Reflective Essay About Reading

My earliest reading memory was when I was five with the little golden book series. I loved getting new books and reading them. But most of all I loved when my mother read to me so I could look at the pictures as my imagination went wild with stories about Jack climbing up the beanstalk or a king searching a kingdom for a worthy princess.

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

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

My earliest memories of being read to was when I was about four or five years old, my mom had read me princess books along with cat in the hat ones. She knew that in order for me to fall asleep, she had to read me a couple pages of the book I wanted. The earliest memory I have of writing was when I started Pre-K, there I began to learn how to write my name. Like most little kids, my handwriting wasn’t the best but It improved over time. I only remember the teacher would give us a worksheet full of colors and we had to learn how to write them out. In Pre-K the students were basically forced to take a nap, before that nap the teacher that I had read us maybe ten pages of a book. All of my memories were

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.

Most of what I can remember from my childhood is being read to by my mom and her teaching me how to read, alongside my older sister. During the day all that I wanted to do was have my mom read to me, so she would. And every night before I went to bed she would let me pick one book for her to read to me. It was my favorite part of everyday. It wasn’t just at home that people would read to me, my grandma would too whenever we went to her house. She had this book full of short stories that always had a good lesson at the end. I loved hearing my grandma’s soothing voice right before I fell asleep. My favorite book was “One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish” by Dr. Seuss. Since my mom read it to me at least once everyday, I began to memorize it. I wasn’t actually reading the words on the page, I just knew the story so well that I could recite it.

Sitting on a colorful blanket and listening to my mom read books from Disney was my first memory of learning how to read. She could read word by word, making those face expressions that used to make me feel excited and of course she would show off the pictures. She finished reading and then she gave me a little purple notebook, where I used to practice how to spell my name and practicing the alphabet. Those are the first memories I have about learning how to read and write.

My earliest memories of reading was when my mom sent me to bible school and the teacher would read out a hand book

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.

I was not the kind of kid who his mother would read stories at bedtime. I was being taught on how to read and write on my first year at elementary school, this is where my earliest memories laid. My first time writing was as practice for calligraphy, and my earliest memory of reading is at first grade. There was a book for first graders to learn how words sound; it was a blue book I remember. Another thing that comes to my memory when remembering those times is how me and the other children would compete on who was reading better and the funny thing is not even one of us knew how to, it was something completely unknown to us. These few memories I have are mostly positive as it was fun to learn new things with my new friends those being

I don’t recall learning to read; it is possible I picked it up when my sister, only 16 months older than I, was learning. Nonetheless, my earliest memory of reading was in preschool. I wasn’t reading in this memory, although I could, but I was standing in front of my preschool group too terrified to speak. We had been listening to my teacher read while sitting in the jungle gym. Everyone was excited because only the Sun Bears (school-aged children who can for after school care) were ever allowed on this particular piece of equipment. In middle of the reading Curious George, my teacher paused, “Chelsea,” she said, “you mama told me this morning that you read this book to her all the time at home! Would you like to read for the class?” I most

Reading has always been something I’ve enjoyed doing; because of my mother’s enthusiastic teaching, by the age of six I was reading books on the level of The Chronicles of Narnia. By the age of eight, I had read most of the books we owned, at least, those I was permitted to read at that age. As I got older, my spare time became far more limited and divided, as demands from school increased and my family grew. I did, however, focus extensively on my favorites. One of the books I most frequently read was The Lord of the Rings, and while my enthusiasm for the trilogy has somewhat dimmed, I did read The Return of the King at least four times. Similarly, I was strikingly struck by Brian Jacques’ Redwall series, which, along with the

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 life as a reader has been like a rollercoaster, I had ups and downs. There had been times where I would read regularly and my reading level would go up and there had been times where I completely stopped reading and my reading level dropped drastically.

There is then the serious reading undertaken for research and for satisfying one's longing for knowledge. It may be a subject of scientific significance, or a subject of historic or philosophic importance - varying according to the taste of the person. This kind of reading disciplines the mind and trains one for critical and original thinking. There is yet another kind of reading -reading for pleasure. Though serious reading is also a source of pleasure, reading which is devoted mainly to it differs in one respect. It grows upon one, it gives before demanding and it soothes and relieves tension and loneliness. The only kind of reading which neither stimulates thought nor provides knowledge is one which is approached negatively, with the simple motive of escape and of "killing" time.