Growing up, a phase that people don’t want to admit they are doing. As I was growing up I had many issues. Trying to figure out how society works, trying to figure out where I fit in, and learning the how to read, write and speak. It was not easy. One of my many flaws was my speaking. No one knew what I was even speaking at times because I would speak a million of nonsense words at once. Sometimes I would not even know what I was saying. I lived in a household that was very bilingual. Spanish and English were the languages I was exposed to as a child. I am not quiet fluent in Spanish but, my first language was English. It wasn’t easy for me to learn the how to write and read having a slight form of dyslexia, writing was almost impossible to …show more content…
When I was reading them, I had never quite understood anything that I was reading. I thought books were just stupid because they were filled with absolute nonsense. They were just words placed in a giant “mumble jumble.” I went from being the top in my class to being super confused on what I was even doing. I had no idea what those words were saying. I mean I could do math without any trouble. Just when it came to reading words, it was impossible for me to do. The letters looked really funny to me which, made me think that reading was lame and that I have become stupid. I did not understand anything that I was reading. I use to just guess by looking at the pictures that were given. When Mrs. Duffy would ask what I thought of the book, I would just tell her I loved it. No one asked questions why I loved the book, so that became my excuse. Until one day we had to read part of the book during class. I remember asking my mom what was wrong with me. All she would tell me was that I had to analyze each sentence and each word carefully. So I would continue to try and try to read. It had become the most frustrating thing of my young life. It had come to the point where I would cry and be in complete tears. When it got to that point, my mother realized that I had a problem and I was struggling. So she decided it was time for me to learn the right way because my teacher was not being …show more content…
When she tried to explain to me how to write my letters, I kept messing up. So she moved on to having me practice writing my ABC’s over on the letter tracers. I would do that over and over again until I could write it perfectly. I remember that right when I would come home after school, I would practice writing everything that I learned that day, until my wrist would hurt so much that I could not possibly write anymore. She would have me read to her until I was actually forming the words correctly. Everything was starting to make sense to me after a while. I continued to read because I remember the feeling I got when I would understand something. It was so exciting. I had never knew that books where so interesting. Everything had become so much clearer to me. I was no longer seeing the letters in mirror image view
Over this past semester I have grown greatly as a writer. At the beginning of the semester I was not very confident in my writing because I did not think I had the skills to create strong pieces of writing. Not only have I grown as a writer, but I now enjoy writing more. I believe I have grown as a writer in many ways. Some of these include; I am now able to extend my wording to fit a page requirement, I am able to format my writing in MLA format, I have learned new writing strategies, and I am able to write in many styles of writing.
Like reading, in the beginning, I saw writing as a chore, something you only must do when you needed to do homework or at school. It was something your teacher made you do in the beginnings of class to “open your mind.” I hated the idea of writing about how my Christmas was or what I did over the weekend. It was all too tedious and boring, because it was never about what I wanted to write about, fiction.
Instead of mom reading children’s books to me, I read them to her. And if I stumbled upon something I didn’t know or understand, mom helped me out! Soon enough I started reading to her without stuttering of not knowing how to say a word. I started being able to sound out words easier and my fluency became much better than before. First grade came around and I started reading bigger books such as Junie B. Jones and also the Magic Treehouse books. Books became easier to read as I aged and the books I read were getting bigger and bigger. In 5th and 6th grade I read The Red Pyramid, The Throne of Fire, and The Serpents Shadow, a trilogy called The Kane Chronicles written by Rick Riordan. I thought these three books were the greatest three books ever written! I even thought they were better than the hunger games! Especially with the series being based around Egyptian gods and theology, and also managed to tie in kids around my age that I could relate to. Those books made me love reading more than I ever have and I would read them again if I had the time to. Once 8th grade came out along I decided to read a “big boy” book: DaVinci Code by Dan Brown. I thought I was so cool because I was reading a book that my parents have read. It has been the best book I have yet to read so far because it sparked my interest from the first sentence, to the last, there was intense suspense throughout the whole book and I could nonstop
My relationship with writing has been much like roller coaster.Some experiences I had no control over. Other experiences were more influential. Ultimately it wasn’t until I started reading not because I had to read but because I wanted to, that's when my relationship reached change. I would have probably never cared about writing as I do today if it weren't for the critics in my family. When I was a child, my aunts and uncles always been in competition with who's child is better in school. I have always hated reading and writing because of the pressure to prove my family wrong was overwhelming for me. I had to prove them wrong and show them that I was capable of being "smart" which according to them was getting straight A's in all your classes.
The first thing a child learns how to do in school is to read and write. I, unlike most of my classmates, didn’t actually know how to read fluently until the first grade. I remember my Kindergarten class had to read The Polar Express on our own and I was only able to guess what the book was saying. My friend’s dad had to read to me while she read on her own. Reading wasn’t practiced much at home. In fact, my mother doesn’t even remember reading to me, “I don’t remember, but I know I read to you at some point.” The only book I ever found and looked through in my house was my father’s algebra book. That algebra book became my favorite book since I didn’t really have anything else to read. However, after getting the hang
Do you take your language skills, typically learned in mandatory English classes, for granted? Jimmy Santiago Baca, Gareth Cook, and I certainly do not. Baca writes “Coming into Language,” to share his story of learning to read and write while being incarcerated in prison for drug possession. Whereas Cook, in spite of past experiences of shame and ridicule in school, tells his tale of being dyslexic by writing “Living with Dyslexia.” While I’m not an author I did grow up feeling isolated from people in my own age group and, due to a restless mind, developed insomnia in my early teenage years. Despite these differences, all of us went through hardships of forcing our minds to learn new material, growing up without
No one could ever comprehend the hatred I had for reading- no one. Reading to me was just like being deathly ill, stuck inside, watching the neighbors play and know you couldn't join. On Monday morning I sat down in my teacher Mrs. Daniels class. I had a strange feeling reading would be an assignment coming up soon. I was dreading what I knew she was going to say next. “Class you will have 4 weeks to complete this book.” As I heard these words come out of her mouth I lowered myself into my seat like a turtle slowly going into its shell. I felt as if I was drowning and no one could save me until my life was over. Not only did I hate reading but I hated it even more when I was forced to. I thought in my head, “Why. Why make us read a dumb book that will do nothing but take away my social life.” Never did I know the book I was about to read would have such an impact
During adolescence, I began reading and writing through a fundamental learning program called, "Hooked on Phonics." This program consisted of long hours spent reading short novels and writing elementary phrases which were commonly taught in the second and third grade. With the motto, "Improve your child's reading and writing skills in just four weeks!" I was bound to become the next Mark Twain. The method of this course specialized in the improvements of word acquisition rates as well as reading speed; however, it lacked in the area of teaching comprehension. At a young age, I was instilled with the dire need to be highly educated and although I was unable to experience a fun and adventurous childhood like many other children, I am grateful for being raised with a greater knowledge and wisdom than that ingrained in many.
I could say that these past experience through my school career are very significant until this day, accuse that's still my fear. Even highly emotional memories are susceptible to distortion, and one factor must be that remembering is always re-remembering. I have to admit that I'm not greatly of a reader, I read books for life changing stories or biasness financial books that can help me progress as a superior person, more stronger and it will give me guidelines how to win in life. On the other hand its way easier for me to read business books because it just flows, like its easy text for me to understand than those big words on novels. I don't have a specific example of a book but a difference between the readings I have done. My mother read to me even before I could walk or talk. One of my earliest recollections is the sound of my mother's voice, reading to me. This woman read bright, colorful picture books to me, and even though I didn't know what those curlicues on the page were, I knew the pictures were glorious, and the sound of my mother's voice made the stories magical. That is why I was an excellent student in school. I made good grades and I really liked going to school. I had great teachers who cared about me and helped me to pick up as much as I could absorb. Even in the first few months of life, children begin to experiment with language. But the ability to read and write does not develop naturally, without careful planning and instruction. To put it basically, word families are words that rhyme. That is the way I started learning how to read. Learning word families is a phonemic awareness activity that helped me see patterns in reading. This is an important skill because it allowed me to begin reading by grouping sets of letters within a word. And for the question of what sorts
I was very dull in the English language, and it was very difficult to learn. Simple things, such as “May I go to the restroom” was a challenge to say. In the third grade, I moved from Toronto to Siloam Springs. Here I would progress to learn more and more. I would finally understand that there were parts of speech as well as grammar to go with it than just words. Going on into elementary school, I was getting better and better. Not only I loved to read, but I absolutely loved to write. During the mandatory state tests, I would continue writing from the start of the 50 minute period to the end. I was a very creative writer. I could pull out anything and make it sound like a wild Disney Pixar movie. Progressing through elementary school, I signed up to enroll into an advanced literature course in the 8th grade. I learned more about the structures of writing and I ended the course with an
I had always been a shy kid. I was always fearful of judgement and now my voice gave it away. I began to rely heavily on my parents for means of communication when the situation involved me having to speak in Spanish. I could not bear to see the look of confusion on people 's faces when I spoke Spanish, so I turned to my parents who were both fluent in Spanish. I was frustrated and fed up. It was one thing to occasionally speak Spanish but without it you couldn’t survive in Miami. I couldn’t wrap my head around such logic. I was struggling to make it by with so little Spanish while others were graduating high school with no English. This angered me so much I began to resent Spanish speakers.
When I first got out of school, I had time to read. But as I got older the more I worked and the harder it got for me to get into a good book. When I did find a book I could get into I had a hard time with the bigger words, from reading to understanding them. Over time I got a little better at understanding and using the words around them to figure out what they meant. I still have those obstacles, but I am working through them to better my reading.
Oral language is the creation of messages produced with vocals, as opposed to written text or gestures. Today much of our communication is handled orally, especially for students in early years of school that are unable to read and write but must communicate with their teachers. In later years, oral language is heavily focused on in school and students are encouraged to share their opinions mid class and give presentations. This is to prepare students for situations in society and at the workplace where they must be able to communicate clearly and efficiently. Generally, students are expected to possess some level of oral language capability entering kindergarten, which teachers are then expected to build upon (Solley, 2014). Students initially build their oral language capabilities from the millions of words that they hear from their parents and home environment. With different home environments, this leads to varied levels of capabilities between students (Snow et al., 2012, p. 496). To get every stu...
My teacher, Ms. Peshca, came to a conclusion to that she didn’t know what to do or how to explain to me what’s the importance of reading. Ms. Peshca would send me to another reading teacher, and she would try to explain things better than her. Ms. Bell would sit me down and go through different books with me. I wasn’t interested in books that were my age appropriate. I started reading books that were not friendly with age group.
Reading and books became a real struggle for me from elementary all the way to high school because I found it hard to comprehend the books that I was made to read. These books were not interesting to me and I found myself starring at pages for hours at a time and would not know or understand what I read.