First Time Writing Autobiography

When I was about five years old, I had gotten used to a certain routine; bathing, drinking milk, then being read to as I fall asleep. Soon the routine had to change, there was no more reading before bed because my mother got a job and was too tired to read to me before bed as a young child I was devastated. I didn't know how to go to bed without hearing the fun that Pooh Bear and his friends had. I was just learning to read myself, my teacher in school could tell I had something special in me when it came to reading. When I left her kindergarten

I have memories of using literacy all the way back to when I was a toddler to now. Reading and writing always came easy to me as little kid from what I can remember. My earliest memories of reading would be from when I was very young, possibly still a toddler or a tad bit older. Every night before bed, my mom and I would sit in my bed, she would read to me. We read Bible stories from the children’s Bible, Goodnight Moon, Cat in the Hat and many other children’s books. That was my favorite part about bedtime when I was little. Although she was reading to me, and all I was doing was listening and wanting to look at the pictures, her reading to me every night was a huge influence for me and was what made me want to learn how to read. I would without

That day I learned something the hard way being scared on a ride. Most people might think about that ride being fun but when being on a ride with having drops you get scared. Especially if you haven't rode any rides that drop. When the place says its suppose to The Happiest Place on Earth!

I can remember the nights after dinner my mother sat and read different kinds of books to us. My sister and I love the Disney book. They were so delightful, like eating candy for the first time. Cinderella was one of my favorite. We clean up took, a bath and brush our teeth and waited on our mother to come read to us. I can remember one time I believe I was about five or six when my mother read Dr. Suess book The Grinch

When my parents first started to read to me, I was not but a year old. They read to me every night, Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown. Goodnight Moon was my favorite bedtime story, and I probably could have recited the whole book word for word back then. It was a book made to lull small kids to sleep with the content of the book. Then, when I grew up a bit, they started reading the Magic Tree House books by Mary Pope Osborne to me. I loved those books because they were interesting and informational. I finally got to the point where I could read the Magic Tree House books by myself, so I read one every night before bed.

My earliest memory of learning how to read was when I was about four or five years old. My siblings were mainly the ones who taught me to read before I even entered elementary school. By the time I did start attending school I was reasonably literate. One vivid memory I have that always comes to mind when I think of how I started reading was of my sister teaching me. We had these square little red Dora the Explorer books that were only 4 pages. My sister would have me read them out loud and waited patiently as I tried to figure the words out and get the pronunciation right. She made sure I was fluent in my reading abilities for that day before I could go play.

I learned to read very young. My Grandma was an aspiring author and created a simple learn to read system called “The Look Book”. I loved the ability to read so young. I was a little celebrity in my mom’s group of friends, they would watch her quiz me in awe of my reading comprehension skills when I was just three years old. Someone even contacted my mom about sending me to a special school for gifted children. I wonder how different I would be now if I were sent there; Maybe my math skills would be fantastic. Reading taught me what an escape was at a very young age. The best feeling in the world from a toddler’s perspective is shutting the door and being able to curl up inside my cold sheets for hours, only hearing the sound of the turning page. The ability to visualize the story as if a movie is being played in your head. Reading was my escape. Reading made me feel safe.

My name is Breigh-Ann Boyce. I live in Pennsylvania. I graduated from Clarion University in May 2016 with my Bachelors degree. Clarion is a small town in northern Pennsylvania. My current certification is Middle Level Education with a mathematics concentration. I have always liked school. I enjoy getting myself organized and ready to learn new things. I think it's important to learn new things so that you can continue to grow as a person. I have found school challenging if I did not manage my time wisely.

I remember every morning my grandparents would read the LA Times newspaper and my grandmother would read the sales pages for the local grocery stores out loud to my grandfather. I would watch her and look at the paper as she read it off to him. I started preschool a year before everyone else my age. I started when I was 3 years old. My Mom would read to me every night. She made reading fun, she ordered personalized books where I was included as a main character. The books were from Disney and Sesame Street. Like Fredrick Douglass I also carried a book wherever I went. I would finish reading books sometimes in a day depending on the size of the

I was born in Rocky Mount, North Carolina in 1981. I went to high school at Northern Nash Senior High and graduated in May 1999. I went to college for a year, then I joined the United States Army on August 1, 2000 as a 31U which is a Signal Support Systems Specialist who specializes in tactical communications and data networks. On March 26, 2003 I had the honor of donating bone marrow to a little girl with acute leukemia. Then on April 29, 2003 deployed to Baghdad, Iraq for fifteen months in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. In 2004 I had the opportunity to get stationed in the Republic of South Korea where I had a two year tour serving my country. While there I enjoyed traveling around the country and experiencing their wonderful culture. I also met my wife and we had our daughter.

Before I could actually read well I remember sitting on the couch in my grandparent’s living room trying to read a Judy B. Jones book but I was holding the book upside down. My mom came in the house to pick me up and asked what I was doing; I simply replied “I am reading my new book mom duh”. She busted out laughing and gave me a huge hug. Throughout elementary school my mother still read to me. We had a book that was called “I’ll Read to You and You’ll Read to Me” which I loved. As I hit

Apparently, the lack of memories regarding important developmental times in a child’s life is hereditary. When asking both parents of their memories of learning to read, they both had similar answers to mine - “I don’t actually remember learning how to read”. Through further questioning, we both know that our parents read to us and encouraged us to read, but that doesn’t change the fact that neither of us actually have strong memories of that point in our lives. This, of course, leads to some questions being somewhat unanswered. Although, when asking my parents what their relationship with reading is and how they felt about it growing up, their opinions were quite similar to my own; that being that reading has always been a fond memory of adolescence that has carried over to an enjoyable pastime as an adult.

My earliest memories of learning to read begin with my brother teaching me the basics of reading before kindergarten. My brother was 11 months younger than me but he was able to read and I could not. At a young age this was extremely beneficial while also humiliating because I felt as if I were extremely behind the learning

The first memories I have as a child are of my mother reading to my brother, father and me. She and my father would sit in the small pale yellow hall outside my brother’s and my bedroom doors and in a modulated voice begin story after story. The tales started out with small books. Some of my favorites were “The Best Loved Doll” by Rebecca Caudill and “A Wrinkle in Time” by Madeleine L'Engle. As time advanced the books became longer and more challenging, to the point where I would sometimes have to stop and ask my mother what a word meant. In this way my parents were able to teach my brother and me as well as create family time after returning home late because of work. Time and pages seemed to fly by until we were reading the

I was determined to figure out words and sound them out. While all of the toys I could possibly want filled the room, the only thing that interested me was books. My favorite stories as a little girl were Goodnight Moon, and Is Your Momma a Llama, which my parents would read to me while they rocked me in my rocking chair before bed. For most of my childhood, I looked forward to bedtime; not because of sleep but because I got to pick out a story for my mom to read to me. My siblings and I would all cuddle up in my mom 's big bed as she read out our stories we picked for the night. Sometimes, we would read bits and pieces ourselves if we knew the words. The fact that my mother still managed to fit in time to spend reading to us after a stressful day at work shows how she wanted to set a good example and demonstrate her love for reading.