Read the following context and answer the question. Context: Rain, the young man is thinking. Of course it would be raining. Not a heavy, cleansing rain that leaves the streets steaming and the neatly sculptured yards lush and fragrant. This is a gray drizzling rain. A rain that makes him think of places like England and Scotland as they appear in those disturbing late night films on cable, the ones in black and white that weren't particularly memorable when they were made and are even less so now. Still, it rains and the air is cool. All he has to shelter him is a think nylon jacket. The jacket is soaked. It feels both chilly and coarse against his skin. His hair hangs in flat and sodden wings, falling into his eyes. It's long in the back, almost to his shoulders, and he thinks that the cars that pass him on the street, the occupants of those cars, might look at him and see only that he is wet and not that he is dirty as well. Can they tell that his hair has been unwashed for days? That his clothes are the same ones he's worn for more than a week? It doesn't matter. He's invisible to them as soon as they pass, taking any assumptions they might make with them. They might just mistake him for one of those hoity-toity college kids, one of those clean limbed and beaming have's who has happened to find himself caught out without his umbrella. He makes a desultory attempt to straighten his shoulders, to lift his eyes from the buckled sidewalk. To look like he might have a purpose or a destination. It doesn't help. He has become the day. He has internalized the environment. He did that years ago, in fact. That's all I can do. Not his words, of course, but he understands them. He is intimately acquainted with his limitations. Question: Who is thinking of England? Answer:

OPTIONS:
- Nobody
- Rain
- The narrator
- not enough information

Answer: The narrator

Problem: OPTIONS:
- that her mother doesn't care about her at all
- that she actually deserved more than a D for the class
- not enough information
- that the teacher doesn't want her to go to college
Q: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: So many kids, so many stories. Parents die, leaving kids devastated and unable to speak for days. Parents get deported, leaving kids despondent and hopeless. Children endure emotional, sexual, physical abuse. And more. The saddest story I ever heard was from the kid in my AP Lit class who had taken her senior year to accept invitations from education reform groups to speak around the country, which she did, without doing any of her homework. She waited until after grades were turned in at the end of the year to contest the "D" on her report card because it meant not going to UC Berkeley. She brought her mother with her, and her two sisters. After going around and around for a while with me and the principal, her mother said that her divorce had really affected this girl, and she had been fighting so hard all her life to get into Berkeley, and what did I have against her daughter? She deserved to go to Cal! They were all in tears. The principal found a way to change her 64% to a 70.01%, and off she went. This young woman full of potential and energy, learned from her mother and my boss, that excuses rule the day. She appears to think that "social justice" means fighting to get your way because the deck is stacked against you, instead of doing the right thing. This is sad. I know this isn't what you were after, and that this memory says more about me than it does about her. Many other kids I have counseled, who are getting through something life-changing, seem to understand that life is in session, there will always be challenges to rise above, and that focusing in the classroom is a great way to get one's mind off one's troubles, if the environment is supportive and the spirit is willing. Question: The girl in the class probably believes: Answer:
Answer: that she actually deserved more than a D for the class

input with options: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: It was a dream, then a place, then a memory. My father built it near the Suwannee River. I like to think it was in the heart of Florida, because it was, and is, in my heart. Its name was Dogland. Some people say you can know others if you know the central incidents that shaped their lives. But an incident is an island in time, and to know the effect of the island on those who land there, you must know something about the river they have traveled. And I must warn you before we begin, I don't know that river well. I visit that time and place like a ghost with poor vision and little memory. I look up the river and see fog rolling in. I look down the river, and the brightness of the approaching day blinds me. I see shapes moving behind me and beyond me, but who they are and what they do, I cannot say. I will tell what I know is true, and I will invent what I believe is true, and that, I think, is all you can ask any storyteller to do. I learned the Nix family history from the stories Pa told. Even at the age of four, I suspected that Pa's stories might not be perfectly true. When Pa said we Nixes came to North America as indentured servants working our way out of debtor's prison, Grandma Bette would make a face and say he couldn't know that. When he said we Nixes had Lakota and Ojibwe blood in our veins, Grandma Bette would say she wasn't prejudiced, but it simply wasn't so: she and Pa and his brothers and sisters were dark because her people were Black Dutch, from a part of Holland where everyone had black hair and black eyes. And then Grandma Bette wouldn't say a word for half an hour or more, a very long time for Grandma Bette to be quiet. Question: What created the black Dutch? Answer:
OPTIONS:
- Invasion from Rome in the past
- not enough information
- The sun
- Mongol hordes pillaging Europe
output:
not enough information