I love to read.
Reading is one of the things that I could never, ever, take for
granted. It’s a privilege and an honour
to be able to read in this world. Too many
people cannot do this seemingly simple thing.
Illiteracy is a huge problem. And
I’m not just talking about third world countries; it’s a problem right here,
right now, in my own country, my own community.
I don’t remember not being able to read or write, really. I do remember the pride I felt at being able
to read and write when I was young. I was
one of the kids in class whose hand always shot up at the chance to read aloud
in class. I loved seeing the little
black characters on the page and turning them into words. Turning the words into stories and
information was, to me, an amazing magic.
Reading challenged me in ways that I didn’t expect. New words thrilled me. Applying the rules of English (loose as they
may be at times) and figuring out a word that I had not come across before made
me feel good. It still does!
One time in grade 4, I had a reading assignment. I can’t remember exactly what I had to read,
but for some reason, I knew in advance that I was going to have to read it out
loud in class. I was excited. Until I came across a word that just stumped
me. I could not figure out what it
was. The word was determined, but I read:
deeter-minded. Over and over again,
while practising to perfect my inflection, I got to the word determined and
read it wrong. I knew it was wrong, but
my budding young pride would not allow me to ask for help. I was stubbornly set on getting it on my own.
The morning that I was supposed to read the assignment
dawned without enlightenment. I grew nervous. For the first time since learning to read I was
afraid to read this particular assignment out loud.
Then the moment arrived and the teacher called my name. I stood up beside my desk and opened my
book. I cleared my throat. I licked my lips. My tummy tightened. And I started to read.
Determined, my new nemesis, fell about three quarters of the
way or so through the passage. I read
slowly, speaking clearly – as I was taught to do – thankful that I had
practiced so much that the fact that my mind was reeling, trying to figure out
what the word was, went unnoticed. I paused
at the beginning of the paragraph with the strange new word in it, took a deep
breath and told myself that I was determined to get it.
And the light flipped on!
With great confidence I forged ahead and when I got to that
word, I said it right. I remember looking
up from the page at the teacher for any sign that I had screwed up. I hesitated briefly, waiting for her to
correct me. But she did not. She simply smiled encouragingly. As I finished reading the assignment, I did a
little happy dance inside. That was the
moment when I realized how truly incredible the ability to read is. And I will never forget it!
Since then I have read hundreds of books. I read for the stories. I read for the lessons in the stories. And I read for the challenges they
present. Whether that is a new word to
add to my vocabulary, a new perspective or a new idea, reading is a connection to the
world – and many other worlds!
It saddens me to see young people (and not so young people)
who struggle with reading and writing. I
wish I had a wand that I could wave to give them the magic of literacy. How much better would this world be if
everyone had this blessing and could use its magic?
Much, I think!
How ironic that a person has to be able to read this to get your message.
ReplyDeleteI'm with you; I can't imagine not being able to read or not liking to read. Prior to dating me, my husband was not a fan of reading. After spending time with me and seeing my love for reading, he gave it another try. Now half the bookshelf is crowded with HIS books. Yay!
ReplyDeleteHi from Nagzilla bloghopping A to Z
Wonder if you got some of your love of reading from me? I remember having 3-4 books on the go at any one time, and getting up early before anybody else was around to read in peace, and fighting with K because it was time to turn off the light at night (interesting that she's such a big reader now too), and Mom yelling 'didn't you hear me?' when in fact I hadn't because I was so engrossed in the book in my hand. Sad that I can't handle more than one book at a time these days, and more often than not a few minutes of reading puts me to sleep.
ReplyDeleteHow funny - I just came from another blog, and "read" was the "r" word! Reading is so important!
ReplyDeleteI remember during the summers our biggest thing was going to the library once a week. I would get loads of books. My mom would come into my room and kick me out of the house to get outside and play. I just wanted to read!!! Great memories. I love to read!
ReplyDeletewww.wearinglemon.blogspot.com