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Finding Redemption Through Acceptance


Working as an interrogator at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, is a dangerous job. Yet an experience with a terrorism suspect led one veteran of the Iraq war to believe in the power of redemption and acceptance.


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Welcome to this I believe in NPR series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.
From NPR news, this is weekend edition. I am Lian Henson.

I believe in mystery.
I believe in family.
I believe in being who I am.
I believe in the power of failure.
I believe normal life is extraordinary. This I believe.

Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is a former interrogator at Guantanomo Bay Naval Base in Cuba. We can't broadcast her real name or current location because of the death threat against US interrogators. So we'll call her Alex Anderson. Here's our series curator, independent producer J. Alison.

Alex Anderson heard our series on the radio while working at the prison at Guantanomo during a time of crisis for her. She said that this project gave her a way to organize her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make sense of her actions. As you'll hear in her essay for this I believe.

I believe in the power of redemption.

I was an interrogator at the detention facility in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. I don't have any torture stories to share. I think many people would be surprised at the civilized lifestyle I experienced in Guantanamo. The detainees I worked with were murderers and rapists. You never forgot for a moment that, given the chance, they'd kill you to get out. Some committed crimes so horrific that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free.

But this is not the only reason I could not sleep; I had spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba. First I served as a soldier for a year, and then returned as a civilian contractor because I felt I hadn't done enough to make a difference the first time. After the Abu Ghraib scandal broke, I left because I felt I could not make any difference anymore. Those events simply undermined all of our work.

I felt defeated and frightened and tired, and I hoped I could redeem myself by making a difference in Guantanamo. Still, I couldn't sleep. I was plagued with dreams of explosions and screaming. After being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate. I thought people were planting bombs outside my house in Guantanamo. That was the night my roommate brought me to the hospital.

When I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients, which is what I chose to call my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war having lost friends, too. I wondered how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did.

My job was to obtain information that would help keep U.S. soldiers safe. We'd meet, play dominoes, I'd bring chocolate and we'd talk a lot. There was one detainee, Mustafa, who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world, and I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist — and he was. He'd committed murders and did things we all wished he could take back. He asked me one day, suddenly serious, "You know everything about me, but still you do not hate me. Why?"

His question stopped me cold. I said "Everyone has done things in their past that they're not proud of. I know I have, but I also know God still expects me to love Him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love my neighbor as myself. That means you."

Mustafa started to cry. "That's what my God says, too," he said.

Accepting Mustafa helped me accept myself again. My clients may never know this, but my year with them helped me to finally heal. My nightmares stopped.

I don't know what kind of a difference I made to the mission in Guantanamo. But I found redemption in caring for my clients, and I believe it saved my life — or at least my sanity. People say, "Hate the sin, not the sinner." That is easier said than done, but I learned that there is true freedom in accepting others unconditionally.

I believe we help to redeem each other through the power of acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.

With her essay for this I believe. Alex Anderson, a pseud name to protect her identity because of death threats on US interrogators. Anderson has left Guantanomo but is still working in intelligence.

If you have a statement of personal belief you'd like to send us, visit our website for details, that's npr.org/thisibelieve. Or you can also find a link to our weekly podcast. For this I believe, I am J. Alison.

J. Alison is coeditor with Dan Gadamin, John Gregory and Vicky Merick of the book This I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women. Support for this I believe comes from Prudential Retirement.

This I believe is produced for NPR by This I Believe incorporated at Atlantic Public Media. For more essays in the series, please visit npr.org/thisibelieve.

[ 本帖最后由 jeanneleaf 于 2008-3-7 15:52 编辑 ]

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支持普特英语听力就多多发帖吧!您们的参与是对斑竹工作最大的肯定与支持!如果您觉得还不错,推荐给周围的朋友吧~
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Welcome to this I believe in NPR series presenting the personal philosophy of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.
From NPR news, this is weekend edition. I am Lian Henson.
I believe in mystery. I believe in family. I believe in being who I am. I believe in power of failure. I believe normal life is extraordinary. This is I believe.
Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is former interrogator at Guantanomo bay Navy base in Cuba. We can’t broadcast her real name or her current location because of the death threat against US interrogators. So we’ll call her Alex Anderson. Here’s our series curator, independent producer J. Alexia.
Alex Anderson heard our story on radio while working at the prison at guantanomo during the time of crisis for her. She said this project gave her a way to organize her thoughts about her call of conviction in a way that help her make sense of her action.
As you’ll hear her essay for this I believe.
I believe in the power of redemption. I was an interrogator at detention facility in Gantanomo Bay Cuba. I don’t have any torture stories to share. I think many people will be surprised the civilized life style experienced in Guantanomo. The detainees I work with were murderers and rapists. You never forgot for a moment if they are given a chance, they will kill you to get out. Some committed crime that’s so harassic that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free. But this was not the only reason I couldn’t sleep. I spent 18 months in iraq just before my arrival in cuba. First I served a soldier for a year. Then I returned as civilian contractor because I felt I hadn’t done anything to make a difference the first time. After that I was great scandal broke work. I left because I felt I couldn’t make any difference any more. those event simply undermine all of my work. i felt defeated, frightened and tired and I hoped I could redeem myself by making a difference in guantanomo.
Still I couln’t sleep. I was played with dreams of explosion, screaming. After being sleepless for 48 hours, I began to hallucinate. I saw people were playing bombs outside my house in Guantanomo. That was the night my roommate brought me to hospital. When I returned to work, I began to meet again my clients which choose to call my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from war having lost friends too. I wonder how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would help keep US soldier safe. We meet, play dominos. I bring chocolate, and we talk a lot. There was one detainee, most of all who joked I was his favorite interrogator in the world, and I joked back he was my favorite terrorist. And he was. He’d committd murders, and did things we wish he could take back. he asked me one day suddently serious. "You know everything about me but still you don’t hate me. Why?" His question stopped me cold. I said everyone has done things in the past they are not proud of. I know I have but I also know god still expects me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength. And to love neighbors as myself. That means you. Most of us started to cry. "That what my god says too", he said. Except me help accept myself again. My clients might not know this. but My year with them helped me to finally heal. My nightmare stopped. I don’t know what kind of difference I made to the mission in Guantamono. But I find redemption in caring for my clients. And I believe it saved my life, all at least, my sanity. People say hate the sin, not the sinner. This is easier said than done. But I learn there is true freedom in accepting others unconditionally. I believe we help to redeem each other through the power of acceptance. It’s powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.
With her essay for this I believe. Alex Anderson, a pseudonym because of death threats on US interrogator. Anderson has left guantanomo but still woring in interlligence. If you have a statement of personal belief you like to send us, vist our websit for details. tha's NPR.org_this i believe. you can also find a link to our weekly broadcast. for this i believe. i am J. Alexon.
J. alexon is coeditor with Dan Gadinon, John Gregory, Wichy. Mario. this i believe the personal philogosphy of remarkable men and women.
support of r this i believe comes form potential retirement.
this i believe is produced for NPR by this i believe incorporate and Atlantic Public media. for more essaies in series please visit NPR.org_this i believe.
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Homework

Welcome to this I believe in NPR series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.

From NPR news, this is weekend edition. I am Lian Henson.

I believe in mystery. I believe in family. I believe in being who I am. I believe in the power of failure. I believe normal life is extraordinary. This I believe.

Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is a former interrogator at Guantanomo Bay Naval Base in Cuba. We can't broadcast her real name or current location because of the death threat against US interrogators. So we'll call her Alex Anderson. Here's our series curator, independent producer J. Alison

Alex Anderson heard our series on radio while working at the prison at Guantanomo during a time of crisis for her. She said that this project gave her a way to organize her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make sense of her actions.
As you'll hear in her essay for this I believe.

I believe in the power of redemption. I was an interrogator at the detention facility in Gantanomo Bay Cuba. I don't have any torture stories to share. I think many people would be surprised the civilized life style I experienced in Guantanomo. The detainees I worked with were murderers and rapists. You never forgot for a moment: they'd given a chance, they'd kill you to get out. Some committed crime so harassic that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free. But this was not the only reason I couldn't sleep. I had spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba. First I served as a soldier for a year, and then returned as civilian contractor because I felt I hadn't done enough to make a difference the first time. After that _____scandal broke, I left, because I felt I couldn't make any difference any more, those events simply undermined all of my work, I felt defeated, and frightened and tired and I hoped I could redeem myself by making a difference in Guantanomo.
Still I couln't sleep. I was played with dreams of explosions and screaming. After being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate. I thought people were planning bombs outside my house in Guantanomo. That was the night my roommate brought me to the hospital. When I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients which what I chose to call my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war having lost friends too. I wondered how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would help keep US soldiers safe. We'd meet, play dominos. I'd bring chocolate, and we talk a lot. There was one detainee, Mostafa, who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world, and I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist. And he was. He'd committed murders, and did things we all wished he could take back. He asked me one day, suddenly serious, "You know everything about me but still you don't hate me. Why?" His question stopped me cold. I said everyone has done things in the past that they are not proud of. I know I have but I also know God still expects me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love my neighbors as myself. That means you. Mostafa started to cry. "That's what my God says too", he said. Accepting Mostafa helped me accept myself again. My clients may never know this, but my year with them helped me to finally heal. My nightmare stopped. I don't know what kind of difference I made to the mission in Guantamono, but I found redemption in caring for my clients. And I believe it saved my life, or all at least, my sanity. People say hate the sin, not the sinner. This is easier said than done. But I learn that there is true freedom in accepting others unconditionally. I believe we help to redeem each other through the power of acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.

With her essay for this I believe. Alex Anderson, a pseudo-name to protect her identity because of death threats on US interrogators. Anderson has left Guantanomo but is still working in intelligence. If you have a statement of personal belief you'd like to send us, visit our website for details, that's npr.org/thisibelieve. Or you can also find a link to our weekly broadcast. For this I believe, I am J. Alison.

J. Alison is coeditor with Dan Gadimin, John Gregory and Vicky Meric of the book This I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women.Support for this I believe comes from Perdential Retirement.

This I believe is produced for NPR by This I Believe incorporate and Atlantic Public media. For more essays in the series, please visit npr.org/thisibelieve.
I love rock & roll...
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homework
Welcome to this I believe in NPR Series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all works of life. From NPR news, this is weekend edition,I am Lian Hanson, I believe in mystery, I believe in family, I believe in being who I am ,I believe in the power of failure, and I believe normal life is extraordinary. This I believe, our essay today came to us from an unusual source, she’s a former interrogator at Guang Bay base in Cuba,we can’t broadcast her real name or current vocation because of her death threat against US interrogators. So, we’ll call her Alex Anderson, here is a serious curiator independent producer Jay Anderson, Alex Anderson heard our series on the radio while working at the prison in Guang Tanomo during a time of crisis for her. She said this project gave her a way to organize her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make a sense of her actions as you will hear in her essay for this I believe. I believe in the power of redemption, I was an interrogator at Guang in Cuba, I don’t have any torturous stories to share, I think many people will be surprised at the civilized lifestyle I experienced in Guang,. The detainees I worked with were murderers and rapists. you never forgot for a moment, they are given the chance, they kill you to get out, some committed crimes so horathic that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free, but this is not the only reason that I couldn’t sleep, I have spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba, first I served as a soldier for a year and then returned as a civilian contractor because I felt I haven’t done enough to make a difference the first time, after the A scandal broke,I left, because I thought I couldn’t make any difference anymore. Those events simply undermined all of our work, I felt defeated, frightened and tired, and I hope I can reden myself by being in GUang tanemo, still I couldn’t sleep, I was played with dreams of explosions and screaming, after being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate, I thouht people were playing bombs outside my house in GT, that was the night my roommate brought me to the hospital, when I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients, which is what I chose to call my detainees, we were all exhausted, many of them came back from a war having lost friends too,I wonder how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did, my job was to obtain information that would help keep US soldiers safe, we meet Prey Dominos, I brought chocolate and we talked a lot, there was one detainee, Stopher joked I was his favorite interrogator in the world and I joked back that he is my favorite terrorist and he was, he committed murders and did thing we all wish we he could take back, he asked me one day ,suddenly serious, !@#$%^&, you know everything about me, but still you do not hate me, why .his question stopped me cold, I said everyone has done their things in the past that they are not proud of, I know I have but I also know God still expects me to love him with all my heart and soul, mind and strength, and to love my neighbors as myself, that means you, MS started to cry, that’s what my God says too ,he said, accepting MS helped me respect myself again, my clients may never know this, but my year with them finally help me to finally heal, my nightmare stopped,I don’t know what difference I made to mission in GT, but I found redemption from caring my clients, and I believe it saved my life, or at least my sandity, people say, hate the sin not the sinner, this is easier said than done, but I learned there was a true freedom in accepting other unconditionally, I believe we help to redeem each other through power of acceptance, it is powerful to those who receive it, and more powerful to those who gave it.
With her essay for this I believe,
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homework
Welcome to this I believe in NPR series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.

From NPR news, this is weekend edition. I am Lian Henson.

I believe in mystery. I believe in family. I believe in being who I am. I believe in the power of failure. I believe normal life is extraordinary. This I believe.

Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is a former interrogator at Guantanomo Bay Naval Base in Cuba. We can't broadcast her real name or current location because of the death threat against US interrogators. So we'll call her Alex Anderson. Here's our series curator, independent producer J. Alison

Alex Anderson heard our series on radio while working at the prison at Guantanomo during a time of crisis for her. She said that this project gave her a way to organize her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make sense of her actions.As you'll hear in her essay for this I believe.

I believe in the power of redemption. I was an interrogator at the detention facility in Gantanomo Bay Cuba. I don't have any torture stories to share. I think many people would be surprised the civilized life style I experienced in Guantanomo. The detainees I worked with were murderers and rapists. You never forgot for a moment: they'd given a chance, they'd kill you to get out. Some committed crime so harassic that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free. But this was not the only reason I couldn't sleep. I had spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba. First I served as a soldier for a year, and then returned as civilian contractor because I felt I hadn't done enough to make a difference the first time. After that great scandal broke, I left, because I felt I couldn't make any difference any more, those events simply undermined all of my work, I felt defeated, and frightened and tired and I hoped I could redeem myself by making a difference in Guantanomo.Still I couln't sleep. I was played with dreams of explosions and screaming. After being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate. I thought people were planning bombs outside my house in Guantanomo. That was the night my roommate brought me to the hospital. When I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients which what I chose to call my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war having lost friends too. I wondered how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did. My job was to attain information that would help keep US soldiers safe. We'd meet, play dominos. I bring chocolate, and we talk a lot. There was one detainee, Mostafa, who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world, and I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist. And he was. He'd committed murders, and did things we all wished he could take back. He asked me one day, suddenly serious, "You know everything about me but still you don't hate me. Why?" His question stopped me cold. I said everyone has done things in the past that they are not proud of. I know I have but I also know God still expects me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love my neighbors as myself. That means you.
Mostafa started to cry.
"That's what my God says too", he said.
Accepting Mostafa helped me accept myself again. My clients may never know this, but my year with them helped me to finally heal. My nightmare stopped. I don't know what kind of difference I made to the mission in Guantamono, but I found // in caring for my clients. And I believe it saved my life, or all at least, my sanity. People say hate the sin, not the sinner. This is easier said than done. But I learn that there is true freedom in accepting others unconditionally. I believe we help to redeem each other through the power of acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.

With her essay for this I believe. Alex Anderson, a pseudo-name to protect her identity because of death threats on US interrogators. Anderson has left Guantanomo but is still working in intelligence. If you have a statement of personal belief you'd like to send us, visit our website for details, . Or you can also find a link to our weekly broadcast. For this I believe, I am J. Alison.

J. Alison is coeditor with Dan Gadimin, John Gregory and Vicky Meric of the book This I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women.Support for this I believe comes from Perdential Retirement.

This I believe is produced for NPR by This I Believe incorporate and Atlantic Public media. For more essays in the series, please visit npr.org/ thi s i believe.
不管怎么样依然决定继续行走,直到找到自己的幸福终点站!!
homework
Welcome to this I believe in NPR series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.
From NPR news, this is weekend edition. I am Lian Henson.

I believe in mystery.
I believe in family.
I believe in being who I am.
I believe in the power of failure.
I believe normal life is extraordinary. This I believe.

Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is a former interrogator at Guantanomo Bay Naval Base in Cuba. We can't broadcast her real name or current location because of the death threat against US interrogators. So we'll call her Alex Anderson. Here's our series curator, independent producer J. Alison

Alex Anderson heard our series on the radio while working at the prison at Guantanomo during a time of crisis for her. She said that this project gave her a way to organize her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make sense of her actions. As you'll hear in her essay for this I believe.

I believe in the power of redemption. I was an interrogator at the detention facility in Gantanomo Bay Cuba. I don't have any torture stories to share. I think many people would be surprised at the civilized life style I experienced in Guantanomo. The detainees I worked with were murderers and rapists. You never forgot for a moment: they'd given a chance; they'd kill you to get out. Some committed crime so harassed that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free. But this was not the only reason I couldn't sleep. I had spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba. First I served as a soldier for a year, and then returned as a civilian contractor because I felt I hadn't done enough to make a difference the first time. After that Gabber Bridge Scandal broke, I left, because I felt I couldn't make any difference any more, those events simply undermined all of my work, I felt defeated, and frightened and tired and I hoped I could redeem myself by making a difference in Guantanomo.

Still I couldn’t sleep. I was played with dreams of explosions and screaming. After being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate. I thought people were planning bombs outside my house in Guantanomo. That was the night my roommate brought me to the hospital. When I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients which what I chose to call my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war having lost friends too. I wondered how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would help keep US soldiers safe. We'd meet, play dominos. I'd bring chocolate, and we talk a lot. There was one detainee, Mustafa, who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world, and I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist. And he was. He'd committed murders, and did things we all wished he could take back.

He asked me one day, suddenly serious, "You know everything about me but still you don't hate me. Why?"
His question stopped me cold. I said, “Everyone has done things in the past that they are not proud of. I know I have but I also know God still expects me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love my neighbors as myself. That means you.”
Mustafa started to cry. "That's what my God says too", he said.

Accepting Mustafa helped me accept myself again. My clients may never know this, but my year with them helped me to finally heal. My nightmare stopped. I don't know what kind of difference I made to the mission in Guantamono, but I found redemption in caring for my clients. And I believe it saved my life, or all at least, my sanity. People say hate the sin, not the sinner. This is easier said than done. But I learn that there is true freedom in accepting others unconditionally. I believe we help to redeem each other through the power of acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.

With her essay for this I believe. Alex Anderson, a pseudo-name to protect her identity because of death threats on US interrogators. Anderson has left Guantanomo but is still working in intelligence.

If you have a statement of personal belief you'd like to send us, visit our website for details, that's npr.org/thisibelieve. Or you can also find a link to our weekly podcast. For this I believe, I am J. Alison.

J. Alison is coeditor with Dan Gadamin, John Gregory and Vicky Merick of the book This I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women. Support for this I believe comes from Prudential Retirement.

This I believe is produced for NPR by This I Believe incorporate and Atlantic Public media. For more essays in the series, please visit npr.org/thisibelieve.

on lxwsdrz9999
Welcome to this I believe in NPR series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.
From NPR news, this is weekend edition. I am Lian Henson.

I believe in mystery.
I believe in family.
I believe in being who I am.
I believe in the power of failure.
I believe normal life is extraordinary. This I believe.

Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is a former interrogator at Guantanomo Bay Naval Base in Cuba. We can't broadcast her real name or current location because of the death threat against US interrogators. So we'll call her Alex Anderson. Here's our series curator, independent producer J. Alison

Alex Anderson heard our series on the radio while working at the prison at Guantanomo during a time of crisis for her. She said that this project gave her a way to organize her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make sense of her actions. As you'll hear in her essay for this I believe.

I believe in the power of redemption. I was an interrogator at the detention facility in Gantanomo Bay Cuba. I don't have any torture stories to share. I think many people would be surprised at the civilized life style I experienced in Guantanomo. The detainees I worked with were murderers and rapists. You never forgot for a moment: they'd given a chance; they'd kill you to get out. Some committed crime so heretic that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free. But this was not the only reason I couldn't sleep. I had spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba. First I served as a soldier for a year, and then returned as a civilian contractor because I felt I hadn't done enough to make a difference the first time. After that Gabber Bridge Scandal broke, I left, because I felt I couldn't make any difference any more, those events simply undermined all of my work, I felt defeated, and frightened and tired and I hoped I could redeem myself by making a difference in Guantanomo.

Still I couldn’t sleep. I was played with dreams of explosions and screaming. After being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate. I thought people were planning bombs outside my house in Guantanomo. That was the night my roommate brought me to the hospital. When I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients which what I chose to call my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war having lost friends too. I wondered how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would help keep US soldiers safe. We'd meet, play dominos. I'd bring chocolate, and we talk a lot. There was one detainee, Mustafa, who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world, and I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist. And he was. He'd committed murders, and did things we all wished he could take back.

He asked me one day, suddenly serious, "You know everything about me but still you do not hate me. Why?"
His question stopped me cold. I said, “Everyone has done things in their past that they are not proud of. I know I have but I also know God still expects me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love my neighbors as myself. That means you.”
Mustafa started to cry. "That's what my God says too", he said.

Accepting Mustafa helped me accept myself again. My clients may never know this, but my year with them helped me to finally heal. My nightmare stopped. I don't know what kind of difference I made to the mission in Guantamono, but I found redemption in caring for my clients. And I believe it saved my life, or all at least, my sanity. People say hate the sin, not the sinner. This is easier said than done. But I learn that there is true freedom in accepting others unconditionally. I believe we help to redeem each other through the power of acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.

With her essay for this I believe. Alex Anderson, a pseudo-name to protect her identity because of death threats on US interrogators. Anderson has left Guantanomo but is still working in intelligence.

If you have a statement of personal belief you'd like to send us, visit our website for details, that's npr.org/thisibelieve. Or you can also find a link to our weekly podcast. For this I believe, I am J. Alison.

J. Alison is coeditor with Dan Gadamin, John Gregory and Vicky Merick of the book This I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women. Support for this I believe comes from Prudential Retirement.

This I believe is produced for NPR by This I Believe incorporate and Atlantic Public media. For more essays in the series, please visit npr.org/thisibelieve.
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实现无障碍英语沟通
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Welcome to this I believe in NPR series, presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walk of life. From NPR’s news ,this is weekend edition, I am Li an henson.
I believe in mystery, I believe in family, I believe in being who I am ,I believe in the power of failure, I believe in normal life is extraordinary… this I believe

Our essay today came to us from an unusually source , she is a former interrogator at Guantanamo Bay neighbor navy base in Cuba, we can’t broadcast her real name or current location becoz of the death threat against US interrogators ,so we will call her Alex Anderson. Here is our series curator and independent producer Jay Alison.
Alex Anderson heard our series on the radio while working in the prison Guantanamo during a time of the crisis for her, she said that this project program gave her a way to organized her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make sense of her actions. As u will hear her essay for this I believe.
I believe in the power of redemption, I was an interrogator at the detention facility in Guantanamo bay Cuba. I don’t have any torture stories to share, I think many ppl would be surprised at the civilized life stylish experiences at Guantanamo. The detainees I worked with were murderers and rapists, u never forget for a moment , they ‘d given a chance they ‘d kill u to get out, some committed crime so harassed that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set out free,but this was not the only reason I couldn’t sleep, I had spent 18 months in iraq just be4 my arrival in cuba , first I served as a solider for a year and then we returned as a civilians contractor, becoz I thought I hadn’t done enough to make a difference the 1st time. After the Gabber Bridge Scandal broke, I left, becoz I thought I couldn’t make any difference anymore. Those events simply undermined all of our work .i felt defeated and frightened and tired. And I hope I could redeem myself by making a difference in Guantanamo ,

Still I couldn’t sleep, I was played with dreams of explosions and creaming, after been sleepless for more than 48 hours I became to hallucinate, I thought ppl were planning bombs outside my house at Guantanamo ,that was the night my roommate brought me to the hospital, when I returned to work I began to meet again with my clients, which is what I chose to call my detainees. we were all exhausted, many of them came back from a war, having lost friends too. I wonder how many of them still cream at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would help keep US soldiers’ safe. We meet, play dominos, I bring chocolate and we talk a lot. There was one detainee, Mustafa who joked that I was his favorite interrogate in the world and I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist and he was , he was committed murders and did things that we wish he could take back, he asked me one day, suddenly serious ,u know everything about me, but still u don’t hate me, why? His question stopped me cold, I said everyone is done things in the past that they r not proud of , I know I have , but I also know god still expects me to love him with all my heart soul mind and strength, and to love my neighbor as myself. That means u , Mustafa started to cry, that is what my god says too, he said.

Accepting Mustafa helped me accept myself again. my client may never knows this , but my year with them helped me to finally heal, my nightmare stopped, I don’t know what kind of difference I made to the mission in Guantamono , but I found redemption ,in caring for my clients , and I believed it saved myself or at least my sanity, ppl say hate the sin, not the sinner, this is easier said than done, but I learn that there is true freedom, in accepting others unconditionally, I believe we helped to redeem each other throught the power of acceptance, it is powerful to who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.

With her essay for this I believe, Alex anderson a pseudo name to protected her identity becoz of death threat on US interrogators, anderson has left Guantanamo , but still works in intelligence, If u have statement of personal belief u would like to send us ,visit our website for details that is NPR. Org slash this I believe, or u can also find a link to our weekly podcast, for this I believe I am jay Alison.
普特听力大课堂
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Welcome “This I believe”, and NPR serials presenting the personal philosophy or remarkable man and woman and from all works of life. From NPR new, this edition, I’m Leon Edison. “I believe in mystery.” “I believe in family.” “I believe in who I am.” “I believe in power and failure.” “I believe normal life in extraordinary.” This I believe.
Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is a former interrogator at Guantanamo Bay Navy Basin, Cuba. We can’t broadcast her real name and current location because death threat against US interrogators, so we’ll call her Alex Anderson. Here is the serials Curator(馆长), independent producer, Jay Alyson.
Alex Anderson heard a serials on the radio were working on the prison at Guantanamo during a time of crisis for her. She said the project give her a way to organize her thought about core convictions in a way that help her make sense of her actions. As you will hear her essay “This I believe”.
I believed in the power of redemption. I was an interrogator at the deettension facility of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. I don’t have any torture stories to share. I think many people would surprise the civilized life style experienced in Guantanamo. The detainees I worked with were murders and rapists. You never forgot for a moment they were given the chance, they’d kill you to get out. Some crimes were so horrific that I lost sleep wondering what happen if they were set free, but this is not the only reason I could not sleep. I had spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba. First I served soldier for a year and then returned the civilian contractor because I though they hadn’t done enough to make a difference first time.
After the Abugrabu (阿布格莱布监狱?) scandal broke, I left. Because I thought I couldn’t make any difference any more. Those advance simply undermined all I have work. I felt defeated, frightened and tired and I hope I could redeem myself of making a difference at Guantanamo, still I couldn’t sleep. I was plays with dreams and explosions screaming. After being sleepless more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate (产生幻觉). I saw people were playing bombs outside my house in Guantanamo. That’s my roommate who brought me to the hospital.
When I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients, which I chose as my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war and lost friends too. I wondered how many of them were still screaming at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would help US soldiers safe. We met, played dominos. I bring chocolate, we talk a lot. There was one detainee, Mustafa, who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world. And I was joked back that he was my favorite terrorist. As it was, he committed murders and did things we always / take it back. He asked me one day, suddenly serious, “…..”
“You know everything about me, but still you do not hate me. Why?” His question stopped me cold. I said, “Every one had done something in the past that they are not proud of. I know I have, but I also know God still expects me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength and to love my neighbor and myself. That means you.”
Mustafa started to cry. “That’s what my God says too.” He said. Accepting Mustafa helped me accept myself again. My clients may never know it, but my year with them helped me to find a / to heal. My nightmare stopped. I don’t know what kind of difference I made at Guantanamo, but I found redemption in carrying my clients and I believed it save my life, or at least, my sanctity.
People say, “Hate the sin, not the sinner.” This is easier said than done, but I learnt there is true freedom in accepting others conditionally. I believe we help to redeem each other through the power and acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who get it.
With her essay for “This I Believe”, Alex Anderson, a Sudanim/, to protector identity because of the death threats on US interrogators. Anderson has left Guantanamo, but is still working intelligence. If you have statements of personal believe and like to send to us, please visit our website for details. That’s NPR.org/thisIbelieve, or you also can find the link to our weekly broadcast. For “This I believe”, I’m Jay Alyson.
Jay Alyson is co-editor with Gay Datimon, John Gagery and Vicky Maric of the book “This I believe”, the personal philosophy with remarkable men and women. Support for “This I believe” comes from potential retirement. “This I believe” is produced from NPR by “This I believe” incorporated and Atlantic public media. For more essays in the serials, please visit in NPR.org/ thisIbelieve.
好栏目推荐之美国口语俚语
Homework

Welcome to this I believe and NPR serials presenting personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.
From NPR news, this is weekend edition, I am Lian Henson.
I believe in mytery, I believe in feeling, I believe in being who I am, I believe in the power of failure, I believe normal life is extraordinary, this I believe.

Our essay today came to us from an unusual source.
She is a former interregator at Guantanamo Bay,naval base in Cuba. We can't broadcast her real name or current location becoz of death threats against US interrogators. So we will call her Alex Anderson. Here is a series of curator, independent producer, Jay Alison.

Alex Anderson heard our serials on the radio while working at the prison at Guantanamo during the time of crisis for her. She said this project gave her a way to organise her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make sense of her actions. As you are here in her essay for this I believe.

I believe in the power of redemption, I was an interrogator at the detention facility in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. I don't have any torture stories to share. I think many ppl would be surprised at the civilised lifestyle I have experienced in Guantanamo. The detainees I worked with were murderers, rapists. You never forgot for a moment they're given a chance, they'd kill you to get out. Some committed crime so horrific that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free. But this was not the only reason I couldn't sleep, I've spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba. First I served as a solider for a year, and then returned as a civilian contractor becoz I felt I hadn't done enough to make it different the first time.

After the Abu Ghraib scandal broke, I left, becoz I felt I couldn't make any difference any more. Those events simply undermined all of my work. I felt defeated, frightened and tired. And I hoped I could redeem myself by making a difference in Guantanamo. Still, I couldn't sleep. I was plagued with dreams of explosions and screaming. After being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I became to hallucianate. I thought ppl were planning bombs outside my house in Guantanamo. That was a night my roomate brought me to a hospital. When I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients which is what I chose to call my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war, having lost friends too. I wondered how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would hepl US soldiers safe. We'd meet, play dominos, I bring chocolate and we talked a lot. There was one detainee, Mustafa, who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world. And I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist. And he was. He'd committed murders and did things we always wished he could take back. He asked me one day, suddengly serious. "....(Arabic)" You know everything about me, but still you do not hate me. Why? His question stopped me cold. I said everyone's done things in the past that they are not proud of. I know I have, but I also know God still expects me to love him, with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love my neighbors as myself. That means you. Mustafa started to cry. That's what my God says too. He said. Accepting Mustafa helped me accept myself again. My client may never know this. But my year with them helped me to finally heal. My nightmare stopped. I don't know what kind of difference I made to the mission in Guantanamo. But I found redemption in caring for my clients. And I believe I saved my life, or at least my sanity. Ppl say, hate the sin, not the sinner. This is easier said than done. But I learnt there is true freedom in accepting others unconditionally. I believe we help each other through the power of acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it, and more powerful to those who give it.
With her essay for this I believe, Alex Anderson, a pseudonym to protect our identity becoz of death threats on US interrogators. Anderson has left Guantanamo, but was still working in the Intelligence. If you have a statement of personal belief you'd like to send to us, visit our website for details, that's NPR.org/thisIbelieve. Or you could also find a link to our weekly broadcast, for this I believe, I am Jay Alison. Jay Alison is coeditor with Dan Gadmin, John Gregory, and Vicky Meric of the book, "This, I believe." , the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women.
Support for this I believe comes from predential retirement.
This I belive is produced for NPR by This I believe incorporated Atlantic Public Media. For more essays in the series, please visit NPR.org/ThisIbelieve.
Music
homework

Welcome to this I believe in NPR series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.
From NPR news, this is weekend edition. I am Lian Henson.

I believe in mystery.
I believe in family.
I believe in being who I am.
I believe in the power of failure.
I believe normal life is extraordinary. This I believe.

Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is a former interrogator at Guantanomo Bay Naval Base in Cuba. We can't broadcast her real name or current location because of the death threat against US interrogators. So we'll call her Alex Anderson. Here's our series curator, independent producer J. Alison

Alex Anderson heard our series on the radio while working at the prison at Guantanomo during a time of crisis for her. She said that this project gave her a way to organize her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make sense of her actions. As you'll hear in her essay for this I believe.

I believe in the power of redemption. I was an interrogator at the detention facility in Gantanomo Bay Cuba. I don't have any torture stories to share. I think many people would be surprised at the civilized life style I experienced in Guantanomo. The detainees I worked with were murderers and rapists. You never forgot for a moment: they'd given a chance; they'd kill you to get out. Some committed crime so harassed that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free. But this was not the only reason I couldn't sleep. I had spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba. First I served as a soldier for a year, and then returned as a civilian contractor because I felt I hadn't done enough to make a difference the first time. After that Gabber Bridge Scandal broke, I left, because I felt I couldn't make any difference any more, those events simply undermined all of my work, I felt defeated, and frightened and tired and I hoped I could redeem myself by making a difference in Guantanomo.

Still I couldn’t sleep. I was played with dreams of explosions and screaming. After being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate. I thought people were planning bombs outside my house in Guantanomo. That was the night my roommate brought me to the hospital. When I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients which what I chose to call my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war having lost friends too. I wondered how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would help keep US soldiers safe. We'd meet, play dominos. I'd bring chocolate, and we talk a lot. There was one detainee, Mustafa, who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world, and I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist. And he was. He'd committed murders, and did things we all wished he could take back.

He asked me one day, suddenly serious, "You know everything about me but still you don't hate me. Why?"
His question stopped me cold. I said, “Everyone has done things in the past that they are not proud of. I know I have but I also know God still expects me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love my neighbors as myself. That means you.”
Mustafa started to cry. "That's what my God says too", he said.

Accepting Mustafa helped me accept myself again. My clients may never know this, but my year with them helped me to finally heal. My nightmare stopped. I don't know what kind of difference I made to the mission in Guantamono, but I found redemption in caring for my clients. And I believe it saved my life, or all at least, my sanity. People say hate the sin, not the sinner. This is easier said than done. But I learn that there is true freedom in accepting others unconditionally. I believe we help to redeem each other through the power of acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.

With her essay for this I believe. Alex Anderson, a pseudo-name to protect her identity because of death threats on US interrogators. Anderson has left Guantanomo but is still working in intelligence.

If you have a statement of personal belief you'd like to send us, visit our website for details, that's npr.org/thisibelieve. Or you can also find a link to our weekly podcast. For this I believe, I am J. Alison.

J. Alison is coeditor with Dan Gadamin, John Gregory and Vicky Merick of the book This I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women. Support for this I believe comes from Prudential Retirement.

This I believe is produced for NPR by This I Believe incorporate and Atlantic Public media. For more essays in the series, please visit npr.org
homework


Welcome to this I believe in NPR series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life. From NPR news this is weekend edition. I am Liane Hansen.
I believe in mystery
I believe in family
I believe in being who I am
I believe in the power of failure
And I believe in normal life is extraordinary
This I believe

Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is a formal interrogator at Guantanamo Bay Neighbl Basin Cuba, we can’t broadcast her real name or current location because death threat against US interrogators. So we will call her Alice Anderson. Here is our series curator, independent producer, Jay Allison.
Alice Anderson heard our series on the radio while working at the prison at Guantanamo during a time of crisis for her. She says this project give her the way to organize her thought about her core convictions in a way that help her make sense of her actions. As you will hear her essay for this I believe.

I believe in the power of redemption. I used to be an interrogator at the detention for civilian Guantamano Bay, Cuba. I don’t have any torture story to share. I think many people would be surprised at the civilized lifestyle like experience at Guantanamo. The detainee I work with was a murder and rapist. You never forgot for a moment that given the chance they kill you to get out. Some convicted a crime so heroic that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free. But this is not the only reason I couldn’t sleep. I spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arriving Cuba. First I served as a soldier for a year and then returned as a civilian contractor because I felt that I haven’t done enough to make a difference the first time. After that Aber scandle broke. I left because I felt that I couldn’t make any difference any more. Those events simply undermined all of our work. I felt defeated and frightened, and tired and I hope that could redid myself by making a difference in Guantanamo, still I couldn’t sleep, I was preyed with dreams of explosion and screaming. After being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate. I thought people were planning bombs outside my house in Guantnamo, that was the nightmare my roommates brought me to the hospital when I returned to work.. I began to meet again with my clients which is what I chose to call my detainee. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war having lost friends too. I wonder how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would help keep US soldiers safe. We meet playdowmernose, I bring chocolates and we talk a lot. There was one detainee Mush Staffer who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world and I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist and he was. He convicted murders and did things we all wish to take it back. He asked me one day suddenly serious_______. You know everything about me but still you didn’t hate me. Why? His question started me cold. I said everyone had done thing in their the past that they are not proud of, I know I have. But I also know god still expects me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength and to love my neighbor as myself that means you. Mush Staffer started to cry. That’s what mine says too he said. Accepting Mush Staffer help me accept myself again. My clients might never know this. But my years with them help me to finally heal. My nightmare stopped. I don’t know what kinds of difference I make in the mission in Guantanamo but I found redemption in caring for my clients and I believe it saves my life or at least my sentity. People say hate the sin not the sinner, this is easier said than done. But I learnt that there was true freedom in accepting others unconditionally. I believe we help to redeem each other through the power of acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.

With her essay for this I believe Alice Anderson, an assumed name to protect her identity because death threat on US interrogators. Anderson has left Gantanamo. But she is till working in intelligence. If you have a statement of personal belief you like to send to us, visit our website for details, that’s NPR.org/thisibelieve, where you can also find a link to our weekly podcast. For this I believe I’m Jay Allison.

Jay Allison is co-editor with Dan Gediman. John Gregory and Viki Merrick of the book this I believe the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women.

Support for this I believe comes from prudential retirement.

This I believe is produced for NPR by this I believe incorporated Atlantic media. For more essays in this series. Please visit NPR.org/thisibelieve.
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