Everyone has memories that fully explore their childhood learning experience. Throughout my youth I had two primary instructors, my mother and my father. Growing up I’ve been an only child so their focus was always directed toward teaching me.
In my childhood, I had a lot of creativity built up. From watching every adventure, mystery or Walt Disney film, to reading Nancy Drew chapter books and playing spy around the house afterwords, I was always in character. My face would be glued to these books and I would create little narratives in my notebooks, with new characters and the adventures for them to get lost in based on my own fantasies. I was never a huge fan of reading, but would love when my parents or babysitters would read to me. It allowed me to escape and daydream of being inside that story book. My mother would always recite Dr. Seuss books and my all time favorite book The Rainbow Fish, no matter how many times I could recite it back to her from memory. The story was about a fish with an exquisite appearance of scales, whom did not have any friends until he shared his scales with the other not so fortunate fish. This book always stuck in my head as a kid, as to this day, seeing as I can relate to the fish-- being an only child and all. The warmth of the message this story left encouraged me to look for similar pieces and want to continue reading.
Occasionally, I would go to my grandparents house on the weekends. Whenever I would visit them, my grandmother would always bring down a big box of crayons with scrap paper encouraging me to make something new for her refrigerator. She would be in the kitchen cooking while my grandpa sat in his big ole comfy recliner reading his daily news observer. I observed him from across the room while fancying my crayons and small disney puzzles. I can hear his voice to this day as he were to chuckle, “what kind of mess are you going to make today?” They made me love coloring, it was my passion-- still...
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