-
Jack Sprat
At the delicate age of three, I proudly told my dad I could read the book "Jack Sprat." I believed I could read the book; however, I had memorized the entire poem. My parents had read the book to me so often that I had learned not only the entire poem, but when and what words belonged to each page. -
Play
The first word I remember learning is "play." It is important to note that my memory is likely not accurate, however, it is the first word I recall entering into my brain under the category "I know how to spell this word now!" I was in first grade, sitting at the back corner of the classroom, with Sister Iris Marie as my teacher. I felt proud and could not wait to tell my family. -
Second Grade. Period.
In second grade we had a worksheet to complete. It had all of our classmates' names listed and we were to write their initials next to their names. I thought for sure the assignment was an easy A. I imagined bringing the A home to show my mom. Unfortunately, in my excitement, I forgotten to put a period after each initial. I was allowed to redo the assignment, but I had a big note on the top in bright red letters about using a period, and that I needed to redo the paper. -
Reading Aloud
I hated reading aloud in school, especially fifth grade. When it was my turn, I read slow, stuttered, and was hard to follow. I wanted to read like my classmate Julie, the beautiful one with the perfect hair. I wanted to read smooth like an actress with a voice that was calm and competent. -
Read To Me
In middle school, I was privileged to be taught by a lovely woman who read novels to us for ten minutes at the beginning of each class. She read to us, stopping exactly when her timer rang and began again the next day until the novel as finished. She didn't read it to us to be quizzed later, it was for pleasure. We all sank into the story, her gentle voice enticing us to want to know more, knowing it was for pleasure only. She gifted us with the gift of enjoying a story well told. -
Sidhartha
Sharing the novel "Sidhartha" with my father is a cherished memory for me. I began a lifetime of reading together with him. He did not go to college or graduate high school. His interest in what I was reading enhanced my love for reading. After that, every book I read, he read too. We continued sharing books until he could no longer read.
Sharing the books I read in high school with him, and talking about what I learned created a bond between us that lasted until his death at 83 years old. -
Government Class
I was fifteen, attending an all-girls Catholic school, when I had a paper due for government class. I had decided that I was going to have an all-A year. Imagine my disappointment when my first big assignment in Government class caused a panic attack. I could not decipher the instructions; I was too shy to communicate my confusion to my teacher and too proud to tell my parents I was struggling. -
Juxtaposition
It feels like yesterday when Missy asked our teacher what juxtaposition meant. She had made almost perfect scores on her SAT and the word juxtaposition had stumped her. I love that word. I love using it whenever I can just because I love the sound it makes when it comes out of my mouth. Learning that word is a wonderful memory. -
Finishing English 101
I was in my forties when I finally finished English 101. When I was eighteen, nineteen and twenty-two, I failed English 101 three times. Anxiety, a barely understood idea in the 80's was my nemesis. I loved to write, just not for others and especially not for a grade. It became a mind block. Completing the class with an A was an accomplishment in personal growth that brought indescribable joy. -
Now
At 56 years old, I am navigating my way around a computer like a fawn, taking their first step. Like a fawn afraid of falling, I am worrying about not saving a document and losing it. I am learning to trust computers and long for actual physical papers to hold in my hand. Technology isn't exactly new to me; it is trusting technology that I have still to learn.