Wait a second!
More handpicked essays just for you.
More handpicked essays just for you.
The process of language acquisition in childhood
The process of language acquisition in childhood
The process of language acquisition in childhood
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Recommended: The process of language acquisition in childhood
When I was three, my parents unwittingly bought me a world. It took the shape of a magnetic letter board, a toy endowed with life. I still remember my late grandmother patiently feeding my inquiring mind's needs, telling me which letter was 'S' and how I should put it on the board. Thus I learned to read in no time. But I was a complicated nature, never willing to write the words I heard, or anything like that. I had just found a realm of mine; anything not obviously pertaining to the world of sounds I converted to my language of magnetic letters and digits. When I saw a soccer match on TV, the players become the letters and the goals become the boards(they were already two at that time). I would adapt everything I was exploring to my soccer game with letters. When I discovered chess, I gave one letter-player the name of a chess piece; another had a name derived from Mercury(I was also learning the planets); another player's name intentionally rhymed with Apollo(I was reading a book for children on Greek mythology). And I learned chess, the planets and the Greek gods with the letter-...
It all started when I was young, before I could even walk. I was fascinated by the little lines and squiggles. Why could everyone else read them, I wondered, and why couldn’t I? It appeared to me like a secret language or a special code. I wanted more than anything to be a part of the “exclusive club”– that the majority of Earth was a member of, but still. I found it so interesting that strange shapes could communicate the same idea to a million people, each one interpereting it in a different way. The power in words was blown up in my wide, naïve eyes, but maybe still not blown up quite to scale. From that point, I made a resolution. I would learn to read. No matter what it would take, I would learn. Somehow, I would do it. When I got older, I put the plan into action.
“One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.” These were the words from one of the greatest authors of all time, Dr. Seuss, that sprouted the enjoyment of reading. I was a young lad when I first started looking at words, and although I could not understand them, I knew they had some significant meaning to them. Reading played a huge role in my life, and it all started when my mom read books to me as a baby, when I first read a book for myself, and, of course, when I was required to read at school.
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.
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.
Since I was young, I've had a fascination with mankind. While some focused on learning the structure behind a complex equation and the biological composition of frogs, I studied the construction of one of the most complex species on this planet, human beings. People enthralled me, from how they dressed, to how they behave, to how they adapt and manage living in this ever changing, chaotically beautiful world of ours. As I got older, I began to dive deeper into the study, focusing on specific areas of study and the assembly of the human brain, down to what area controls what emotions, thoughts, behaviors, and their development as people go through the stages of life. How can we advance, grow, even excel as humans. However, due to my timid, weak nature, I refused to pursue my dreams of growth, let alone speak up for them. I stayed quiet, observed from afar, and refused to open my mouth out of fear of being rejected or even hated. People like to advance, but don’t tend to enjoy the path of education it takes to get there. I had to grow up; before I could even think to accomplish the goals I panned out for myself. As I got older, opportunities slowly began to appear that offered a pathway to maturity, but time and time again, my seemingly innate fear of the “what ifs” consistently blocked me from becoming a man.
When I was younger, about five years of age, I had started using a reading and communication program called Hooked on Phonics, a program you can use at home that teaches a young child to be able to sound letters and words. Eventually at older ages, this program introduces you
In the book Outliers, and in the articles, “Meaningful Work”, “Do, Just, Do: A Journey to Meaningful, Satisfying work”, and “ You Wont Find Meaningful work Looking Outside Yourself”, The authors Malcolm Gladwell, Michael F. Steger, Lori Deschene, and Keven wood describe what the joy of meaningful is to them.Life is what you make of it and it’s and up to you to decide what you will get out of it. Some people may work eight hour shifts Monday through Friday miserable, exhausted, depressed, unhappy, and under a lot of pressure and stress from their jobs. Others may do the same, similar, or different jobs being comfortable, happy with life, and pleased with their job position. Your job should be one of the most important things to you because you are there on average forty hours a week and most of your time is spent there. It should be important that you enjoy what you do because it is practically your second home. Meaningful work is a job you enjoy doing, are compassionate about, never tired of, and do for the fulfillment of yourself , it is important to success because if one enjoys what they do opportunities in their career path will only expand.
... through dreams, role reversal, and nature, toward a complex and distinctly objective reality in which language truly communicates.
History has always been one of my passions. Entering high school, my goal was to get a 5 on one of the AP tests for history. When the opportunity came, I took my first AP class, AP European History, and I studied away.
I keep annoying my dad until one day he finally had enough and told me he would teach me how to read so I could look the answer to my question by myself. The first book I ever pick up was name Nacho libro inicial de lectura, which translate to Nacho initial reading book. My dad told me when he was in school he learn with this book and I will also learn from it.
This begin my love for letters, words and literacy. As we progressed into reading and writing it was like an adventure into a new world. I could now express myself in written words, I could finally write notes and letters to my friends and family. I was so excited to learn how to write so I could do all these amazing things. I would look at my mother’s hand writing because at that age I thought everything she did was perfect and I wanted my writing to be just as good as hers.
Reading is a complex process that’s difficult to explain linearly. A student’s reading capabilities begin development long before entering the school setting and largely start with exposure (Solley, 2014). The first remnants of what children are able to do in terms of reading are built from their parents and other people and object around them as they’re read to, spoken to, and taken from place to place to see new things (Solley, 2014). As kids are exposed to more and more their noises quickly turn into intentional comprehensible messages and their scribbling begins to take the form of legible text as they attempt to mimic the language(s) they’re exposed to daily.
“Class,” I announced, “today I will teach you a simpler method to find the greatest common factor and the least common multiple of a set of numbers.” In fifth grade, my teacher asked if anyone had any other methods to find the greatest common factor of two numbers. I volunteered, and soon the entire class, and teacher, was using my method to solve problems. Teaching my class as a fifth grader inspired me to teach others how important math and science is. These days, I enjoy helping my friends with their math homework, knowing that I am helping them understand the concept and improve their grades.
It is through life that you discover the "me." Every action and reaction develop who you as a person and how the "me" will continue to evolve. Being only nineteen, I am not fully confident I can tell you who exactly I am or who I will become, but I do feel confident that I can tell you what my inherit characteristics are and who I aspire the "me" in me to be. If someone were to describe water with personification they would be characterizing me.
Reading has always been a big part in my life. When my mom was pregnant with me she used to read to my older brother, so in a way she was reading to me too. When I was a toddler, my favorite books were