飛速的提高。

　　其實，我們從Gloria那里不僅是鍛煉了英語口語與書寫，增長了西方文化常識，我們還學(xué)到了本國英語教師有待提高的東西，包括教法，授課方式，以及評價學(xué)生等等，都是讓我們大開眼界的，都是值得我們學(xué)習(xí)的。還有，這次培訓(xùn)給我印象最深的是外教們身上所具有的那股認真勁，它也可以被說成是“充滿活力”，也可以看作是“充滿熱情”，總之和她在一起覺得自己全身充滿陽光氣，對生活充滿希望。Gloria給我們上課，每一節(jié)課她都認真教學(xué)，絲毫看不出一絲疲憊、應(yīng)付之意，也因此讓我們更加感動，從而學(xué)習(xí)起來更加起勁、認真。我想我們每位教師在日常的教學(xué)中也應(yīng)該是這樣的，在進教室之前，無論你的身體多么疲憊，無論你的心情多么糟糕，你都要重新調(diào)整，讓自己精神抖擻、高高興興的邁進課堂，去和學(xué)生共度40分鐘的美好時光，讓他們在你的課堂上不僅能學(xué)到英語知識，更能學(xué)習(xí)到對生活的熱愛。

　　總之，通過這次培訓(xùn)，我學(xué)到了很多方面的東西，我想我要把這次在培訓(xùn)中學(xué)到的知識帶回到我的課堂教學(xué)中去，讓我的學(xué)生也能體會到學(xué)習(xí)英語的樂趣。我相信，這些活動一定能提高學(xué)生學(xué)習(xí)英語的興趣。在以后的教學(xué)中我會嘗試著進行應(yīng)用并創(chuàng)新，做一名合格而優(yōu)秀的英語教師。

英語主題經(jīng)典演講稿2

　　I was one of the only kids in college who had a reason to go to the P.O. box at the end of the day, and that was mainly because my mother has never believed in email, in Facebook, in texting or cell phones in general. And so while other kids were BBM-ing their parents, I was literally waiting by the mailbox to get a letter from home to see how the weekend had gone, which was a little frustrating when Grandma was in the hospital, but I was just looking for some sort of scribble, some unkempt cursive from my mother. And so when I moved to New York City after college and got completely sucker-punched in the face by depression, I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I wrote those same kinds of letters that my mother had written me for strangers, and tucked them all throughout the city, dozens and dozens of them. 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 a hand-written letter, I would write you one, no questions asked. Overnight, my inbox morphed into this harbor of heartbreak - a single mother in Sacramento, a girl being bullied in rural Kansas, all asking me, a 22-year-old girl who barely even knew her own coffee order, to write them a love letter and give them a reason to wait by the mailbox. Well, today I fuel a global organization that is fueled by those trips to the mailbox, fueled by the ways in which we can harness social media like never before to write and mail strangers letters when they need them most, but most of all, fueled by crates of mail like this one, my trusty mail crate, filled with the scriptings of ordinary people, strangers writing letters to other strangers not because they're ever going to meet and laugh over a cup of coffee, but because they have found one another by way of letter-writing. But, you know, the thing that always gets me about these letters is that most of them have been written by people that have never known themselves loved on a piece of paper. They could not tell you about the ink of their own love letters. They're the ones from my generation, the ones of us that have grown up into a world where everything is paperless, and where some of our best conversations have happened upon a screen. We have learned to diary our pain onto Facebook, and we speak swiftly in 140 characters or less. But what if it's not about efficiency this time? I was on the subway yesterday with this mail crate, which is a conversation starter, let me tell you. If you ever need one, just carry one of these. (Laughter) And a man just stared at me, and he was like, "Well, why don't you use the Internet?" And I thought, "Well, sir, I am not a strategist, nor am I specialist. I am merely a storyteller." And so I could tell you about a woman whose husband has just come home from Afghanistan, and she is having a hard time unearthing this thing called conversation, and so she tucks love letters throughout the house as a way to say, "Come back to me. Find me when you can." Or a girl who decides that she is going to leave love letters around her campus in Dubuque, Iowa, only to find her efforts ripple-effected the next day when she walks out onto the quad and finds 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 way to say goodbye to friends and family. Well, tonight he sleeps safely with a stack of letters just like this one tucked beneath his pillow, scripted by strangers who were there for him when. These are the kinds of stories that convinced me that letter-writing will never again need to flip back her hair and talk about efficiency, because she is an 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 sit down, 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 and the iPhone is pinging and we've got six conversations rolling in at once, that is an art form that does not fall down to the Goliath of "get faster," no matter how many social networks we might join. We still clutch close these letters to our chest, to the words that speak louder than loud, when we turn pages into palettes to say the things that we have needed to say, the words that we have needed to write, to sisters and brothers and even to strangers, for far too long. Thank you. (Applause) (Applause)

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