Living With A Teacher With My Mother

Like many parents, mine were supportive of my learning and development at an early age and as I grew, they read to me along with other learning techniques. My mother and father read various children 's books to me in their spare time; and after I had matured some had me read along as well. The books we read together consisted of fairy tale books and short stories such as The Turtle and the Hare. Reading together helped me learn a wider variety of words and inspired myself to pursue reading at an early age on my own. When I was around the age of four or five; my mother and father bought me the leapfrog read along toy as a birthday gift. The toy came with children’s books and a pen that was used to follow along as

Ever since I was younger I have always tried staying away from reading. The only person in my family that likes to read is my mom; however, she does not read often. Once she picks up a book, she cannot put it down. My dad on the other hand, never picks up a book. He and I are one in the same; we do not like reading because we have a hard time comprehending what we read. My brother also does not like to read. He does not like reading because he has a learning disability. My mom always had an extremely tough time getting him to read. Overall, my literacy experiences at home are few and far between.

I have acquired many literacy opportunities throughout my literacy life my parents, grandparents, and teachers ,I hold them very close to my heart because if it wasn’t for them pushing and encouraging me to read and write I wouldn’t be the literate person I am today. I bear a huge family so there are always many voices going through my head so it wasn’t long until I started speaking, as well as comprehending what all these strange words meant recognizing the words was very difficult before I started practicing them. My parents always encouraged me to read and write in a way no child can resist with toys and candy who could say no to that. Every chance they got to help me read they would read with me. I wasn’t forced to read on my own because I didn’t know how.

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

My mother taught me how to read at a young age. She read to me before I could read which helped me learn new words and develop a basic understanding of literature at an early age. When it came time for me to attend elementary school, I remember heading to the library quite often. Books were organized based on what was thought to be the appropriate reading material for that grade level. I often found myself wandering down the isles with the older kids. I’m so grateful my mother encouraged reading as much as she did. If she hadn’t, it’s very possible I could have struggled with reading. If this were true, I wouldn’t have learned as much as I did, or had the desire to read, which is very important in order to become as advanced in literature as possible.

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.

    As a child I was a very eager learner, I always wanted to learn new things to feed my brain. My desire to learn how to read started when I was introduced to the book, “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” Since I didn't have the ability to read at that age, I would ask my mom to

I remember back in second grade my mom used to read books to me. I remember being all cuddled up in a bed with some hot chocolate by my side, just lying there listening to my mother read me chapters from the books that I was supposed to read. The only reason why she read them to me was because she knew that I was not going to read them myself. It’s not that I couldn’t actually read

My dad started reading to me when I was around the age of four or five. I was specifically interested in the book How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight?. My dad read that to me probably every night for two months, until I could “read” it back to him. The reason “read” is in quotations is because I really only memorized the book and the order he would say the words, but looking back now, I think I give a lot of credit for that time in helping me stay ahead in my reading classes. Being able to recognize what certain words looked like helped me make new words and build sentences a little quicker than most kids my age.

Growing up, both of my grandmothers was school teachers who enjoyed reading to me and my cousins whenever the opportunity arose. Many of my favorite memories as a child learning to read lead back to my favorite book my nana would always read to me, The Napping House by Audrey Wood. I would quote the book cover to cover, before actually learning to read, pretending that I was reading in the meantime. My mother also played an important role in my learning to read and write, she and my nana were always encouraging me to read book series like Junie B. Jones, The Little House on the Prairie, The Boxcar Children, Nancy Drew,

In my earliest years, I can recall one of our projects with my 1st grade teacher. It was very memorable for me, because we went all out for it. The project like most of us in that class remember was to write a story. The story was Flat Stanley. I was mostly ahead of my game in my early years. Then, there came my 5th grade year, The teacher i had in that class always got on me, for not paying attention. I almost got held back that year because i couldn’t focus. That year onward, was a struggle for me.

My mother could have let her reading skills go to waste, but she worked hard to achieve a good career, and reading played an important role in that. That is why I was taught at an early age to read and know how important it is.

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.

Tomorrow was the big day. The day that every student despised, but came every year. The problem that transcends national borders: standardized testing. Before I knew it, it was the final week, and time was running out. In my case, the Connecticut state test, the CMT, was in just two days. More than nervousness, there was a cloud of confusion surrounding this test for us students. Some said that preparation and study are necessary for this test, while most thought just the opposite. Some people were even saying that the scores for these tests somehow will affect our progress in school. Looking back, I don’t remember the test being all that hard, but it didn’t make sense to me. How could this one test, filled with questions that require shallow thinking and zero creativity, show the state the performance of my hard-working teachers, or the individuality and strengths of each student? Or on a larger scale, every student in the entire state?

Reading and writing are two of the most important tools in my life, because without them I would not have an education. They form the basis of a class; for example, completing a lab in chemistry would not be possible without following a written lab procedure. These two skills are taught at such a young age, and as education advances students must continue to strive to reach a higher level. I can remember in elementary school, we were always pushed to reach the next reading level once we had successfully mastered the one we were on. It was always a competition for my sister and I to be at a higher level, I usually won. Even though I was excelling in reading it was the complete opposite for writing. It is something that has never come easy