My Reflection On My Parents Instilled

At this point in my life I find myself in an interesting predicament regarding my attitudes toward reading and writing; more so towards reading. Years ago I used to love reading books for pleasure but nowadays I find myself reading things that little to no effort to digest. This includes the very basic posts on facebook expressing one’s opinion on something or articles and threads on reddit discussing topics I find intriguing. Perhaps it’s the severe senioritis that has overcome me as I enter my last semester at Chapman University. As I’ve gotten lazier I can see it start to reflect in my everyday life. Deep down I still love to read but I rarely find myself getting truly invested into the action unless it relates to something I am very

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.

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

Throughout my years of schooling, I have become ambivalent about reading and writing. I have struggled in school to make myself enjoy writing. I didn’t mind reading as much, as long as it was to my interest. It has differed throughout the years I have been in school. Some years I have enjoyed both, reading and writing, and other years I have not liked either. Getting myself to enjoy reading and writing has been quite the adventure.

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.

When I was younger, the amount of obligations upon me fewer and less likely to affect life in the long term, it was far easier to pursue my passion for fiction. School consumed less time, and the classes were introductions to various principles rather than in depth study. The books contained within the library of my elementary school weren’t great works of literature either. They were simple stories, with simple characters and events, but I loved them anyways. These simple things made sense, a comfort blanket that I simply had to reach into a basket on a shelf to find. When library time rolled around every week, I always managed to find three or four new ones to take home, and then read them all within a day or two. I had never been a particularly athletic child; I had the time and the will to devour as many stories as I possibly could.

My passion for reading began the summer before junior high, the English class I would be taking had a required summer reading list. I had no desire to read “boring books” over the summer and summarize them. Fortunately, my parents made me read the first book and I was hooked. Consequently, I became obsessed (in a positive way) with this unbelievable adventure; “The Hatchet” by Gary Paulsen; transported me to the wilderness that summer and sparked my love for reading. From that moment on reading became my favorite pastime. Literature expanded my world beyond the Rio Grande Valley I visited the “Island of the Blue Dolphins”, and decided I needed dogs with “Where the Red Fern Grows”. I have several beloved books that I never get tired of reading,

Growing up I was a very avid reader. I remember the first books I successfully read by myself. They were a series directed towards preschoolers called, “Where’s Spot?” written by Eric Hill. There are over twenty books in the Spot series and I’m damn sure I read every single one of them. I would come home ever day after preschool and kindergarten and read the Spot books aloud as I was walking around the house. If you can’t already tell, I was a very self-absorbed child. And although the books are extremely simple, with about one word on each page, and any human being older than ten can probably tell you the exact plot simply based off of the title, I always prided myself in being able to read them. However, soon after I found reading to be a lot less rewarding because as most self-centered children I sought recognition for all my actions, as a dog seeks a treat for being able to do a trick. It became something I was expected to be able to do instead of something I was special for doing.

Reading was the new outlet for my imagination and the stories I read fascinated me. They weren’t too unlike the scripts of computer games or the own stories I came up with on my own, but books actually had the action and emotional aspects written out. And again, while my peers were reading things about growing up, things that had morals and would teach valuable lessons (I remember one book about a shoplifter who had to do community service at an animal shelter), I read real fiction: Jurassic Park, Dragonriders of Pern, Lord of the Rings… Stuff of fantasy and science-fiction that let my mind stray from reality. Stuff that kept my imagination alive while I was being forced to learn multiplication and the names of countries. Of course, my teachers encouraged me to keep reading, as long as I wasn’t doing the reading in the middle of their lectures. But it wasn’t because of their influence, however, that kept me interested in books. It was because I loved it. It put pictures into my head and made me think. So I kept reading. But even then I knew reading wasn’t enough… Yes, the stories were fascinating, but they weren’t what I wanted. Back then I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but as middle school came to a close, I found it.

Reading has been one of my favorite hobbies since I was a little child. I grew up as a normal child should grow and eventually I had to start learning for me to fit in society. My literacy started many years ago, after I knew how to talk and communicate with people. Reading my alphabet was quite stressful and I had to be given a hand by my family members. I remember my parents reading with me and it was the most meaningful and memorable way to spend time with me. This is because I liked reading a lot and I was eager to learn so that I could fit in with my older siblings. My favorite books were storybooks taking about adventures and fairytales

My reading experiences have always been enjoyable. I love to read when I find an interesting book. It’s easy for me to be sucked into a book if the story catches my eye. I mostly like to read teen romance novels. They appeal to me simply because of my interest in a love story. My parents hate buying me books because they know I’ll be finished reading within a week or so. Reading has always been really easy to me. It seems almost natural to be sucked into other worlds. The words start to flow over the pages and suddenly it feels like I’m not even reading anymore. Unless I have to read a book for school or it doesn’t catch my attention, I might have a hard time bringing myself to read it.

Reading is something that is taught to everyone in their early childhood, the time I learned to read I was very fond of books. I loved to read novels to myself and to read them out loud to my sister. I like reading action, thriller, historical fiction, and mystery. During my early childhood we would have challenges of reading such as wrapped up and reading, golden dragon. These were reading challenges for students to read 20-25 specific grade novels during the school year and at the end you got a party if you read at least 5-10. I used to love reading and at that time I would read at least 20 books because I wanted to go to the party and win something with the lottery tickets I got. My childhood was fulI of reading, even if I read because I was greedy and I read because of the party, it still improved my reading level. As I grew and grew my reading

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

As a child, my interests were more focused on reading than writing. In elementary school I fell in love with books. Initially I read simple children’s books, much like everybody else in my class, but it did not take long for my passion to drive me to read more difficult writings. Fiction books quickly became a replacement for any childhood toys. Instead of blocks or stuffed animals I would ask my parents for books. Since they were aimed at young readers, they tended to be short. I found myself going through them within days, and then soon several hours. Towards the end of elementary school I was reading series like Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. I was captivated, and reading truly opened up a whole new world for me.