The History Of My Lyrics

I didn’t always enjoy reading and writing.Yes, I know what you’re thinking: what an ignorant. Well, it’s true. My relationship with reading and writing has been an emotional rollercoaster, with soaring highs and disheartening lows.In fact, I started working on essays until I was sixteen. However, by some chance it has led me to where I’m at today, and for that I am most happy.

From childhood I did not love writing and did not put much effort into developing my writing skills. Although I used to hate writing, I did love reading from the moment I remember myself. I think the reason why I didn’t like writing is because I used to like just absorbing information rather than expressing my opinion about it on the paper. I believe that my mom was the one, who flourished in me love to books and reading. My mom is a doctor and she loves to read. She does not only read books connected with her profession, but also books that are not necessarily connected with medicine. When I was a child she used to read to me the story books. Most of my memories from

Just like with many aspects of myself many things helped in the contribution of my reading and writing skills. It was a bit difficult in the beginning learning to read and write in English since I learned to read and write in Spanish first. Both languages being pretty similar kind of screwed me up as a child so it took me longer to learn to read and write in English. Which in turn is why I was put in the ELD for many years. I did eventually test out of it before starting middle school, but that’s when my dislike for reading and writing started. Being in those programs they made us read and write even more than the normal students would. I would think now that all that work should have made me better at reading and writing but in turn it made me resent those very things and not any better at them. Another thing that made it worse was my family status, things in my home were complicated to say the least, but the way I was affected academically was because neither of my parents really cared for my education, so I was never made to read or write at home. Those two main things are where my dislike for both things originated. Since I never thought they were important other than to just get a grade in a class. All these things helped contribute to the type of reader and writer that I am today.

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.

I would read books that would encourage me to draw. My parents would always make me read as a child, which helped me increase my knowledge and ideas that opened my mind. I would then use my art to express my knowledge and ideas I had learned from reading. As my childhood years passed and I enter middle school, my attitude went towards a much more deviant direction. I was the class clown, and would always get into trouble with my middle school crew. Which wasn’t beneficial for me. I was no longer into reading or writing. My perspective on school changed, as did my grades, and my attitude towards school. My perspective on school didn’t change, until I was a freshman in high

In the 5th grade I had a teacher that taught me the basis for where all my reading and writing skills come from today. I still use little hints and trick while writing that I encountered way back in the 5th grade. For instance, she taught me a trick to spell friend, she said friend ends in “end”. She also taught me one of the most basic rules of English; I before E except after C. The only thing I remember about my 6th grade English class is that I absolutely hated it. I do not know for sure whether it was the teacher or the repetitive structure of the assignments but my attitude towards English class took a turn for the worst. My 8th grade year is where I had to start getting serious about English again because I was going to be a big high school student the following year. This was the year where I started paying attention to the structure and techniques used while writing. This is also where my reading comprehension skills started to

Furthermore, my initial knowledge of the writing process and stages of writing was pretty straight forward; hook, introduction, body paragraph, and conclusion. I also have always written a first draft and went through several stages of editing until the final draft was complete throughout my junior high writing experience. During the writing process, I always struggled with grammar and awkward phrasing, and even after several rounds of peer, parent, and individual editing I would always lose significant amount of points for conventional errors and awkward phrasing. Thus, my feelings towards writing were commonly negative and hateful both inside and outside the classroom. Therefore, in my mind writing was always considered an endless chore, one that was never practiced recreationally or creatively. Even though, I generally detested writing, I still found a slight sense of pleasure and fulfillment when I turned in a piece of writing that I had worked very

When I was in the first grade there was a state mandated test that all first graders took to determine what skill level we were at with our reading and writing. I was really excited about this test because, I loved reading and writing so I felt I was good at it. However after the test results came back I was put in a reading and writing recovery program. For obvious reasons I was extremely disappointed, and determined to get back into my regular class. As the year progressed I became increasingly better with reading and writing, by the end of that year I was 2 grade levels above what I was supposed to be at. I even had my “Young Authors” book put into to finals, I got to go to a seminar at MSSU about writing. I like to look back on that memory because it reminds me that I can do anything I put my mind to no matter where I start. As years go by my passion for reading and writing keeps growing. My 8th grade year, however, was probably my worst year yet. I really struggled with motivation to do my work, to go anywhere, to see anyone, I really just wanted to stay in my room by myself all the time. Then I kind of rediscovered my love for reading and, would read all the time, it even got to the point where I would read multiple books a week. In reading I was able to find a whole new life, I was able to become the character and put myself in the story, I had their feelings, I experienced the things they experienced, I had their personalities, I was the story. Being able to read, I

imaginable. My abject hatred for writing blossomed in the early grades and carried over into high

My earliest impressions of writing is that it was fun. Grab a crayon, make a letter, and get a gold star. Once, in third grade I even wrote a book about a cat and a mouse for the kindergarten class without being prompted. Although, after discussing the theme with a

I hated reading. I hated school. I hated when the teacher would call on me to read aloud to the class, and how I would instantly clam up. I hated how I had to admit I didn’t know the

I used to loathe reading and writing. I still do. There is however, a difference between my feelings regarding reading and writing in my past compared to my feelings now. I didn’t know who I was or what my thoughts were on many subjects. I also had trouble connecting with the stories I was reading. The main turning point in my attitude towards reading was in my ninth grade English class. My teacher, Mrs. Schultz, taught me, or maybe I finally decided to listen, and I found a deeper meaning and moral compass in the book we read. From then on, I looked at literature in a different light.

From games you played as children to names of people you meet, past experiences change the way you feel about objects or activities all the time. Sometimes for the better, and other times they become tarnished with your negative connotation to the object. When I was younger I loved to read and write. I tried writing my own books and poems for fun nearly every night, and then I would later read them to my mother. Previously in school, my teachers rarely assigned written assignments other than the occasional journal entry. Then one year in elementary school, we started getting assigned to write very specific things with a multitude of rules and directions I had to follow on a regular basis. I quickly began to hate these assigned readings and writings and gradually fell out of love with words. My elementary school eventually saw how I did not enjoy the assignments from my grades and made the assumption that I was slower at learning than most of the class. Everyday they began to pull me and a few other kids out of class to teach us to spell, read, write and sometimes even speak. This embarrassed me because I knew the other kids knew only the “dumb” kids were taken to other classes. It took until eighth grade for me to finally start reading in my free time, however till this day I still cannot stand writing.

Task 1. When I reflect on my academic writing history, I can vividly remember the name of the people that shape my attitude, belief or emotion about writing. It all began, when I was in 6th grade. My teacher at the time, Mrs Postma, would gave us spelling quiz on Fridays. At first, I hated it so much because for one, I just came straight from Togo, and secondly, I’m just starting to learn English words. The words she would quiz us on are words that we had spent the week learning. Sometimes, she would give us hints on difficult words, but still I was struggling to understand those hints. We did this twice in every month for the entire year. At the end of the school year, my view on these vocabularies changed. I enjoyed the quizzes and began speaking fluently in English by the end of the year. A couple years later, I started high school and during my freshman year, my teacher, Mrs. Sisco would have us turn in a book report every week. She would challenge us and she grades hard; it is not easy to get an A in her class. Because of this, I always work hard to write well so that I could get A, but I never seem to get it until the second semester of my freshman year. Mrs. Sisco is one of those teachers that shape my attitude on writing. She did not let me get A with anything I turned in. Although I’m not best at writing yet, I know I would not be where I am in writing today without her critics, challenges and of course the help of God.

When I arrived in a classroom, the teachers would tell us to take a book from the bookshelf. We started out by learning the alphabet, then we used the letters to create words. With those words, we would have to pronounce them to the best of our ability. After that, the teachers would give us binder paper and crayons. The book was used to teach us how to write and read. Me along with other students would copy each page of a book word for word, while slowly reading each word. This made me feel depressed after a good