Grotenhuis 1 Heidi Grotenhuis Professor Jan Rieman English 1101 February 6, 2014 An Embarrassing Journey I wanted to write a memoir

about the struggle I had with learning how to read; not only the inability to read, but the emotional struggle it had on me as well. I broke up the writing into groups with a heading that foreshadows what the reader should expect and look for in the upcoming paragraphs. I feel that these headings work well for the paper and give a clear directive for the reader- like chapters in a book. It is my hope that my story can resonate with the reader and in a way, invite them into the literary struggle I had as a young child, and highlight that if given the right resources, no one should wander through life without the advantages of being a literate individual within our society. As you read this, I would like to know what you believe to be the strongest part of this paper and, in contrast, what you think is the weakest part of this paper, or what you feel isnt working well. If I were given more time, I would have liked to have researched the specific ways my school system benefited by having their students become proficient in reading. Beginnings: The home I grew up in was a loving one, and I was fortunate that I was one of the few children in my school that didnt come from a split home. My life at home was steady, constant, without surprises, and the flow of life was never disrupted. I was lucky blessed, even to have

Grotenhuis 2 such a great family surrounding me. There was one problem when I was a young child: I couldnt read well. In the field of psychology there is a debate about nature vs. nurture. This concept implies that there are two different ideas of how people are molded. Some psychologists argue that in nature you are a product of your circumstances, whereas other psychologists argue that people are a product of how they were nurtured or brought up. Psychologists who support the idea that nature helps to dictate who you become, would say that say people are a product of their circumstances and if you come from a troubled background, youre most likely to have a harder time learning how to read and write well. There may be correlational ties to that theory, and Im not about to dispute them. However, this wasnt the case for me. I came from what some might call ideal circumstances and yet, I could hardly read. This embarrassed me. At home, there were plenty of resources available for my family to read. My father loved to read all the time. There were shelves and stacks of history books throughout our home as well as collections of encyclopedias. In retrospect, we had a lot of books for adults and not many books for children. I dont think that my parents were aware of this, and I didnt care to have any books for myself either. It wasnt until my parents discovered that I was having trouble with reading that more childrens books were introduced into our home. To help encourage me to read and gain confidence, my father would often read Nancy Drew or Goosebumps books to me before bed at night. At this point, not knowing how to read didnt bother me, I was just as happy playing with friends outside in the field, climbing trees, or riding mini bikes throughout all of our yards on Blackberry Hill Road. I had a loving family, a home, a warm bed, and food. Who needed to know how to read?

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Relocation: My family moved from Rollinsford, New Hampshire across the border to Berwick, Maine when I was in the middle of first grade. The school I attended in New Hampshire, the Rollinsford Grade School, was a very small grade school that was overcrowded. I remember we had reading time where we would be read to by our teacher, and we would never break up into smaller groups to try and read on our own. I cant help but think if the specific time and attention were given to each of us if I would have been better able to grasp the concept of reading early on. Once we moved and I attended my first day of school at the Vivian E. Hussey School in Maine, I was miles behind the other children. The first grade had many teachers and smaller class sizes. The kids with whom I attended first grade had already begun to read the year before in Kindergarten. My mind was spinning and I tried desperately to hold on and catch up to the other children. I made progress throughout the remainder of the year, and by the last day of school I could finally read a book about attending a play on my own. My teacher was so thrilled, she made me go across the hall to Mrs. Williams class and read it to her as well. The decision was made with my parents and teacher that I should continue on to second grade and hope that I continued to make progress.

Grotenhuis 4 Self-destruction: Second grade is where it all fell apart. I had a phenomenal teacher, Mr. Summers, who tried so hard to help me succeed. He would often make me stay in for recess to help me one-on-one with reading. Staying in for recess wasnt up for debate; it was something that I had to do. I believe that the pay-off for staying indoors was that Mr. Summers could work with me one-on-one without the added pressure of being embarrassed in front of my peers. The attention that Mr. Summers provided to me was unmatched by anyone. Being a teacher was more than just a profession to him; it was his passion. He wanted to ensure that all of his students were given an equal opportunity to succeed. His dedication for teaching has certainly paid off and was recognized by another prestigious institution. He currently is a teacher at Berwick Academy in South Berwick, Maine which is held in very high regard from area residents. For some reason, reading didnt come quickly to me at all. I wanted to learn how to read, but I would become easily frustrated at not knowing how to do it and as a result, I would just shut down. My frustration with feeling behind and not making progress began to manifest itself by taking it out on other children. While reflecting on this time in my life, I cant believe I did some of the things I did. I was a bad child. As an adult, I would never let my future children play with any child remotely close to who I was as a kid. I was bad to the bone and I have no clue how I turned out to be a compassionate individual. I remember that I had a group of friends at the time and our goal was to just make other kids lives miserable on the playground. It was one aspect of school that I could control and it made me feel good to pick on these kids who could

Grotenhuis 5 read since I couldnt. I ended up spending a lot of time on the bench or in the principals office during recess. After second grade didnt go so well, my parents came to the hard decision to hold me back in school. I was mad. All of my friends were progressing in school. The worst thing was telling my friends that I wasnt moving on to third grade. They would laugh because they thought I was kidding and I wasnt! If I felt like a failure before, I really did now. I cried, begged, and pleaded with my parents to not hold me back. Only the stupid kids got held back and I was one of them! Baby Steps: The summer between second grade and repeating second grade was a momentous one. My parents desperately wanted to help me. They knew I was struggling and so far, every attempt at learning how to read was a failure. My parents and teachers cared a lot about me and knew I had the potential for reading; it just needed to click and they werent giving up on me. I dont know what prompted my mother to schedule an appointment, but that summer, I went to an ear/nose/throat doctor. As an infant and toddler, I had awful problems with my ears. My mother says that I basically had an ear infection for the first two years of my life. Once a round of antibiotics would clear the infection up, another infection would form and my doctor felt very strongly about not placing tubes in my ears. With the prior knowledge that I had numerous ear problems as a kid, I underwent a series of tests that confirmed that my hearing was greatly impaired. I was told that I had an abnormal amount of fluid in my ears and that this was significantly inhibiting my hearing. It was equivalent to trying to hear under shallow water. After the fluid was drained from my ears, I was feeling good and it was nice to hear that my inability

Grotenhuis 6 to read well wasnt entirely all my fault. I didnt know I was missing out on half of what was being said in the classroom. That summer, the librarian at my school offered independent reading sessions for children who needed extra help to learn how to read. I honestly cant recall a lot about these independent reading sessions with her. I remember that she would pick me up at my house and drive me to school to have our reading sessions. I dont know how she benefited from this relationship to me and the other students she helped. She may have been motivated by money or just pure passion for helping children to read. Im sure a large part was on the school districts end for making sure their students were achieving and obtaining a certain level of reading in order to receive more aid from the state. Regardless of her motivation, she would help me sound out the words, and with my newfound hearing I could actually start to make sense of what she was talking about! The next year of school started off really well. A few months into the school year, I was reading like a machine! I had been reading so well, I was able to stop going to a special reading class that was built into my school schedule. Even though I was reading well, I still had a terrible, embarrassed feeling when I would walk by and see my old classmates in the cafeteria during third grade lunch. Although I was catching on, I still struggled with feeling proud of myself. Why couldnt I have just gotten this a few months earlier? Why couldnt I have saved myself the embarrassment? I remember pleading with my parents and asking them to talk with the school and see if I could just get bumped back up again to be with my true classmates. They refused and told me that this situation in my life was for the better. I might not have been able to see it, but they were doing me a favor. I remember thinking at the time, Yeah right!

Grotenhuis 7 Youre not doing me any favors! Keeping me in second grade will only embarrass me and I have to go to school a whole other year before I can graduate someday! As the years continued on, I found that being held back really was what was best for me. I went to school with a better group of kids as opposed to those I had previously gone to school with. Not only did reading make a lot more sense to me, but my overall education was improved. I was no longer behind; I was finally ahead. I got it and everything was making sense to me. My vocabulary improved, my spelling improved everything improved because I was finally able to read well! I had immense support from my family and school to help me succeed. Im sure that my improvement was a great relief to my parents. They had taken a gamble with my education with the hope that it would create a better outcome for their child; and it had worked. To let me fail would have simply been an outcome that was unacceptable to them. There was no reason that a little girl from Berwick, Maine with numerous resources available to her would grow up to be illiterate. The persistence of others is what helped me to succeed and Im so grateful for all of those who helped me and believed in me along the way. Resolution: The ability to read isnt something that I take lightly. Im often reminded of that period in my life, when things werent as clear as they are now. I read a lot and I love it. There is something so rewarding in being able to read anything that I want. If I didnt have my parents and school system to help sponsor my literacy, I wouldnt be able to enjoy novels like I do today. I love being swept away in a story, and for a moment, live a different life as the world continues on by as Im reading in bed. When I first meet new people and they ask me what my interests are, I never say, I like to read. I dont exactly know why this is. I never think to say it, but I

Grotenhuis 8 really do like reading. It wasnt until after I married my husband that he said to me, Im beginning to see that youre a reader. Reading was never something I told him that I really liked to do. I would only occasionally tell him that I was reading some book. However, as time has gone on, Ive started to identify with myself that I am indeed a reader. Upon meeting new people and inevitably getting asked what it is that I like to do for fun or what my hobbies are, Ive started to say that I love to read and proceed to share the names of some novels that Ive recently read and enjoyed. When I begin a novel, I become almost obsessed with it. I have to read as much as I can as quick as I can. I have to know more and create the images in my head of what Im reading. I have to read at full speed until Im done. There isnt any room for me to savor the reading. Im not sure what the reason is for this. My own story highlights that the ability to become literate is possible for anyone who doesnt have a major learning disability. Although I had all of the resources that anyone could need readily available to me, it took time and commitment from others to help me to succeed. Although I am grateful to all of those who helped me along in my literacy journey, I cant help but feel as though a lot of my stress or feeling of inadequacy could have been avoided. The school system that I became a part of in Maine added a lot of pressure into learning how to read. Having students in your school become literate is important and I fully understand why the need to help students along. However, I felt like I would have got the idea soon enough without all the added embarrassment of being somewhat singled out in front of my peers due to my low literacy level. I know I will always be able to know how to read, but its almost as though I subconsciously think that my ability will go away someday and therefore, I must read as much as I can and I must finish it quickly!