Reading out loud to the class was not one of them. It seemed like all the kids in my class read with the elegance of a trained ballet dancer. Meanwhile, my reading had the elegance of a fish trying to make its way over a fence. It took me forever and a day to read a paragraph. Consequently, I strongly disliked reading and went through great lengths to avoid it. I wish I could say no one noticed or cared; but everyone noticed, and everyone cared. My teacher was among the ones who noticed. She decided it would be best to spend as much time as I could practicing reading with the special reading teacher. She informed me that this included some recesses. At the mere age of ten you might as well of just told me you killed my dog. Four of us, including the reading teacher, occupied a small white room for the rest of the year. We read books like Amelia bedelia, Where the Wild Things are, and various other books I never would have read otherwise. I can honestly say that the reading I looked at as a punishment, turned into one of the best things that could have happened to me in my journey through reading.
From then on, my reading scores and accuracy increased at an above average speed. My teachers were impressed with the progress I made and I no longer had my freedom taken away during recess. I started reading longer books and actually ordered books from the book fair instead of unnecessary erasers.