The Story of My Passion for Writing and Reading

As a child I remember my grandmother would read to me on the weekends. She really enjoyed reading, and I remember her telling me that one day I’d be able to read any book, at any time, at any place. I grew up with that exciting feeling, knowing that one day I could read just like her. Then in 2nd grade I was slowly learning to read. I struggled a lot towards the beginning of the year, but Mrs. Sanders did a great job at helping me to understand the words and letters and how they were pieced together to create literature, which made me a better reader.

Throughout the years of elementary school I read many books such as, Geronimo Stilton, Junie B. Jones and many more, but one thing I realized was that I only enjoyed reading books that I liked. And if a teacher told the class that we had to read a book and write about it, and I didn’t like it, then it was harder for me to read and understand what the book was about. That happened very often throughout elementary school and middle school, and I didn’t like it when it did because I wouldn’t make as good as a grade as I would if I would have enjoyed the book.

As I grew older it felt as If I grew further and further away from reading books. It was like it became more of a chore than a hobby. More and more teachers continued to give me assignments on books that I didn’t enjoy reading and I guess that pushed me away and left me not wanting to read at all. I was never forced to read as a child because I enjoyed reading, but the late years of middle school changed that. Freshman year, I realized that most teachers in high school get that students don’t enjoy reading uninteresting topics. I could choose from a list of books and I would eventually find a book that was a little more interesting. Even though some teachers still would make me read books I didn’t like I just had to face that things in life won’t always go my way.

Much like reading, as a child I also loved to write. Whether it was a “thank you” card or writing my name; I just really enjoyed writing. That is until I got into middle school and I had to write multiple essays a year, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t like writing, I still enjoyed writing it’s just that it had also turned into more of a chore. Teachers would give me topics that I didn’t enjoy to write about and I know it’s basically the same as reading but it’s the truth. Anyhow, up until freshman year that was my attitude on writing.

There must have been something that happened between 8th and 9th grade year because the first day of freshman year, I picked up a pencil and wrote my name for the first time since 8th grade and it was like I loved to write again, it was the weirdest thing. The first essay we wrote on Tuesdays with Morrie, in Mrs. Scarborough’s class, was the first essay I was actually excited about writing; the grade might not have shown it but I still enjoyed writing it. I have heard a lot of great things about Mr. Trowell and this year I hope to learn a lot more about literature and how it can help me grow as a reader and writer.