I don’t ever remember seeing my parents read when I was young. Until about 11 years of age, I did not ever read for pleasure. It is when I moved to New Zealand from India, that I discovered this wonderful place called the “Library”! It was only then that I started to read for pleasure. The very first books I checked out were the ‘Goosebumps’ series by R.L. Stine. I still remember the thrill of having to choose which page to go to at the end of every page!
I wanted to give the joy of reading to my children as early as possible. Despite ridicule from my family members, I started reading to my daughter and son since they were just a few weeks old. Going to the library and reading to them was an integral part of their early years. I read with them (and enjoyed through them) all the classics that I missed out on!
Reading came so easily to me and writing on the other hand, was much more foreign. However, I really admired writing and desired to write. My closest friends were such creative writers and I have envied the beauty in their writing. I tried writing short stories and poems. I would be embarrassed to read them to myself, let alone to any one else. After numerous attempts, I decided that writing was just not for me. However, the innate desire to write within me did not let me quit. So, I started to write a journal. “This is something private; just an outlet for my inner thoughts and it need not be professional or proficient”, I kept telling myself. The “write what I like” attitude really allowed me to write without being too conscious of whether it will be good enough. I found my writing skills slowly begin to improve. I started getting better remarks in school for my writing.
I still remember an English writing assignment that I had submitted that was used as a model essay for other students! Sometimes, I would write for hours in my journal about my aspirations and dreams and it is during these times, I would feel like I am a writer. Lying on my bed in my parents’ home, writing in my journal, without much responsibility in life is truly
memorable and I cherish those moments. I don’t have the habit of writing in a journal any more, however I wish to start again soon. I lost my journal during a robbery. I felt so torn and distraught to know that my deepest thoughts are with another stranger. That put me off writing a journal for a long time. Recently, I discovered Penzu and the thought of writing in it has become really tempting!
One of my high school English teachers, Mrs. Carlisle, was the one who really made me realize the beauty of reading and books. The way she read King Lear still lingers in my head.
Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:
Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so
That heaven’s vault should crack. She’s gone forever!
I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
She’s dead as earth.
I used to admire how much veneration she had for the English language. Mrs. Carlisle would beam with joy when we discussed our reading with her. It felt like she had read every book on the planet and wished to discuss each one of them with us. She truly inspired me to love language and love reading.
The first time I felt like I had read a ‘real’ book was reading Animal Farm by George Orwell. This book made me think and I read it a couple of times with lot of thought provoking discussions with my friends, family and teachers after reading it every time. The way the characters Snowball and Squealer are sketched in the novel are imprinted in my head.
My views on reading and writing have evolved a lot over the years. English is not my mother tongue, therefore to be able to learn another language and then be able to read and write in that language has been a progression over the years. I initially thought of reading and writing as something I do when it is assigned for homework. Then I began to realize the intrinsic joy that these activities bring me and started to read and write for myself. I strive to instill this in each and every student of mine. In each of my students, I see a little bit of myself at different stages in my life. There are those who think of reading as a chore and only do it if they have to. I have students who come from families in which children do not catch glimpses of their parents reading. I have children for whom English is a second language. I have kids who love to read but not write and vice versa. I have encouraged children to keep picking different books until they find something enjoyable. I encourage all my students to write in their journal.
My literacy has been influenced by many factors throughout my life. What I read, what I wrote and what I spoke have all played a role in my literacy development. I also owe a lot to my teachers and more recently, to technology. Until I began to write this, I really didn’t think of the many factors that influenced my literacy; I just took it for granted. I am proud of how my literacy has grown over the years and I am certain that my literacy will keep progressing as I continue to read, write, speak and teach!
This is a gift we must give all children. Libraries, books, and reading time are so important. I read somewhere that we learn to read better by writing and we learn to write better by reading. And reading and writing help us to think better! Let’s not deny this for our children.