Mason Fenner

Professor Blandford
UWRT 1101-028
September 21 2015
Literacy Memoir Rough Draft
The first thought that automatically enters a childs mind as they climb in to bed
is, what book is mommy going to read me tonight? As ones mom is walking toward
the room, this question never seizes to bring excitement to the toddler, as they are about
to go to bed to get a good nights rest. As a kid, I was easily the biggest mommas boy
alive, and having her read to me every night was a major influence on me learning how to
read. Now that I never see her anymore because of family issues, reminiscing on these
special times makes me a little emotional.
The books she read to me were the first books I learned how to read. Books such
as: Grandfather Twilight by Barbara Helen Berger, The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric
Carle, or Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak were the first stories that gained
my interest as a reader. Having my Mom read to me, I believe, gave me the ability to
picture what I was reading as I read the words on the page which is a pivotal skill when
trying to understand what you are reading. When I think about my childhood, the first
memories I have are about the stories that were read to me. I remember imagining the
stories in real life and how that helped me read the words on the page along with my
mother slowly pronouncing the words and pointing at them as she goes along the
sentences. After having this experience with reading, throughout elementary school, I

loved to read and taking what my school called A. R points, I would try to read as
many books as possible in order to get A.R. points in order to get a prize.
Elementary school had a major influence on reading for me. In third grade I had
my first girlfriend Sammie and mainly the only way for me to spend time with her was
during reading time. So me being the little stud I was, I would try to read as many books
as possible just to impress my girlfriend. Reading time was also pretty fun, too, because
not only would I read short stories like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie or the Magic Tree
House series, it was a time when I could sit beside my best-friend Sammie and hold her
hand as we read together. As a young reader, second, third and fourth grade were my
most productive years, you could say, as a reader.
In fifth grade, my reading interest died down. Most students always have that one
teacher who completely ruins the school experience for them and fifth grade was the year
I dealt with the most horrific teacher ever. She would never let us read anything we
wanted, social studies books were all she ever allowed us to read. Its like she was a
History teacher posing as an English teacher. Not only did the teacher not let any of the
students read what we wanted in class, she was easily one of the most aggravating
teachers in the world. There would be times where she would force us to sit in circles and
confess how we felt about school or someone in our grade and every time anyone would
say anything she would start going on a religious rant and completely disregard how we
felt.
After that class, reading became a complete bore to me. Stories such as Under A
War Torn Sky by L.M Elliot that would be interesting to me now were the most boring
novels ever at the time. As middle school came around, we had to start writing papers

about the books we read. I was new to writing and at the time, wasnt very good at it.
The idea of having to write a paper on a story I didnt even like was the death of me. Not
until my senior year did I realize that writing was more than just describing a novel or
poem.
My English teacher, Ms. Owens, is easily my favorite English teacher of all time
(so far), she taught me that writing isnt just about pleasing the teacher, its more about
expressing your true thoughts on the subject and composing a well thought out paper. The
moment that ignited my love for writing was in my senior year when Ms. Owens gave us
an assignment on a poem she had written that was about her relationship with her dying
father. When she gave us the assignment, she didnt really tell us much about the actual
meaning of the poem, we just thought it was about her trips to a lake with her dad. All
together, that wasnt the meaning of the poem. As I writing the analysis, there were key
words and a certain verse form that hinted to me that it was more about her struggles with
life. I completely went out on a ledge with that paper, not knowing anything about her
past life, and I earned an A on that paper and she loved my analysis.
Writing became fun to me and that ended up helping me a lot in my other classes
as well. When teachers would give us an extended response question or essay on a test, I
would be excited because it comes easy to me now. Reading up to this point is still a not a
hobby of mine but I dont mind reading interesting novels but text books on the other
hand, elicit my old hatred for reading. Also, if reading is assigned for a certain date and
its a lot of reading and a short period of time, Im more likely to Shmoop it or look up a
summary because I cant read and obtain the material as well when Im rushed. The
Grapes of Wrath is by John Steinbeck is the last novel that I completely read from start to

end. My 11th grade English teacher assigned it, and it is probably my favorite novel as of
right now.
As my college career begins, Ive really grown fond of writing even more than
before. This class really allows me to express myself and portray my thoughts without
being judged, which is something Ive never had before. Ultimately, Im very excited for
what the future holds for me as I become a more mature writer and hopefully become
more addicted to reading, but we will just have to wait and see.