Learning to Appreciate Reading and Writing Essay Example For Students

Learning to Appreciate Reading and Writing Essay I don’t think of myself as much as a reader or writer. Reading was hard for me early on in life, but I grew out of it and learned to deal with it. I didn’t grow out of writing, not the actual getting ideas out, but me actually writing. I have broken my hand and arms 5 times, that is what made it a struggle for me. So you could say I don’t have a problem with reading so much now, but writing is still the same. No matter how I feel about either doesn’t change me having to actually do them. Early on in life I was discouraged about reading. In the first grade I was held back for my reading. I didn’t read as well as everyone else did. I was the only one in class who had to take the same grade twice, and that was a big deal for me. Back then I thought I was stupid for it and that everyone would look at me different. I didn’t want to be the dumb one or the idiot of the class. As that year went on and I started to get the gist of things, I knew that it was a good thing for me. By the end of the year, I was reading better and I felt a lot better. I started to take home books and read them on my own. The only place I read before was school, I wasn’t challenged at home by my mom to read or do any kind of school work. It was up to me to learn and take matters into my own hands. If I wanted to learn or do anything for school I had to do it myself at home or at school. I don’t recall a time when I was made to sit down and do my homework like normal kids. Since I didn’t have help or made to do anything at home, I didn’t work on my writing much. So from the start my writing was bad, I never had practice with it. If you don’t practice at anything you’re not going to be good at it. I could never read my own writing. It was always sloppy, and I write really fast. I could come up with good ideas to write but by the time I wrote it down, I couldn’t read what I’ve said or I would forget. I would have to write something multiple times just so you can read it. My teachers would ask me what I wrote, and I couldn’t even tell them. By the end of my fifth grade year I had a really good reading level. I think it was on six grade level. That was a big accomplish for me, from getting held back for my reading to being above my reading grade. I knew getting held back helped, even though I was a grade behind. That was the worst part about it, being back in the same grade. Once I got to middle school I was always the oldest in my grade. When people ask why, I was kind of embarrassed to say. I would lie and make up an excuse. It was something I never really told why until about high school. By the time I got to high school it wasn’t that big of a deal and I wasn’t the only one that got held back. The best teachers I have ever had was in middle school and they were my reading teachers. All three years they were the teachers I always wanted to see. My eighth grade teacher was the biggest one to impact me. She actually got me to like reading the most. I guess it was just how she taught, and she always made us read books that I liked personally, like Twisted by Laurie Anderson and The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie, the two first books I actually enjoyed reading. I would say they helped me to started enjoying reading. By the end of eighth grade I was finally on the level of reading I liked and was in a reading class foe advanced readers. .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f , .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f .postImageUrl , .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f , .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f:hover , .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f:visited , .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f:active { border:0!important; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f:active , .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u3ab75e02d4d98ec78abfd499a2ce4e1f:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Sonnet 18 EssayIn middle school my handwriting was at an all-time low. I broke my arm for the first time in six grade and it was my left hand, the hand I write with. Every year I was in a cast for something. So on top of my writing already being bad I had a cast on. For the whole seventh grade, I got a computer to type everything on because of my arm being broke. Eight grade I didn’t get to use the computer which sucked but my writing still sucked but it become known. You actually didn’t have a reading class in high school, so I honestly didn’t read a book on my own, unless I had too. So I think that’s when I stopped reading a lot and letting it be. I didn’t mind to read in class when I had to, but as far as me going to the library and getting a book that never happened. That’s how I am now, I don’t mind to read, but I don’t push myself too. I am content on where I’m at with it, but now that I’m in college I need to start reading. High school came around and my writing actually got better. I didn’t break anything since middle so that wasn’t a problem. I had a teacher to actually help me on it and slowed me down. My writing then is how about where it is now. It’s not the best but it’s eligible. Now I could actually get what I was thinking on paper. Now that I am college I’m going to start to like both. It sucks but no matter what I’m going to have to do it, so why not begin to like it. I like to learn and want to learn as much as I can, so actually picking up and a book is going to be what I have to do. I still don’t think of myself as a reader or writer, but I will by the end of college. Now that I’ve been through the struggle of it all, now is the time to do the best I can do, and you won’t get anywhere without both.