Reading And Reading : The Importance Of Reading-Reading

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I’d rather jam my toe on the corner of a table for seven and a half hours than read a book. Okay, that may be a tad drastic, but you get my point. I mean, if I get ahold of an amazing book or get assigned an essay that intrigues me, then I’m all in, but that’s rare anymore. I didn’t always feel so negatively towards reading- reading was a crucial part of my life at a young age. My parents heavily encouraged it by reading to me at bedtime and making sure I always had a full bookshelf. When I was about four, still not able to read or spell very well, my parents would spell out words to each other that they didn’t want my little sister and me to hear. Although this was not necessarily them enforcing reading on us, it lit a fire in me to want to know what they were saying to each other. I became better at putting together the seemingly scrambled letters into words and eventually was able to understand their conversations. So proud of myself, I began to repeat the words my parents would spell such as when they were contemplating on taking my sister and me to the “P-A-R-K,” and I screamed “Makenzie, we’re going to the park!” Mom and Dad weren’t very happy that I could now spell. When talking with my parents, I would join in on the “fun” by spelling out meaningless words in my sentences to make me feel big and important. This small feat that I accomplished made me feel mature and helped me gain the confidence to start chapter books. My reading level began to climb faster and
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