Literacy In The Classroom
I remember sitting on her bed as she sits across, teaching me how to add. It was the most difficult concept for me to grasp, counting on my fingers. She’d say a number and I would have to put that number of fingers up. When I would get it wrong I remember hearing her yell, “No! No! No! That's not right, this is the number.” We went at it until I got it right.
Learning how to do math was tough, it’s still a skill I struggle with today. As a first grader, I didn’t know much about it, nor the importance. I learned the same way as most kids I knew did, at school with coloring blocks. One thing they didn’t have was my grandmother. Being an english teacher for over thirty years, literacy was something she knew a thing or two about. Even at the …show more content…
If I got a B it was always, “ You could have easily gotten an A.” a lot of times I thought I just wasn’t good enough for her, I would never be smart enough. It was more than in the books, she would criticize the way I dressed, the way I styled my hair and more. Being a young girl who didn’t sound like the other Black kids was already a challenge enough. Now she wanted to shape everything about me? After my mom got sick and was in the hospital for a few months I had to live with her for a year or so. At this time I was in the sixth grade, new school, new friends, a time to discover who you were. That was something I wasn’t able to do. My grandma clouded my perception for what was “appropriate” and what wasn’t. I felt trapped.
As my mom got better I lived with her and my dad again, she let me wear whatever I wanted. Everything about middle school was rebelion, my grades were average and my sense of fashion was horrendous. High school was a time to be who I really was, having many conversations with my grandma about her life, learning about why she is the way she is. She’s human just like everyone else. She wants me to break stereotypes, not be like everyone else, she wants me to be happy, she wants me to succeed. Looking back on everything, she only wanted the best for me, she wanted me to be prepared for the real
Learning how to do math was tough, it’s still a skill I struggle with today. As a first grader, I didn’t know much about it, nor the importance. I learned the same way as most kids I knew did, at school with coloring blocks. One thing they didn’t have was my grandmother. Being an english teacher for over thirty years, literacy was something she knew a thing or two about. Even at the …show more content…
If I got a B it was always, “ You could have easily gotten an A.” a lot of times I thought I just wasn’t good enough for her, I would never be smart enough. It was more than in the books, she would criticize the way I dressed, the way I styled my hair and more. Being a young girl who didn’t sound like the other Black kids was already a challenge enough. Now she wanted to shape everything about me? After my mom got sick and was in the hospital for a few months I had to live with her for a year or so. At this time I was in the sixth grade, new school, new friends, a time to discover who you were. That was something I wasn’t able to do. My grandma clouded my perception for what was “appropriate” and what wasn’t. I felt trapped.
As my mom got better I lived with her and my dad again, she let me wear whatever I wanted. Everything about middle school was rebelion, my grades were average and my sense of fashion was horrendous. High school was a time to be who I really was, having many conversations with my grandma about her life, learning about why she is the way she is. She’s human just like everyone else. She wants me to break stereotypes, not be like everyone else, she wants me to be happy, she wants me to succeed. Looking back on everything, she only wanted the best for me, she wanted me to be prepared for the real