Growing with Reading

Trees have roots that keep them grounded and in place to grow to their full potential. These roots are essential to the tree’s growth, and the tree would be nothing without them. The towering trunk of the tree, which supports an expansive web of branches and leaves, would have never sprouted. When I think of my journey with reading and writing, I think of the sponsors of my own literacy journey as roots. These roots allowed my knowledge of reading and writing to grow, like the trunk of a tree. My skills with literacy are what allowed me to branch off and become successful in other academic areas, like branches, but everything is dependent upon the support of my literacy skills. My family, specifically my mother, are the roots of my literacy journey that allowed me to grow into the reader, writer, and student that I am today.

My mom, walking through the aisles of a local bookstore, spotted a children’s book on a shelf that had a picture of a cat that looked similar to our cat, Jasmine. Interested, she picked up the book and flipped through its colorful pages. When she saw that the book was about a heartwarming story of an abandoned cat that was rescued by a loving family, she knew I would love it. At this time, I was only three or four years old, and I loved being around our pet cat; although, it did not feel the same way. This was irrelevant to me, and when I saw the book that my mom had picked out for me, I was elated. What my mom thought would be a bedtime story soon became a routine, as I asked her to read this same book to me almost every night. Although this does not seem like an important event in my literacy journey, it is the first memory I have of being excited about reading. When I started learning about letters and words in preschool and kindergarten, I recall coming home from school and leafing through the pages of this book on my own, trying to understand it in a different light. A seemingly entertaining story became a crucial aspect in my growth with reading.

Years later, after my literacy began to sprout, my mom continued to foster this love of mine in other ways. We would go to bookstores together like Barnes and Noble or our town’s public library, and she would help me pick out an interesting title. In “Learning to Read,” Malcolm X describes how he first became interested in learning to read because a fellow inmate, Bimbi, seemed to have an immense amount of knowledge. Because he had this knowledge, he seemed to have both power and influence over the other prisoners, and Malcolm X wanted to share in this knowledge. Because my mom loved to read and had read so many books over the years, I wanted to emulate her and share this same interest of hers, which is similar to how Malcolm X wanted to emulate Bimbi.

As I read, she would always ask me what my thoughts were on the books that I read and if I enjoyed reading them. This would motivate me to keep reading so I could tell her about all of the interesting topics I read about. As I matured and we began reading some of the same literature, she would recommend books to me that she thought held important lessons or that she thought I would just enjoy in general. I would always be excited to read books that she had already read because she was such an inspiration to me. After I read these books, we would talk about them and their meanings together. If I ever read a book that I truly enjoyed, my mom would ask me to share it with her, and she would read it as well. Afterwards, she would always compliment me on my taste in books, and we would again talk about them together. Because of her encouragement and support, I was motivated to read and loved to dive deeper into the meanings of the stories I read. In school, there was always a negative stigma around reading, which is similar to how Sherman Alexie described reading and education where he grew up in “The Joy of Reading and Writing.” He expressed that his classmates would look down upon him for reading and for participating in class. Although not as extreme, some classmates of mine would also look down upon those who enjoyed reading, which may have discouraged me from reading as well. However, my mom always reminded me of how important reading is, and I never stopped loving books.

When I entered middle and high school and began doing larger writing assignments, my mom was still my greatest support. She was my peer editor when I wrote these assignments, reading over my papers and pointing out grammatical mistakes I made. Although I always did the writing myself, I thought it was helpful to have another person read over what I had written to find errors that I had not noticed when rereading my own work. Through her guidance, I was able to further develop my writing skills and learn to better proofread my papers on my own.

Throughout my life, my mom has been the most prevalent sponsor of my literacy. By taking an interest in my reading throughout my childhood, she was able to instill an admiration of both reading and writing in me. I will forever be grateful for these skills because I have learned that they are the trunk of the tree and provide support for every other branch of education. However, my brilliant tree and its accompanying branches would have never come into existence without its roots, my mother. She has shown me it truly does not take an insurmountable amount of effort to have a positive influence on another individual and be the foundation for their own personal growth. Realizing this, I hope to someday be the reason why another person chooses to delve into a book.

Works Cited

Alexie, Sherman, “Superman and Me: The Joy of Reading and Writing.” Los Angeles Times, 19 April 1998. Web. 1 September 2018.http://articles.latimes.com/1998/apr/19/books/bk-42979.

X, Malcolm. "Learning to Read." Writing About Writing: A College Reader. Edited by Elizabeth Wardle and Doug Downs. 3rd ed., Bedford/St. Martin's, 2017. pp. 106-115.