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My friend Brett had just got a bike. A lot of kids in my neighborhood knew how to ride. I also wanted to ride, but all the boys told me I couldn't do it because I was a girl. I decided to prove them wrong, so Brett let me try his bike. I wasn't on for one minute before I fell off. He came over to see if I was OK, but then started laughing.
That night I told my dad the whole story about how I wanted to be as good as boys. A few days later my dad told me he had found a nice bike. He brought it home and that was when I became the laughing stock (笑柄) of the neighborhood. All the boys thought it was a joke that I actually wanted to learn how to ride.
My dad spent four long weeks teaching me everything I needed to know about the bike and the basics of riding. Day after day and night after night he worked with me, and I began to progress.
Each ride on my dirt bike, I got a little better, and finally I was ready for my first time on a trip with some boys. At first I couldn't keep up and the boys had to wait for me. My bike often got stuck in the muddy creeks.
Every time I came back, I would cry, and every time I cried my dad was there to put his arms around me. He would tell me not to listen to them and that with more practice, I would be as good as others or better than them.
Things eventually got easier, as if I could ride with my eyes closed. I am still made fun of, not because I'm an amateur (技术不熟练的人) or not good, but because they felt threatened that a girl can do what they did.
