I consider myself as a young woman on my late 20’s and always making fun of my “old” husband who is in his early 30’s. But trying to remember how I learned to read and write makes me feel older than him, because it is hard to focus on a single event that could have changed my perspective about reading and writing. The first time that I thought about how I learn to read, it came to my mind images of my grandmother and my mother reading me bedtime stories before I fell asleep. My passion about books and interesting magazines came from my grandmother stories and was reinforced by my mother’s encourage to read.
Looking back through the years I have a vivid memory of my bedroom at my grandmother’s house, it was a big bedroom with big and old windows from ceiling to floor, just covered with curtains made of small laces. We did not need to use a fan to cool the room, because it was cool enough in a hot and humid summer night. I used to stay with my grandmother, a petite and dark hair woman, because my mother had to travel when I was at school. Every night while I was ready to go to bed I had to choose a book from an old and rusty bookcase that my grandmother used to have outside the guest’s bedroom. I remember choosing a book just by its number on the spine, when I opened one and each of these books they had a particular smell like a fresh tree in the cool spring and the pages were not white but light yellow due to the pass of years. These books were part of my grandmother’s collection of Aesop fables.
I wasn’t able to read at that time, and my grandmother used to read to herself like 5 minutes the book that I chose and then she started reading it to me. I really enjoyed those stories with great endings and fun topics to learn about.
As time passed by I learn to read at school and as soon as I realized that I was able to read more than one page, I went to my grandmother’s house and look for those Aesop fables that she read me every night that I spent with her. Sadly I found out that those stories that I used to love and enjoy were just boring and hard to read.
Each year as I grow old, I tend to discover and learn new things about myself as a person as well as a reader, writer and a student as a whole. My educational journey so far has been pretty interesting and full of surprises. Back in Bangladesh where I studied until high school, my interest for learning, reading or writing was so very different compared to how it has become over the years. I could relate those learning days to Richard Rodriquez’s essay “The lonely Good Company of Books”. In the essay the author says, “Friends? Reading was, at best, only a chore.”(Rodriguez, page 294). During those days I sure did feel like reading was a chore for me and how I was unable to focus and I could never understand what all those jumbled up words ever meant. It was quite a struggle for me in class when the teachers used to assign us reading homework. I felt like reading a book was more difficult or painful than trying to move a mountain. Just like how moving a mountain is impossible, trying to find an interest in reading was
Having read the Aesop’s Fables, I find that vivid stories often interest readers. The form of story influences the desire of reading while the nuclear meanings of story influence readers whether to read it further or not. Set the Aesop’s Fables as an example, we can see that both the form and the hiding meanings of an article are quite necessary. So first of all, in our writing, we should think the use of word carefully so that our article is clear, brief, and easy to read. What’s more, it’s of significant importance to know what we truly want to express, that is, our nuclear thinking, which is the soul of an article. No matter what the meaning is, we should convey some ideas worth thinking. In most of the Aesop’s Fables, the characters are
As a preteen, my parents thought that reading as a good hobbit needed to be foster from my childhood. Therefore, I had a bedtime for stories since I was three years old. My parents would prepare different stories and read for me everyday. The books at that time always had more cartoons than characters, and my parents would teach me to recognize characters in the books. Then, I went to the elementary school at six years old, and I
My literacy journey began long before I had actually learned how to read or write. While recently going through baby pictures with my mother, we came across a photo of my father and I book shopping on the Logos boat, a boat that would come to my island every year that was filled with books for our purchasing. Upon looking at this picture, my mother was quite nostalgic and explained how they began my journey to literacy through experiences like this. My earliest memory of experiencing literature was as a small child. My parents would read bedtime stories to me each night before I went to bed. I vividly remember us sitting on the bed together with this big book of “365 bedtime stories for 365 days” and we read one story each day until we had
Ron Padgett, the author of Creative Reading, recalls how he learned to read and write as though these things happened yesterday. Like Padgett, I tried recalling my reading and writing history.
As a child, I have always been fond of reading books. My mother would read to me every single night before I went to bed and sometimes throughout the day. It was the most exciting time of the day when she would open the cabinet, with what seemed to be hundreds of feet tall, of endless books to choose from. When she read to me, I wanted nothing more than to read just like her. Together, we worked on reading every chance we had. Eventually I got better at reading alone and could not put a book down. Instead of playing outside with my brothers during the Summer, I would stay inside in complete silence and just read. I remember going to the library with my mom on Saturdays, and staying the entire day. I looked forward to it each and every week.
There were many people throughout my childhood that help me to read, and write. However, my teachers, mom, and dad were all responsible for teaching me “how” to read and write. For example, in pre-kindergarten, I learned my alphabet, colors, shapes, numbers, and to follow instructions. Once I learned the above items, I returned home with homework. My mom and dad would help me with my homework, and structure activities around my learning. My mom and dad would encourage me to read because they believed it was very important. In addition, my mom would often read to me before I go to bed reinforce my learning. The readings before I go to be very instrumental in my learning.
Once I took the book home, I began to really like it, and wanted to learn how to read it. My reading wasn't the best during these times. I would get my mom, dad, aunt, grandma, or just anyone who would agree to help me read it, or read it to me.
Reading and writing has never been my strong suit, but it has been something I’ve learned how to cope with. My grandma would try to read me books and I would try to stay focused on the words but it was always a struggle. If it was a book with pictures I could always follow just a little better but it was still hard for me to comprehend the message. Some of the books she would read to me when I was around 2 years old were Fraggle Rock by Jim Henson and Winnie the Pooh by A. A. Milne. I seemed to like Winnie the Pooh better than Fraggle Rock. Fraggle Rock is a book series that has been passed down from my mother and a thing I plan to read to my children and the next generation. When it had come time for me to start trying to read the books I never could, I could look at pictures and make stuff up from the pictures but that was it.
My literacy journey commenced at a young age. My story begins with the typical bed time stories and slowly progresses into complex novels. Some points in my literacy journey have made me admire the written word but other times literacy frustrated me. These ups and downs within my story have made me the person I am today. My parents noticed that my reading was not up to par with other children in kindergarten and I was diagnosed with mild dyslexia at the age of five. My parents provided me a reading mentor named Mrs. Mandeville who has shaped my literacy journey in many ways. Events in my childhood have shaped my literacy in various ways.
My literacy skills began to develop much like Deborah Brandt suggests in her article of “Sponsors of literacy” My first memories of learning to write are still quite vivid. I remember holding a big fat crayon in my hand as my mother showed me how to write my name. She would draw a large line on the page and I would copy her movements. We started with capital letters and moved on to lower case letters. My memories of learning to read are similar. I remember my mother reading me picture books with large print that somehow turned in to reading sentences. Most of my early memories of learning to read and write include sitting with my mother, older sister and brothers. I had never really thought about the influence your family has on your reading
Almost everyone has heard about Aesop’s fables, but most people know very little about Aesop himself. Most of what we know about Aesop is a mixture of hearsay and conjecture. We do know that he was a slave in Greece. One theory is that before ^ had he came to Greece he lived in Ethiopia for most of his life and that “Aesop” is a muchshortened form of “the Ethiopian.” Aesop was not a storyteller then, though he would have loved to have spoken well enough to tell a good story. He stuttered so badly that he did not even try to talk. In one story we learn, however, that he could communicate. A neighbor brought a gift of figs to Aesop’s master. Greatly pleased, the master planned to enjoy the figs after his bath and directed that they were put in a cool place until he was ready.
I already know a good amount about the Aesop’s fables before doing any real research. Almost everyone as a child was introduced to the stories such as “the boy who cried wolf” or “the tortoise and the hare”. As a child many adults would read these stories to me because they have a very strong moral. It can guide children to do the right thing when they are in doubts. I have a very personal experience with the tortoise and the hare because since I am a tennis player, my coaches would always mention these stories in regarding to practice and how we should be playing. This actually taught me a lot and made me the player I am today. I know that all fables are made up so that they can teach a life lesson/moral to kids to help guide them through life and that is the exactly what happened to me by reading fables as a child.
Throughout life there are experiences and moments that change the path of individuals. When reflecting on these it is easy to focus only on the biggest moments in your life such as your first job, going to college, or meeting your significant other. However, equally important are the smaller moments along the way that set you up for success later in your personal and academic life. One of the most influential literary moments for me is actually the first one I can remember. I used to visit my grandparents on a regular basis when I was young, I don’t recall the first time I went to stay over, but I do remember the first time my grandmother read to me. I could not have been much older than four years old at the time, and before I went to bed
Now that I’m older, people meeting me after a long time come up to me and exclaim that we remember you, you were the little girl who always had a book in your hand. As I grew older, my love for reading also grew; my interests extending to every kind of book, except for schoolbooks.