My First Trip To The Library

From early on in school you learn that reading is going to be something truly important in your life and are given books to read all the time, but at what point did you actually start to accept and enjoy reading in your life? Literacy sponsors are “the people, institutions, materials, and motivations” (Deborah Brandt (167)) that shape who you are as a reader, in my life my literacy sponsor was my grandparents since they are the ones who gave me many of my favorite books and helped me keep up with my older cousins’.

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.

In Ray Bradbury’s fictional novel about the horrifying future, he discusses topics that, politically and socially, can relate to Judith Ortiz Cofer’s short story; The Paterson Public Library. These two pertain to each other because both Bradbury’s and Cofer’s characters are afraid of situations that involve books. Though they do compare in many ways, there are also differences between the stories.

On the first week of school in second grade, my teacher, Ms. Byrd, took us to the library to check out a book. I wasn’t very excited at the time because reading used to bore me. I viewed reading to be a hassle rather than a way to gain knowledge. As our class marched up the ramp leading into the library, we were immediately greeted by a fragile old woman with hair as grey as a pack of Alaskan wolves. The old lady turned out to be the school librarian. She was extremely enthusiastic about reading and asked the class “who is excited to pick out a book today?” All of my classmates swung

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.

Some of my earliest memories of reading and writing took place in preschool. My former teacher, Mrs. Williams always made reading a fun and new experience which helped encourage us to read. I remember always being excited to read a new book as if I were embarking on a new adventure. My mother also encouraged me to read by reading to my brother and I at bedtime. She also gave us plenty of genres to choose from. Even though my dad did not reach much, my mom was very much interested in books about British crime mysteries. My brother, on the other hand, read anime’ comics and video game instruction pamphlets. Although reading has not been my strongest subject, the subject has always been part of my life.

My mom signed me up for the community library when I just turned 6 years old. Even if I did not know how to properly read at the time, I had to go there every afternoon to keep myself busy as an only child. Being opened to books at such an early clearly has had a major impact on my life and personality. From the local tales of my beloved Senegalese society to the deep and sophisticated French literature, I have traveled through cultures and generations. Whether it is Emile Zola’s collection of novels or Albert Camus’s philosophical texts, these books raised me and taught me about life, love, and resilience. As times went by, reading was no more a regular pastime but a detrimental part of my existence. The lessons and morality I gained from each story always pushed me to challenge the status quo, to be curious, to be adventurous but most importantly to be a problem solver.

A library is filled with diversity. Magazines, newpapers, computers, books of all shapes, sizes, colors, and genres line the shelves in hopes of being read. Personal and childhood experiences are often like books on a library shelf. Like a book, childhood experiances may be very similair but the outcome of adulthood or ending of a story are never the same.

It may be cliché, but books have always held a spot close to my heart. When I was three I had a book called Bitsy Witch that went wherever I did. When I was seven, my mom read a chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone every night. In middle school, I worked my way through the entire children’s section at my local library. In high school, I took every English class offered, and when I entered college I to compromise with my family that I would also pursue a pre-professional program. My time outside of class was spent on my pre-professional degree until, my senior year in college. I took two classes that focused on children’s and young adult texts. Before those classes, I hadn’t realized that specializing in Children’s literature was

I’ve always been an avid reader. When I was in elementary school, my mother would take my brother and I to the library every week to pick out books. I would take the books to school and read them all in one day. I loved reading so much that my teachers would call home and tell my parents that I was reading my library books during class instead of my textbooks. Reading has always been a major part of my life. I used to aspire to become an author. I even wanted to become an editor at one point. I used to make daily household newspapers and magazines for my entire family to read and enjoy. My strong love for reading certainly came in handy during my freshman year of high school.

In the beginning, the librarians acted as the mentors to my hero. They scanned Easy Children’s Fiction, introducing me to new friends, new stories, new universes. I braved first grade with Junie B. Jones, memorized Silverstein poems, and climbed tree houses with Jack and Annie. The months went by, the years went by, and eventually,

Our class walked to the library and I pictured my favorite corner. We arrived and began to branch off. Some went to the magazines, others to the Judy Blume or Junie B. Jones books that made our childhood, but me, I kept walking. As I got closer, my heart raced, and my body went faster, without meaning to, out of pure exhilaration for the knowledge that I could possibly absorb. Sitting down, I nuzzled my back against the adjacent shelves and picked up my favorite, Atlas of Human Anatomy. It didn’t matter that I was in fourth grade. I went page by page, studying everything I could within the small amount of time given in the library. The sound of the teacher yelling, “Five minutes everybody,” just made me want to go faster, assuming that I would forever retain everything I saw. If only that was how it worked.

The article that I chose to reflect on is called Creating Passionate Readers, and can be found in the December 2016 issue of Voices from the Middle. This article was written by Mrs. Pernille Ripp, a seventh grade English teacher in Wisconsin. In this article, Mrs. Ripp addresses the issue of students, regardless of their age, abandoning reading for one reason or another. Based on her own personal experience in the classroom, she feels as though students tend to give up on reading altogether, and it is oftentimes up to the teacher to set an example as a role model, and show the students what it means to be a reader. Her personal methods of creating a spark in a child’s life are generally simple in concept, but the impact they have on her students can be life changing.

Do you remember the first book you learned to read? Well, I do and it shaped me into the reader I am today. During my early years in elementary school, I began to learn about what reading was and how to read books. I always remember my kindergarten teacher reading “Love you forever” before I would go to nap time everyday. I eventually learned to read my favorite childhood book on my own. However, this was a problem when I didn't want to branch out and read books to better my reading skills. Reading and writing are such and important aspect in our lives that get abused every day. It may sound silly, but as a young child I came in contact with books that impacted me, changed me, and shaped me into the reader and writer I am today.

At this point in my life, reading would definitely not make a list of my favorite things to do, but this wasn’t always the case. Some of my youngest memories involve reading, and many of these memories are enjoyable. Every night before bed my mom would read to me, and I remember begging to read just one more before she tucked me in almost every night. This is when my love for reading sparked. Throughout grade school, I continued to read frequently and never found it to be a chore; however, once middle school hit I no longer included reading as a past time or found it pleasurable. Looking back now I realize this was when English class included more forced literature, and school consisted of reading extensive pages in textbooks. Reading