Lost Memories : Lost Loss Of Reading And Writing

As a girl growing up around a group of bikers, boys and two parents who listened to eighties hair bands and metal, you wouldn’t think that I read or was read to frequently before starting school. I pursued in reading quite often, actually. When I finally started school, I had the tendency of keeping to myself and staying quiet. There never have been very many friends in the picture of my life. I learned at a young age that there often are going to be cliques, even when you’re an eight year old in girl scouts. I stood out in more ways than one, but for now I’m only going to elucidate why reading is so salient to me.

My love of reading blossomed when I was a child, because my parents showed me how wonderful reading is. There were countless nights when I remember myself as a little girl refusing to go to sleep before ‘tucking dad into bed’ by reading him a picture book. Not only did I uphold that tradition though, but my mother is a preschool teacher, so she gets really into reading out loud, and she would help me read books such as The Boxcar Children set, The Secret of NIMH and The Chronicles of Narnia weekly until I didn’t need help anymore.

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.

One of my all time passions is reading. I credit my love of reading to my dad, who has spent a great portion of his life reading as well. Some of my earliest memories are of my dad reading Harry Potter to me and my siblings, though I was the only child listening. My love of reading has only grown since then. Through reading I have learned about countless worlds and thousands of stories. I have discovered myself in between the pages of many different books, and I have learned more about people and the world arund me. Of all the ways to spend time, reading may be my absolute

Before I began elementary school, I enjoyed reading picture books, the touch and feel books and pop-up books. I loved the author Dr. Suess, because he was funny and because I loved the rhyming he did in his writing. I can remember before bed, my mom or dad would read to me until I got old enough to read myself. My mom has always enjoyed reading, if she is not reading a book, then she is reading a recipe or a magazine. My dad on the other hand, I have only seen him read one book, besides reading manuals for his tools. Reading was not a big deal in my house, all of us kids were told that we needed to read, but they did not force us to read. This brings me to Richard Rodriguez’s essay, in his household reading was not as important, but once he got to school, he realized that reading is one of the main activities. I can relate to Rodriguez because in either one of our households we weren’t told that we had to read before we did something else. Once I got to elementary school is when I realized that reading was not for me. Before school, I enjoyed reading, then once I began elementary school, I was forced to read, take tests over books, and read out loud in front of the class which made reading a chore.

When I was little, I loved to have my parents read to me all the time. At first, I didn’t learn to read because I didn’t want to read the “Learn to Read” books and preferred for my parents to read to me. I remember sitting with my Dad and following along while he read Harry Potter aloud to me and traced the words with his finger. Then we started to take turns reading aloud. I started to read more and more by myself after I was able to read the first chapter of Harry Potter (with a little bit of help). Then I worked my way through the rest of the book. I loved how reading let you explore new worlds and different points of view.

Throughout my childhood I enjoyed reading a variety of books as a method of escaping my troubles and delving into someone else’s world for a short time. But it is my belief that being an avid reader also helped me become

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go,” wrote by Dr. Seuss. Whether it’s a blog, tweet, text, newspaper, novel, or a poem, people have always read to expand the mind. They read to escape the moment, to gain information, and to help direct them. On pewinternet.org a survey by Kathryn Zickuhr and Lee Rainie, show that in 2013 only 76% of Americans 18 and older have read a book in the past year. As I consider my reading experiences, I realized reading has provided relieve and comradeship on my journey, guiding me and forming my current feelings on reading. Hence my reading memories have befallen parable in my life.

I never had a passion to read when I was younger in grade school. I never liked to read, unless it was any of the “Black Lagoon” books then you had my full attention, and if it wasn’t any of those I would not read it for anything. All I wanted was to read those books, and I am pretty sure I read almost all of them I liked them so much. I especially did not like reading when teachers would make us read at night and fill out a reading chart to go along with it and would make our parents sign it so they made sure that we really did read everyday. It was pure torture for me. I dreaded the reading. My teachers even gave us prizes and treats for reading at home and I still did not want to read. One year I did not tell my mom that I had a reading log and was required to

Moving into middle school, I expected to continue to love reading, and that was true at some points during this time. However, it was also marked with times where I loathed reading, it had become a chore. I still loved reading fiction, and my winter break in eighth grade included long readings from The Mysterious Benedict Society series; but I would struggle in attempts to really enjoy what literacy was meant to be. Reading was no longer

Emilie Buchwald once said, “Children are made readers on the laps of their parents.” This quote means to me that children learn reading from their parents. People read every day-- from newspapers, blogs, or Facebook posts, to traffic signs. Most people read for escape, entertainment, and instruction. As I consider my reading experiences, I realize they represent the journey I have traveled, leading me to my current academic path.

The people closest to me have inspired to be a devoted reader. My parents are dedicated readers. They each have their own bookshelf that they fill completely with their favorite books and authors. My dad’s bookshelf has (probably) every book written by Stephen King. My mother has the same devotion to Nora Roberts. I have always been amazed by how my parents treated reading: every time a new Stephen King book comes

Writing has always been something I dread. It’s weird because I love talking and telling stories, but the moment I have to write it all down on paper, I become frantic. It’s almost as if a horse race just begun in my mind, with hundreds of horses, or words, running through my mind, unable to place them in chronological order. Because I struggle to form satisfying sentence structure, it takes me hours, sometimes even days, to write one paper. It’s not that I think I’m a “bad writer,” I just get discouraged easily. Needless to say, I don’t think highly of my writing skills. When I was little I loved to both read and write. I read just about any book I could get my hands on, and my journal was my go to for my daily adventures. Although it’s

As a child, what I can remember most about reading was that I did not have a natural proclivity to reading at first; but I did enjoy it when my oldest sister would read books to my brother and me. I would always request that if she could read a story before I went to bed, whenever I was staying at her house. She for as long as I could remember has always put an importance on working on work that is mandatory and then having fun after. Also, during my elementary school years, I began to start reading more and more books, like Harry Potter, the Magic Tree House books, and the Series of Unfortunate events, to name a few. I would always lug a couple of books home to read, for when I was finished with homework or the times during class when there was free time (school was a place that I remember reading the most). Sadly, I do not read as many books as I did then, but I am starting to get back into the rhythm of it. For example, I have been reading a slew of different articles weekly, to test my level of patience and willingness to read – school for me, and most my friends, have felt that forced reading diminished the will to read independently. Since school has been a factor in whether I enjoy the work I do, it has changed my feelings of being happy to read or being agitated because I want the information instantaneously, not spend the time to search for it. And that stemmed throughout my childhood and into today. I am gearing up to read new novels from today and possibly

From an early age I loved to read. At just two years old I would beg my mother to enroll me into school. I watched as my older sister meticulously picked out her outfit each night in preparation for the next school day. At such a young age I somehow knew that this thing called “school” was the answer to something spectacular. My home was chaotic and reading became an escape and helped distract me from the unpleasant family dynamic.