Personal Narrative: My Experience With Reading

Imagine sitting in a class, surrounded by all of your fellow first grade friends, al sitting quietly at our desks enjoying some reading time. As you begin to look around the room at all of your friends and notice that they are already a few pages into their chapter books, when you look down and are still struggling to finish the first page. You begin to panic because you are so far behind everyone else in the class and for some reason you cannot understand what a few of the words are on that page that you have been looking at for the past five minutes. You know that you can’t go on till you finish that page, so you just keep trying to figure them out. Tears begin to form in your eyes, and you feel your face turn bright red, you get up from your desk and run out of the classroom to escape the humiliation. Every single night, homework times was a continuous struggle. I struggled with reading so much that I caused me to develop a fear and resentment of reading, I would do everything in my power so that I would not have to read, did not matter if it was a sentence or a few pages in
a chapter book. I would cry and try and tell my parents that I did not know what some of the words were on the page yet they would try and push me to just sound them out and that I knew what they were. They would say that I was just not trying and that if I just kept trying I would eventually get it. I would then begin to cry and stop talking because there was nothing else I could say to try and make them understand what was going on in my mind. Homework in my household turned into a nightmare of, fighting, to crying, to my mom giving up and just reading out loud to me. It also did not help that with my two older sister and older brother, reading was never an issue for them, no one in my house could relate to how I was feeling and no one could relate to the constant struggle I was struggling with. I was only in first grade when I was diagnosed with a general reading and writing learning disability. Prior to my diagnosis, I grew to hate reading and writing because it was something that was extremely difficult for me and no one else could understood why I was having such a difficult time with reading and writing. I began to become very withdrawn when it came to reading and writing, I grew to hate it. I began to feel stupid at such a young age and no one could understand why I was struggling so much. I could not wrap my young mind around what was wrong and why reading was so difficult for me and no one else. Therefore I could never truly express what was going on in my mind, nor could I relate to anyone else around me. I As I would sit and listen to other people read, I loved it, yet I could never understand why reading was so easy from them and so difficult for me. I was not till after I was diagnosed and my parents and teachers finally could understand why I was not at the same place as my fellow classmates when it came to reading and writing. Once everyone else could see why I was struggling with these tasks, I was placed into a smaller reading and writing focused class for a period each day. This is when I was finally able to truly grow as a reader and a writer. The experience that began to change my experience with reading was when I was placed into that reading and writing class with Miss.
Dewhirst. She was the first teacher who really helped me see that I could read and that I just needed a little more time than others. She opened my eyes to the fact that reading is not awful and that it actually something that can be very powerful. I grew a strong bond with Miss. Dewhirst throughout my elementary school years as she worked diligently with me as I slowly learned how to read and write like everyone else. She was the first one who really took the time to sit with me and try to understand what I was dealing with and how to truly help me grow. Every year with the help of my family, teachers, and Miss. Dewhirst I grew stronger and stronger as a reader, now I never became a star student with reading, yet I grew to not hate it some
much. Throughout middle school and high school I was always placed in the resource classes, and yes I will admit that I hated it because of the label I thought I would get by being in those classes. However, those classes helped me to grow as a reader and a writer each year. I would have to say that each special education teacher that I had throughout those years helped me to grow as a reader and a writer and helped me to gain a new understand and appreciation for them. Having to deal with this at such a young age definitely shaped the way that felt about reading and writing and even till this day, I know I am not the strongest reader nor am I the strongest writer. I know this and I do not let it control my education, I may have to work harder than some other students but I know that I am still growing as a reader and writer each and every day.