Why I Want To Read?

Ever since I was younger I have always tried staying away from reading. The only person in my family that likes to read is my mom; however, she does not read often. Once she picks up a book, she cannot put it down. My dad on the other hand, never picks up a book. He and I are one in the same; we do not like reading because we have a hard time comprehending what we read. My brother also does not like to read. He does not like reading because he has a learning disability. My mom always had an extremely tough time getting him to read. Overall, my literacy experiences at home are few and far between.

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.

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.

In order to truly and fully understand my history with reading, we must go back to the beginning of my narrative. The earliest memory of reading that I can recall is my mom reading me stories like The 10 Little Ladybugs. I absolutely loved when my mom or dad would read to me, and I wanted it to stay that way. I had no intention whatsoever to explore into my own individual reading endeavors. It seemed that my prayers would be answered, at least for a few years. It wasn't until I was in first grade that reading came back into the forefront of my very short attention span. We had started learning how to read, and I wanted nothing to do with it. My teacher, my parents, and even a few of my friends would try and get me to open a book but to no avail. This utter refusal to read

Many of my teachers were unwilling to spend one-on-one time with me to allow me to understand at the correct pace, that was until last year when Sarah Wansley stepped in and really helped me to understand grammar, reading, and writing. The most recent book I read was Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom, although the book was required for a school project I now consider it to be my favorite book. During the research of Alboms memoir I learned not only how to research and look at the background and continuations of some novels, but also that there are books for everyone to enjoy and get lost in no matter how many book you have read and found completely boring. I often found reading to be just that, reading, I never digested and understood the text. I would read a sentence and two seconds later I could not tell you a single word of it, because I was never digesting the words on the page to make sense. That is the main reason I did not enjoy many books assigned for school, I would only read it to answer the questions on the study guide and then a majority of the time I would fail the tests because I never took the extra time to enjoy the

I remember as a kid, how my parents use to take me to the library every month pick out a book. My parents would let me take at least two to three books home with me and they would read to me every other night before bed. When I first started elementary school, my parents learned that I had a learning inefficiency. That was when I was put into to the special program with Ms. Quick. When I started to progress in school my parents were literally forcing me to read a book every other day. As started getting older, I started to not to like reading because it was always little things that I would struggle with but my parents didn’t give up on me. From third to fifth grade, my parents were making me read chapter books; every night before bed my parents made me read a story to them for thirty minutes and afterwards, they would ask me to give an explanation on what I read to them. By the time I started junior high, I was a great reader. From then on, I had no problem with my reading abilities.

I’ve always been an avid reader. When I was in elementary school, my mother would take my brother and I to the library every week to pick out books. I would take the books to school and read them all in one day. I loved reading so much that my teachers would call home and tell my parents that I was reading my library books during class instead of my textbooks. Reading has always been a major part of my life. I used to aspire to become an author. I even wanted to become an editor at one point. I used to make daily household newspapers and magazines for my entire family to read and enjoy. My strong love for reading certainly came in handy during my freshman year of high school.

When my parents first started to read to me, I was not but a year old. They read to me every night, Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown. Goodnight Moon was my favorite bedtime story, and I probably could have recited the whole book word for word back then. It was a book made to lull small kids to sleep with the content of the book. Then, when I grew up a bit, they started reading the Magic Tree House books by Mary Pope Osborne to me. I loved those books because they were interesting and informational. I finally got to the point where I could read the Magic Tree House books by myself, so I read one every night before bed.

I never had a passion to read when I was younger in grade school. I never liked to read, unless it was any of the “Black Lagoon” books then you had my full attention, and if it wasn’t any of those I would not read it for anything. All I wanted was to read those books, and I am pretty sure I read almost all of them I liked them so much. I especially did not like reading when teachers would make us read at night and fill out a reading chart to go along with it and would make our parents sign it so they made sure that we really did read everyday. It was pure torture for me. I dreaded the reading. My teachers even gave us prizes and treats for reading at home and I still did not want to read. One year I did not tell my mom that I had a reading log and was required to

My dad was always interested in plays and poetry, as well as reading about history. My mom was a very good student in highschool and throughout college, so she read many books and appreciated the literature she was introduced to over the years. Naturally, when they had me, their firstborn, literature would soon become a part of my life. I had to ask my mother about how I first learned to read, or how I was first introduced to literature at all, because I don't remember something so long ago. She said "I read to you even when you were in my stomach, so maybe I was just reading to myself, but I know that I read to you every night. After you were born too, and probably even a few years or so after you'd learned to read on your own." So, the idea of literature has always been a part of my life, since I was in my mom's stomach. The older I grew, the more I loved to read. The reading of bedtime stories became a nightly routine. Although we had an extensive selection of children's books at my house, it seemed that we were always getting more. I was enthralled by the movie Beauty and The Beast, so one day my mom surprised me with the book version. I was only 2 or 3 at the time. I would make my mom read that book over and over to me every night. I made her read it to me so much, that I eventually memorized it. I was only 3, so my mom thought that I was some sort of toddler genius, until she

The memory of reading for me started in third grade. My third grade teacher was Mrs. Freedman and she encouraged us to read in class and at home. We (the class) would take trips to the library to check out books to take home each week and we received a prize, if we could read at least five books a week. Now that prize was only a piece of candy, but that is all it took to persuade me to read. I believed I truly enjoyed reading until I move to fourth grade

My mom has always been a huge reader. As a child growing up I remember her reading a lot, which probably influenced me into reading. As I got older and started to learn how to read she would always encourage me into reading and would say something like “All the smartest people in the world like to read”. So at a young age I grew into loving the images that were put in my head through reading.

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 early reading memories consist of reading to my brothers and family members. I remember reading books like, Three Little Pigs, and Cinderella. I also use to love someone reading me scary books when the lights were out. Reading along with mother made me feel important because she was much older than I was. That made me feel smart.

Around the age of nine is when my love for reading really set sail. It was 4th grade and my English teacher sent home a letter to my parents saying that there would be a weekly parent reading. Mrs. Erwin generously