How I Learned to Read
Araceli Gasca
Period 1 09/27/10
Ms. Adams
AP English language
How I Learned to Read For me learning to read was an extensive and boring experience; I took reading for granted and never suspected of the great knowledge that was hidden in every book, I thought was useless; the revelation came afterwards. It all started at home. I was about to be five years old and my mom was teaching me how to write my name. In my head I understood nothing of what I wrote but as far as I know that was my name, which would follow me the rest of my life. Finally the day came and it was time for me to go to school. I was scared; I did not know where I was, and I did not know a single word in English. There was no way my mom would stick me in an English classroom. They moved me to a Spanish one; there I had a more clear idea of what I was learning. The teacher was a sweet, calm lady; she had patience with my wiggly and off place writing, to this day I have not figured out whether she understood it or not. Once I learned my ABC’s here came the small words of animals and things like for example “oso” which means bear in Spanish. Learning to read and write seamed so boring. I had to sit down and do homework which required my attention, but I preferred to draw and play. Learning was torture; I would read very slowly, even when I tried to read those small picture books for small kids, I was useless by that time. In second grade I had a fair level of Spanish reading, but to kill my life I had to learn English, how devastating, it took me two days to learn the ABC’s in English. I understood nothing of written English. My teacher started giving me small lessons on it; I loathed English so much I wanted to give up. In fourth grade, I started to write essays which took me for ever, and I was so deeply embarrassed, because I would get my papers basically all in red of corrections. As time passed I hated books more and more, every time I would have to read I would get
Period 1 09/27/10
Ms. Adams
AP English language
How I Learned to Read For me learning to read was an extensive and boring experience; I took reading for granted and never suspected of the great knowledge that was hidden in every book, I thought was useless; the revelation came afterwards. It all started at home. I was about to be five years old and my mom was teaching me how to write my name. In my head I understood nothing of what I wrote but as far as I know that was my name, which would follow me the rest of my life. Finally the day came and it was time for me to go to school. I was scared; I did not know where I was, and I did not know a single word in English. There was no way my mom would stick me in an English classroom. They moved me to a Spanish one; there I had a more clear idea of what I was learning. The teacher was a sweet, calm lady; she had patience with my wiggly and off place writing, to this day I have not figured out whether she understood it or not. Once I learned my ABC’s here came the small words of animals and things like for example “oso” which means bear in Spanish. Learning to read and write seamed so boring. I had to sit down and do homework which required my attention, but I preferred to draw and play. Learning was torture; I would read very slowly, even when I tried to read those small picture books for small kids, I was useless by that time. In second grade I had a fair level of Spanish reading, but to kill my life I had to learn English, how devastating, it took me two days to learn the ABC’s in English. I understood nothing of written English. My teacher started giving me small lessons on it; I loathed English so much I wanted to give up. In fourth grade, I started to write essays which took me for ever, and I was so deeply embarrassed, because I would get my papers basically all in red of corrections. As time passed I hated books more and more, every time I would have to read I would get