Personal Narrative: My Mother Reading

Self assured, compassionate and responsible women have played a very important role in who I am today. Both in real life and in literature, I have always been drawn to powerful women; there is something about women overcoming an array of obstacles that appeals to and empowers me. In life, I have been fortunate to have grown up in a family where mothers, grandmothers and aunts alike have power and input in the household. Most of my literary sponsors were women; I can clearly remember my mother reading to me before bed and my grandmother stressing the importance of daily scripture readings. Through both middle school and high school, I have had female teachers push me to read and communicate more effectively. All of these women helped me find my voice in the world. One of the earliest memories that I have of books, is my mother reading to me. My favorite books were the those about Olivia, the talking pig. I loved the pictures and colors used in the books, and there was something soft and connective when my mother read to me. These stories were about kids like me,

My sixth grade English teacher, Mrs. Bailey, shared with me poetry and short stories. She was an important sponsor for me; even though I disliked writing, she helped our class keep journals. This helped prepare me for the amount and type of writing I would encounter in high school. She would recommend books and helped fuel my addiction to reading. I began to realise that there was more to the world then the small town society that I was being brought up in. During this same time, I usually had a book with me at all times. For holidays and birthdays I would only ask for bookstore gift cards and secondhand books. At the time, I can remember my father being worried that I was spending too much time reading, and I that I would not do well socially in high