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The classroom is filled with soft whispers and chatter from the students. The soft noises are drowned out by the teachers booming voice reading a book out loud to the class. It feels as though the teacher finds a reason to stop every two seconds to explain what is going on. I roll my eyes and tune out her voice while continuing to read ahead. ‘We are juniors in high school, we know how to read. And if we don’t, we never will’ I think to myself. As a young child, I faced some difficulties with reading and writing. It was not the easiest subject for me, but as I got into the later years of elementary school, I began to discover a deep love for reading. I was discovering new books and series all while increasing my reading skills. These books …show more content…
I would read all the time; during lunch, any break during class, and all night. I was reading so much my mom would often take my books away so I would do homework and reward me with a new book when I did well on assignments. This began to spark my interest in writing. I would carry around a notebook and fill it with short stories or poems or any little thought that came to my head. All my notebooks were very secretive as they were filled with my hopes and dreams. It was almost like I was slowing taking apart my brain and filling the note book pages with the …show more content…
I lived in the richest county in America and it showed through the people living there. The schools were extremely competitive. Everyone had to be on top and all students were expected to have their whole life planned out by the time they started 9th grade. The English department was not any better. There were only two options when it came to classes; a higher-level class or a lower level class. Most of the teachers showed very little respect for any of their students. It was hard to trust the teachers we had because they all seemed to think so little of us. My teachers seemed to have the highest and lowest expectations of me causing me to be unsure with my academic standing. I was too afraid to ask for any help for fear of disappointing others and embarrassing myself was standing in my
We were not allowed to discuss lessons, and on math assignments, if we did the problem in a way that was different from the way we were taught, it was automatically marked wrong. We were taught in a similar fashion, frequently being told to shut up or whatever we had to say wasn 't important if the teacher didn 't want us talking. One shining example of the lack of respect our staff had for the students was an assembly that occurred in fourth grade. A student would not stop talking and the principal yelled at him to be quiet. The student stood up and threw a temper tantrum. The principal then grabbed him, put him in a headlock, and said, "Son, I swear to God, if you make my back go out, I 'll make you regret it!" These experiences lead me to believe teachers saw us as little more than an obstacle - something they had to overcome each day - instead of what we really were: young children, whose minds they needed to protect and mold into the future of this
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
When writing a five paragraph essay, there are five steps one must fallow in order to attain perfection, these steps include understanding the question, brainstorming, writing a rough copy, revising, and creating a final draft. The first and most important step is understanding the topic. The topic of the essay is what the essay will be about and if this is misunderstood, the whole essay will be off course. The second step, brainstorming, will help organize thoughts and ideas so they flow amiably. There are many different ways to brainstorm, some of the most helpful are making a web of ideas, making a list of ideas, or creating a Venn diagram to compare and contrast the conviction. All these ideas will be related to the topic at hand. For example, if the essays topic is about how the earth is affected by global warming, then the brainstorming ideas might include the ozone lair being reduced or how global climate has raised. The third step when writing a five paragraph essay is creating the rough draft. The first draft must have all the features the final will, but does not have to be...
In Katherine Mansfield’s “The Doll’s House” the physical existence of the doll house is a representation of conflict within the two different worlds of adults and children. There are three main physical attributes belonging to the doll house used to exemplify the existing conflict within the two worlds. First the description of the doll house has opposites tones when described by the voice of an adult narrator, in contrast to the child narrator, portraying the existing conflict in both worlds. Furthermore the lamp inside the doll house is a symbol comparing the genuine and artificial societies in which cause the two worlds to conflict (Beveridge 5). Lastly a key aspect of the doll house that is used to represent the conflict between the two worlds is the ability it has to swing open. The openness of the doll house connects the views of children, the closed position illustrating the world of adults. Through these three features of the doll house, we are able to analyze the conflicting differences within the world of a child versus an adult.
I am sitting in my bed, thinking about my process of writing as I am trying to go through it. It seems the more I think about it, the less I understand it. When I am writing, I don’t think. Which I know, sounds bad. But, I spend every single moment of every single day over thinking, over analyzing, and over assuming every aspect of my life. When I’m writing, I’m free from that for just a little bit. Until of course, my hands stop typing or the pencil (no pens- never pens) stops moving, then I’m right back on the carousel that is my brain. Heidi Estrem says, “...writers use writing to generate knowledge that they didn’t have before.” (Writing is a Knowledge-Making Activity 18). I believe my ability to write without an exact destination
Reading,” she makes the argument that reading helps train the mind to become a better writer, develop “the power of imagination”(Winn, 255), and advance concentration skills. One of the major points presented by Marie Winn is that by reading children gain the “rudiments of writing”(Winn, 253). While reading, a child will recognize that a word is said in a certain way that will eventually translate into a child learning how to write words. For children gain writing skills by reading, Winn shows that by reading a child not only gains a beneficial experience but also a chance to improve their writing skills. In addition to improving their writing skills, a child can also develop an imagination through reading books.
Books are a veritable treasure. They can truly be one’s best friends for life and one need never be lonely in the company of books. Reading is such a fascinating habit that the deeper you delve into it, the more you are drawn to it. Not only do books provide entertainment and knowledge, but they also sharpen the intellect, stimulate imagination and enhance vocabulary. Once a reader, always a reader and voracious readers always stand apart and distinguish themselves from the others in all walks of life.
This quarter has been amazing for me as a writer. Not only did I heavily enjoy the class, but I feel like I have grown both as a writer and as a person. I have had many difficulties writing in all of my scholastic life and I would like to thank you for being the teacher to help me get through them. On the first day of class we did a small self-reflection where we wrote a little bit about what we saw in ourselves. My greatest strength was talking to people, but I never had the confidence in myself until I met my girlfriend.
At that time, I practiced that I must love writing just as much as I loved reading due to “the more you read, the more you write.” my teacher purchased picture books for me and checked them out of the library as well. Focusing on every word, I carefully read and write down on a book which was my practice
As a child, I had a love hate relationship with reading. I loved reading the books I picked out and I hated reading the books my mom picked out for me. My child self believed that my mom only wanted me to read the books that taught me a lesson. I only wanted to read the fun books where the cover had caught my eye at the local library. As an adult I now understand what my mom was trying to teach me about reading, however, as a child, I wanted to rebel and read what I wanted to. Now, fifteen years later, I now understand my mom wanted to show me there are more books in the world than the ones where the cover catches your eye. She taught me that sometimes you have to read outside your comfort zone to find true treasures in literature. I transitioned from Carolyn Keene’s Nancy Drew to Tamora Pierce’s Tortall and Circle of Magic series in childhood, to J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and Tim LaHaye’s Left Behind as a teenager and adult. My mom’s lessons on reading helped me grow as a reader and begin a love affair with the written word, no matter the genre.
I have always felt out of place in the writing world. Whether it be for school projects or trying to think of stories at home, I never had felt that feeling of whatever I just wrote was a paper worth reading. When I was younger, it seemed like everyone was just a natural writer, their ideas flowing from their minds to their fingers without a second thought. Effortlessly writing entire essays while I was in the corner still trying to think of a thesis statement. However I think one the times I have never felt more disconnected to what I was writing was during English Festival.
It was humiliating as a second grader and especially a third grader. I recognized that other students in my class were starting to notice I wasn’t like them, they were pulling ahead of me academically. I vividly remember sitting in my remedial reading group listing to my peers read. All I could think about was how painfully slow they were reading. It was so slow, that what they were reading was hard to process and comprehend.
Over the years reading and writing have been a great part of my life. They have both formed and shape who I’ve become. I grew up in a family that is fluent in reading since I was in the first grade my parents always bought me books to read,but when it always came to writing this was a whole different story. My parents always told me that writing was a helpful tool to set your mind straight, and keep you from any trouble. This has preserved me from making wrong decisions and set me up for greatness.
My passion for reading began in kindergarten when my teachers came to the consensus that I was behind and needed extra help in reading and writing. My grandmother enlisted me in a tutoring program, and I joined in a special class at school with other kids who were having similar troubles. An activity that began as mandatory, developed into a past time I would forever cherish. My interest of reading would soon develop into a need for writing. To the outside world, I was quiet. While I was shy and an introvert as a child, what I didn’t say with words I wrote on paper. With a book or a pencil, I could transport myself to any place or time I could ever possibly think of. I was not always happy at home, like all families, mine had some issues. However, through literature, I
From a young age, my parents surrounded me with reading and writing. As an infant, my nursery was filled with books and the sound of my mother reading to me. Although I could not read by myself, I would become consumed with these stories and constantly beg my mother to continue the book. Day after day I would look forward to the story waiting for me at bedtime and trips to the bookstore to find a new story. This early exposure to literature helped immensely as I began to mature and understand more of the world. As philanthropist Mary McCleod Bethune said, “The whole world opened up to me when I learned to read.” This quote embodies the next few years of my life perfectly, as my world immediately seemed infinitely larger. I was constantly finding ways to discover all that this new world had to offer, whether it be reading road signs and billboards from my car seat or being completely absorbed in a