How To Write An Autobiography Essay

I have always loved to write, and it became even more evident when I entered elementary school. I quickly befriended a girl named Beth, who lived just down the road from me. One afternoon that I remember in particular was in the middle of the summer. She and I were set to write a book. We had read countless storybooks on our own, and we could not see why we could not write one too. We sat down with a notebook and two pencils, and we were set to go.

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

I’d say that being bilingual it is something that has been implemented to my life at a very young age. I come from a Mexican family, a very traditional Mexican family, we love being together and always take advantage to celebrate in any occasion and if there is not a special occasion we make up one just to gather and have a good time. Most of my cousins understand and speak clearly English. Also my aunt married an American and the funny thing is that her children look completely American, in the sense that they are blonde, blue eyes, white skin, and they speak Spanish and English fluently, they are just 3 and 4 years old. What I’m trying to portray is that bilingualism is very present not only in the bilingual school I was enrolled as an infant, but it is very present as well in all of my family. I think that the best way to learn a language is to practice it continuously, but the best method out there is practicing it with native speakers and living on their country where that language is spoken. The journey on learning English for me has been very fun and enriching at the same time.

As far as I can remember, I’ve always been fond of reading. However, writing and speaking did not come naturally to me. It took some time and the inspiration of others to develop my writing and speaking intuitive.

My literacy journey had begun earlier than most kids, according to my mother. I started reading in kindergarten, with help with the BOB books and the PBS show Between the Lions. I don’t know when I had started writing exactly, but I remember clearly writing short stories about my cat Stormy in 3rd grade. At that time we had to write weekly short stories, and I only ever wrote about my cat. In 4th grade, I had started exploring writing more; I would write plays for me and my friends to practice during recess. Most of them, I’m happy to say, were actually educational, so my teacher had even let my friends and I perform one about early-American settlers in front of our whole class.

One of my first literacies I learned started as a simple extracurricular activity my mother put me in to keep me out of the house and out of her hair. I started learning a literacy of dance through taking classes. At three years old I start ballet and tap combo class, from there I continued taking more classes in different styles and taking more advanced classes. By dancing for 15 years I learned and acquired extensive knowledge of the art. I started to learn and take class at Marta Jackson School of dance, I continued my training for fifteen years, until my senior year of high school. I danced on my high school dance team, at other studios, in different local productions and even in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

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.

First grade, after a long day of school and learning what the deal was with shapes, I come home and get to watch TV, no homework or worries (first graders with homework? Yeah right) then I eat dinner, and get ready for bed. My parents tuck me in and begin to read me a story from my favorite author at the time. Dr. Seuss. The rhyming and the pictures and the one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. How does he come up with this stuff? Pure genius. Even after my parents turn off my room light, I sneak some light from my game boy and read more because I just can’t wait for the next night to read again. These were my first memories of reading and ever since then I try and recapture the feeling of pure bliss I had when I first heard my parents read to me just before bedtime.

Writing and reading for me started really young with me. I was learning to read and write before I was 2. My mom was teaching me and I had a Phonex person come to my house and would help. I was a year younger than almost everybody else in my kindergarten class. I was able to go into school younger because I scored high enough on a test I had to take. I was always reading books when I could when I was young which is why I was able to read bigger words than most kids my age could. I was able to read at a 4th grade level when I was in 1st grade. This all fell in place because my dad was always telling me to read and write when I had free time if I wanted to be better than everybody. When I was younger I always trying to be better

Imagine living a life in Spain, then one day the job gets transferred to Texas in the United States of America. Now getting accustomed to this job may be hard because of the new environment, but adapting to the culture may be even harder. Well this problem can be eliminated because bilingual education should be required in all American kindergarten through twelfth-grade school systems. Not only should students be required to take one class a year, there should also be alternative elective courses of foreign languages. There are many benefits of learning a language that is not profound to a specific person. One is that learning a new language is a great way of meeting new people and making friends. Another possible positive outcome is that new language is an excellent source for traveling and could benefit a person’s employment opportunities. The United States should provide bilingual education to students in kindergarten through twelfth-grade because learning another language is good for meeting new people, traveling and expanding employment opportunities.

When growing up in California and Texas, having bilingual students in a classroom was a normal situation for me. It was never weird or strange that I had peers in the classroom who spoke a different language than me. It was something I grew up to expect and see in all my classrooms. When researching this topic, I felt that I learned a lot of new valuable information such as the principles of transferring language to students.

My earliest memory of writing is when I was in first grade. The writing assignment was to write something exciting that happened over the summer. I chose to write about how I became a big sister. It was a short assignment, with mostly pictures instead of words. I wrote about how exciting it was to be a big sister for the first time. She was like a cool new toy that I just wanted to play with.

My first memory of ever being exposed to reading was when i was six years old and my mom started introducing books before bed. She came home one day with a bag full of books and a smile on her face, she had just received some of the books and stories dad would read to her when she was a kid. She told me that she would get tucked into bed and her dad would let her pick a different book every night until there were no new ones to choose from. They would then makeup tales and "write" their own stories that was a fond childhood memory she had and she wanted me to have as well. This tradition is something i really admire and look forward to sharing with my children one day. That is the first memory i have of ever being exposed to reading and i am

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.

A blue oval carpet with the alphabet circling around the carpet is where I sat for story time. I vividly remember sitting down on the letter “J” of the carpet. I criss crossed apple sauced my legs, my favorite position for storytime at the library. Mrs. Fernandez, the first grade librarian, read “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie”, this is my first memory of reading. The librarian would read word by word, indicating what she was reading and of course she would show off the pictures. After she finished reading my classmates and I would sit in large tables and were handed a piece of paper with crayons and pencils in a box. “Alright class, now it’s time to write about your favorite part of the story, please include a drawing as well.” I began to recall all parts of the story. I was able to retell the story perfectly. I began with my drawing and when I got to the writing section I struggled. My weakness was spelling and grammar. I wasn’t able to spell what I had in mind. No matter how hard I tried I always missed a letter, forgot an apostrophe, mistakenly added a comma, etc. While other students had their summary with a picture completed I was still in battle with my mind in how to put together my first sentence. I felt so ashamed and embarrassed. Finally the librarian helped me put my thoughts together to write my sentence.