Staring at the screen, the young author sighed in frustration, her fingers once again failing her as she was distracted by the din of the news on TV. Resigned, she shut it off and turned back to her blank document wishing for the ability to channel her emotions towards the high expectations placed before her, as well as the stigmas. She was growing tired of the starkness of the world around her.
Throughout my years of schooling, I have become ambivalent about reading and writing. I have struggled in school to make myself enjoy writing. I didn’t mind reading as much, as long as it was to my interest. It has differed throughout the years I have been in school. Some years I have enjoyed both, reading and writing, and other years I have not liked either. Getting myself to enjoy reading and writing has been quite the adventure.
Sitting on a colorful blanket and listening to my mom read books from Disney was my first memory of learning how to read. She could read word by word, making those face expressions that used to make me feel excited and of course she would show off the pictures. She finished reading and then she gave me a little purple notebook, where I used to practice how to spell my name and practicing the alphabet. Those are the first memories I have about learning how to read and write.
The beginning on my literacy journey was a difficult one. Partly because I am dyslexic, and partly because I was not motivated by traditional things. I did not care about reading or writing. I did not want to waste my time with it. Nothing about it interested me. I felt that I was already going to fail at it no matter what. So whats the point? If some lady told you that no matter what you are going to have a hard time reading and writing because thats “how God made you” would you really be motivated to read and write? She said in that it didn 't mean I was not smart, but that I just couldn 't read or write as good as everyone else. This lady was the school psychologist, who tested me for learning disabilities in the first grade. After hearing the verdict from her I had no intention of being good at anything that had to do with reading or writing. It was dead to me.
Ashley showed her mom her tests that requested in-depth explanations and serious critical thinking for answers. Frustration and fear crossed Ashley’s face as she struggled with adding details to her short answers and book summaries. Rosa told her teenager, “You need to show your teacher that you fully understand what you read. It helps to pretend like your teacher has never read the story, and it is your job to give your teacher specific details to show her what the reading focused on the
One week passed since Anna took her Math test and she knew that her test was going to be handed back to her in class. Anna thought to herself that she mastered the test, since she had been study for weeks before the test. As she had sat down, the teacher started to hand back the test. When she got her test, her smile quickly feel, and anger starts to bubbled inside her. She got a C- on her test, and started to freak out.
Last week we wrote a blog and one of the questions was “How did you learn to read and write?” I found this question interesting because I never had really thought about the moment when I actually learned how to read and write. My mom was the first person to expose me to reading and writing. A popular tactic she did to make sure I was staying engaged was to read aloud stories and make me follow along with her. My mom would read me many different stories like Tarzan, Bambi, Aladdin, Peter Pan, Lion King, The Jungle Book, and Hercules. whatever I wanted to listen and follow along with, she would read with me. This really helped with my want to read. The books contained a lot of adventure, which made it easy as a kid to follow along with. I became to gain an imagination and then all of a sudden reading was easier.
My ability to read and write has immensely improved throughout the years of being a student. For others their first steps to literacy began in elementary however mine were before I was enrolled into kindergarten. My mom would buy me books and spend a few hours everyday teaching me how to read. She became a card holder at the public library which allowed me to checkout books outside of school and saved money. My mom has been my biggest supporter towards excelling in school and literacy has been a major aspect I have grown to accept. At the early age of five I found literacy to be exciting and an escape from reality.
“Thanks I’m going to work hard!” Alaina exclaimed. It was one more week until the exam and she was never so nervous. Every time she tried to study, she would get too nervous because the exam was coming up, sooner and sooner. She told her teacher,” I’m too
“Is this your best work?” he started. “The topics don’t flow; you need to utilize transitions, for starters. Is this a teen directed novel? If so, increase the vocabulary level. This is something I would have read in third grade!” and on the criticism went. In the back of her mind, Violet thought that it must be constructive criticism, but the overwhelming thought was failure. With every sentence, every comment on the document, every highlighted phrase, Violet sunk a little lower in her chair. When he was finished, Violet mumbled a thank you and sped out the
As I reflect on my childhood, the first memory of literacy I recall is when I was in kindergarten. I was approaching the end of the school year when my mother revealed to me my teacher was considering keeping me in kindergarten for another year. I was extremely upset and felt as if I had failed my first year of school. I felt that I was fresh out of the gate and already defective. My perception as a child was that the adults were already giving up on me. The teacher stated if I could learn the alphabet by the end of the school year I could continue ahead to the 1st grade. The conclusion of Kindergarten was vastly approaching. My mother constructed flash cards to help with my letter recognition. In doing so, she realized I could not see the letters. My mother promptly made an appointment for me to visit an Optometrist to evaluate me. Before I knew it, I was fitted with a big plastic pair of glasses. My world became much clearer after that. My mother was upset that my teacher did not recognize the problem, and that I never spoke up. Fortunately, I passed kindergarten with a lot of hard work from my parents, teacher, and I.
Back when I was very little, before I could read my parents would read to me a story every night. I had a big bookshelf right next to my bed and my brothers would come to hear the book my dad was reading. Back when I was younger, my favorite book was the fox in socks. I loved all the rhymes and tongue twisters. It helped motivate me to learn to read. While I was learning I read it over and over again until I memorized it. I slowly started to read in my own. Now I can read by myself without sounding out it word in an sentence.
My first memory of reading or writing was being taught the alphabet at the daycare I attended in my childhood. I was in the “butterfly room” which was for children going into kindergarten the following year. I have a similar memory of my mother teaching me to write my name when I was around that same age. At some point in the years following I learned to read on my own and became more proficient in writing.
"Taylor why can't you read this. This is so easy," I remember my younger sister Ashley saying to me. My path to literacy started in Kindergarten when I struggled to learn how to read. We had just moved from Kennewick, WA to Denver, CO a couple weeks before my first day of kindergarten. I had always been into playing school with my two sisters and pretending I was the nerd that knew everything when it came to reading and math. The real shock came to me when I started Kindergarten and everyone could read but me. I felt stupid. I would come home and try and do my reading homework with my mom and my three year old sister could read things that I couldn’t. I tried my absolute hardest at school and I just couldn't read. I could do everything else such as adding and subtracting and could even writing my name 26 times in a minute but it felt impossible for me to be able to read.