Memories

If you look through some of my previous posts, you will see that I do not remember much from my childhood. I remember the teachers but not anything specific from their classroom. As I was growing up I don’t think I had a problem learning to read and the only reason I say that is because I have no specific memories about needing extra assistance. I was good at blending in... I was never a behavior problem, I did all my work, and I was so shy that you would never hear me talk. Honestly, if I needed help no one would have known. Thinking back, I don't even know if my school had a library. I'm sure we did but I can't recall where it was located or if we went to it.

My first memory of a read aloud was with my fifth-grade teacher. During October we would combine with another classroom then open the blinds, turn out all the lights and she would read us a book that had "scary stories" in it. I loved it. We were so engaged that when a person would open the classroom door we (including the teacher) would scream. These few minutes each day was a great break from schoolwork and a great escape from the real world. 

Moving into middle school, I remember summer reading lists. I never read more than I had to, and it would sometimes take me the entire summer to become motivated to read but when I did I loved it. I don’t think I have read a book that I haven’t liked. During the school year, I became a pro at using cliff notes to get away with not reading. Reading wasn’t a priority for me or my family. My parents never read unless they needed to, and I could get away with not doing it, so I never did. I have read more children’s books and novels during my time as graduate student than I ever did growing up.

I have struggled with many graduate assignments due to not remembering my past. I really do not have any memories until middle school. This has been hard to pick out important teachers, lessons, and books but it has made me think about my role in the classroom. There is most likely a child that is going through the same things I did if not worse and I can be the one to help create those lasting memories for these students. 

I remember reading a few books when I got into Eighth Grade. Enders Game by Orson Scott Card, The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank, and Night by Elie Wiesel. I have written about this teacher before, but this was an interesting year for me. I had just moved not only to a new school but new school district, so everything was very different and lonely. It is hard to make friends when you don't speak and that makes group projects horrible. I loved reading Enders Game during the summer but was then disappointed when nothing came from that when school started. The Diary of a Young Girl is always a classic and I did enjoy a group project where I oversaw making the script for my group. I never ended up reading Night. This was assigned as "silent reading" in class and I always had a hard time concentrating with all the commotion that was constantly happening in the room. This was also during the time that my teacher put a note on an essay I worked hard on that said, " you had no heart when writing this".  Once I read that comment I did the minimum to get by and was not motivated to do anything extra for this teacher.