Reading Is Power “The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read, “wrote Mark Twain. No matter what part of the world, the different cultures and languages, there has and always will be the written form that must be read to understand our human counterparts and history. Reading can be traced back as far as 3100 BC with content written on limestone and still very much used today with technology as simple as a text message. The most commonly used language both spoken and written literacy around the world is English. Growing up in Jamaica, my first experience with literary content was a mixture of English and Patwa, which is a Creole-based language with a predominate English root. I have been fortunate enough to receive the education necessary to be able to communicate and advance in today’s world through reading and writing. My encounters with words and memories have vastly shaped my academic life. As a child, the first experience I can remember of reading and writing would be my mother teaching me to write my nickname “Tanisha.” The step above that would be learning my home address in Jamaica, and this was important so that I would always be able to know how to get home if I was lost. At times I would often read to myself fairy tales and children’s stories, and I remember vividly one book in particular named Sweet, Sweet Mango Tree by Diane Browne. Going to school, I learned to
I have acquired many literacy opportunities throughout my literacy life my parents, grandparents, and teachers ,I hold them very close to my heart because if it wasn’t for them pushing and encouraging me to read and write I wouldn’t be the literate person I am today. I bear a huge family so there are always many voices going through my head so it wasn’t long until I started speaking, as well as comprehending what all these strange words meant recognizing the words was very difficult before I started practicing them. My parents always encouraged me to read and write in a way no child can resist with toys and candy who could say no to that. Every chance they got to help me read they would read with me. I wasn’t forced to read on my own because I didn’t know how.
As a girl growing up around a group of bikers, boys and two parents who listened to eighties hair bands and metal, you wouldn’t think that I read or was read to frequently before starting school. I pursued in reading quite often, actually. When I finally started school, I had the tendency of keeping to myself and staying quiet. There never have been very many friends in the picture of my life. I learned at a young age that there often are going to be cliques, even when you’re an eight year old in girl scouts. I stood out in more ways than one, but for now I’m only going to elucidate why reading is so salient to me.
Literacy plays a huge role in many people’s lives everyday, whether it is learning how to read and write for the first time or writing a five-page essay for the hundredth time. We experience literacy differently and have our very own unique stories on how it has impacted our lives and had made us who we are today. It is an essential aspect that I use in my everyday life, such as in relationships, daily interactions with others, and learning. It has become such a powerful aspect and human right in which it allows one to speak his/her mind and in some cases express their opinion to the world. My personal literacy history has shaped me into who I am today because without my experiences I would not have been able to gain the confidence and
Before one ever starts attending school, their very first lesson is to become literate in the language they speak. From reading sentences to reading paragraphs to reading novels, we try to achieve literacy. However, some of the greatest public speakers and writers did not achieve it through the way most people did. This is shown in the literary works of Frederick Douglass, Malcolm X, and Sherman Alexie. Like these people, literacy isn’t achieved by simply going to school. It’s achieved through great perseverance and through great tenacity.
Last week we wrote a blog and one of the questions was “How did you learn to read and write?” I found this question interesting because I never had really thought about the moment when I actually learned how to read and write. My mom was the first person to expose me to reading and writing. A popular tactic she did to make sure I was staying engaged was to read aloud stories and make me follow along with her. My mom would read me many different stories like Tarzan, Bambi, Aladdin, Peter Pan, Lion King, The Jungle Book, and Hercules. whatever I wanted to listen and follow along with, she would read with me. This really helped with my want to read. The books contained a lot of adventure, which made it easy as a kid to follow along with. I became to gain an imagination and then all of a sudden reading was easier.
My literacy narrative first unfolded in the playroom of my childhood home when I was an inquisitive two-year-old. My parents would sit down with me on the carpet and patiently teach me sight words. Every time I would
As a child I was a very eager learner, I always wanted to learn new things to feed my brain. My desire to learn how to read started when I was introduced to the book, “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” Since I didn't have the ability to read at that age, I would ask my mom to
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
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
My literacy journey had begun earlier than most kids, according to my mother. I started reading in kindergarten, with help with the BOB books and the PBS show Between the Lions. I don’t know when I had started writing exactly, but I remember clearly writing short stories about my cat Stormy in 3rd grade. At that time we had to write weekly short stories, and I only ever wrote about my cat. In 4th grade, I had started exploring writing more; I would write plays for me and my friends to practice during recess. Most of them, I’m happy to say, were actually educational, so my teacher had even let my friends and I perform one about early-American settlers in front of our whole class.
From and early age, I can remember my grandparents reading books to me and my brother; books such as Dr. Seuss and Peter Pan were some of my favorites, growing up in my family proper English was always important.
When I was eight or nine years old, I decided I wanted to be a writer. By this age, I had already gone through the phases of wanting to be an artist, a cook, an astronaut and was extremely satisfied with my new choice of profession. After all, I loved to read so why not write? Reading was my true love: during second grade, I conquered all of Harry Potter over the course of two months. My mom’s rule was that I had to read the book before watching the movie, so I read and read. I would compete in, and win, all the school reading competitions as well as the summer library competitions. Writing, I decided, was the next natural step.
Literacy has a long and detailed history. “The earliest examples of pictorial written communication date back to 3500 B.C. (Piechota). In the centuries after the invention of written communication, only a small part of human society
My first memory of reading or writing was being taught the alphabet at the daycare I attended in my childhood. I was in the “butterfly room” which was for children going into kindergarten the following year. I have a similar memory of my mother teaching me to write my name when I was around that same age. At some point in the years following I learned to read on my own and became more proficient in writing.
From an early age I loved to read. At just two years old I would beg my mother to enroll me into school. I watched as my older sister meticulously picked out her outfit each night in preparation for the next school day. At such a young age I somehow knew that this thing called “school” was the answer to something spectacular. My home was chaotic and reading became an escape and helped distract me from the unpleasant family dynamic.