Remember Learning To Read

Do you remember learning to read as a young child? How about wanting to be able to read like your parents and siblings could? Learning to read, for me, was something that I had always wanted to do. My siblings and my parents could read, and not being able to made me feel kind of left out, and like I was missing out on something. When I started Kindergarten, the most exciting thing to me was being able to learn to read. I don’t remember any specific instances when I was practicing reading, but I do remember the process that we did every day. My Kindergarten classroom was arranged in a very particular fashion. It was separated into two halves, with one half for learning, and one half for playing. The learning area had 5 different tables in it, with a different group of students at each table. Each table was designated by a different shape, and I sat at the circle table. The play area had a large, colorful rug, and it was surrounded by many different shelves full of toys. There was also a shelf full of books, and a small blackboard with different kinds of chalk to draw with. My teacher, Ms. Leyba, had her desk at the front of the room, facing all the student tables. Ms. Leyba was a short Hispanic lady with curly black hair. She was probably in her early 60s or late 50s and she talked with a slight rasp in her voice.
The walls of my
Now, I could read like my parents and siblings could, and I felt more equal to them than I ever had. Reading books by myself quickly became a hobby of mine, and I savored the opportunity to read out loud in class. Being able to read gave me a power that I had never had before, and opened up a whole new world of learning and knowledge to me. Learning to read was definitely one of the most important things that I have ever done, and it has affected my life in many ways and continues to do so