Reading And Reading : The Importance Of Reading

In summary, I felt as if I changed after the fourth grade. Like video games, I could be in a fantasy and pretend I was actually in the hero’s position. I could be a part of a story. This contest of literacy competition started a passion of reading books for me. Now that I’m older if I ever want to escape the real world after having a long hard stressful day all I have to do is crack open a book a let the adventure begin. Even though my teacher never followed through on her promise of a prize I was rewarded with something so much more Important, a burning passion for

There are many important skills that students must learn in school. One important skill would be how to read and write and the other would be how to think critically. These two skills are very important in different ways. However, they are both important skills that will help individuals throughout different times in their lives. The skill of reading and writing can open a door into a new world, a world filled with words. Critical thinking can help with having to make life changing decisions or it can help find a solution to a difficult issue. The skills reading and writing and critical thinking are all important skills in their own way, and they are both important during many aspects of life.

If you couldn’t read or write, how would you tackle your daily life? Being literate is a crucial part of everyone’s life; reading and writing are essential for a person’s success. Every single day, it’s used, whether it’s for an Advanced Placement Language class or reading a billboard as you’re driving past. As a child, I grew up reading on a daily basis and I believe that I am as successful as I am on behalf of it. Countless memories have been created, thanks to the multiple books that have been read and the umpteen amount of papers that I’ve written. Throughout the numerous years of my education, my teachers and parents left a long lasting impact on my reading and writing skills.

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.

The thin rustic pages scrape past my loose fingers as I sit engaged. My heart pounds harder and faster with every word my eyes pass over. My ears hear nothing, even within booming noise. My complete focus is on the book that lays in my hand with a laminated cover, and I have no choice but to submit to the content. My breath tastes of spearmint and the aroma of fresh paper floats past my nose. I couldn’t resist but delve into the worlds and mysteries that books hold. Once opened, everything around me becomes a distant blur. I am hooked. Books have always created an escape for creativity and fancies to run free. Books are used as a medium for reason. Books are formative to the development of human beings. In my instance, books changed my life.

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 spent my childhood consumed by books. I kept one in my bag and took every spare moment that I could to read, even if it was only a page. My parents made my teacher’s promise that I wouldn’t read during recess. In the mornings when they woke me up for school, they found me sleeping, still clutching my book from the night before, unable to put it down in spite of the tug of sleep.

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.

I can't help but laugh when going through my old IEP paperwork from grade school. Most of the teachers concerns were my reading skills, and handwriting. The school threw me into handwriting classes grades 1-5. I'd miss a 1/4th of my regular class just with that. Jokes on them my handwriting is still terrible. From reading all of their paperwork and the dates on them, the reading concerns came from right after my mom passed away. I was more than capable of doing well in that area. In fact, I really loved reading and still do. I just didn't want to be there. I didn't like my peers, and I didn't like them asking about my mom all the time. You know how kids are, they are vicious and sometimes said mean things kids say. The teachers didn't help

Reading and writing is easy for us. We do it everyday. People read billboards driving down the street and we are constantly typing messages to companions on cell phones without giving it a second thought. This idea holds even more true in a college environment. Throughout schooling, students have developed and greatly improved their literacy skills and abilities. Even non-students are often on their phones, reading passages through social media or possibly writing a text to a friend. Language is all around us. Although literacy is all too familiar to the college student, there was a time when even the most intelligent human beings were unable to speak and or write. I personally can recall spelling my name for the first time on the kitchen table. I used my green crayola marker to draw three massive crooked letters.. B, E, N. I was proud of my work and my parents were excited. This was one of my first milestones in my literary journey, however I do not believe it to be the most significant.

When it comes to old memories about how I started to read and write my mind instantly takes me right back to Pre K. Pre-kindergarten was long ago. 13 years ago to be exact. Now a days I don't even remember what I ate last night, let alone accurately remember all of my first memories of reading and writing. But I do remember bits and pieces. Reading and writing growing up was always special to me because both subjects each played a significant part in my life which led me to where I am today.

Reading and writing are both important; you can’t have one without the other. They are skills that are increased constantly due to little things that most times are not noticed. Whether it is from a book to a poem, there will always be a way that it helps out your school performance. Reading and writing in general only helps absorb information, and enhance leisure or school related writing tasks. It has also made life itself so much easier because reading and writing are so beneficial for school and for life. How much you read and write today, will somehow affect your future job, family, position, or even your salary.

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.

Undoubtedly, reading and writing are two of the most useful and important things that people can learn. Through reading and writing, we can feel or transmit our knowledge, thoughts, and feelings. In fact, reading and writing we can learn to educate ourselves and even entertain ourselves through books, magazines, newspapers, etc. However, learning to read and write is not easy. I have had one main problem in my English class with reading. Which, I already overcame. In fact, it helped me to understand the importance that reading has through my first three essays and, to grown to be a better reader and writer.

Reading has at all times and in all ages been a source of knowledge, of happiness, of pleasure and even moral courage. In today's world with so much more to know and to learn and also the need for a conscious effort to conquer the divisive forces, the importance of reading has increased. In the olden days if reading was not cultivated or encouraged, there was a substitute for it in the religious sermon and in the oral tradition. The practice of telling stories at bed time compensated to some extent for the lack of reading. In the nineteenth century Victorian households used to get together for an hour or so in the evenings and listen to books being read aloud. But today we not only read, we also want to read more and more and catch up