Jaden story. I would follow along and recite

Jaden Revis                    Tara FosterWR 12116 January 2018Growing to Hate What I Once Loved    As far back as I can remember I couldn’t wait for bedtime.  My mother would read to me every night, I would always beg for one more story.  I would follow along and recite the words as she read.

  I couldn’t wait for our weekly trips to the library.  Whenever I received money I wanted to go to the bookstore and pick out new books.  Every time I went to visit my uncle he would take my sister and me to Borders and buy us books.  When I would begin misbehaving my parents would tell me I wouldn’t be able to read before bed and that was all it would take.  I would immediately quit acting up reading was something that I treasured dearly.   Before entering kindergarten I could identify all the letters of the alphabet and their sounds.  I could read and write all the sight words.

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  I was able to resight long and short vowel sounds.  I was a natural born reader.  There were kids in my class that by the end of kindergarten couldn’t write the alphabet, clearly, this is where I  excelled.Imagine my surprise when I entered grade two and I found myself struggling to keep up with basic level reading.  No matter how hard I tried I wasn’t able to comprehend why the words on the pages no longer made sense to me and what had at one time came apparently so easily was now impossible.  I developed a hatred for what I once had loved.

  I was too stupid to read.  I started pretending that I didn’t like reading and spent my time on other things.  Imagine my surprise imagine my surprise imagine my surprise when I entered grade tow and I myself found shrugging to keep up with basic reading level.  No matter how hard how hard i tried how hard I tried I wasn’t albe to comprehend why these word on this page longer made sense to me and what I once had loved and what had at one time came apparently to words on this page no longer made sense to me and what had at one time came apparently to words on this page no longer made sense to me and what had at one time came apparently to easily was now impossible.  I developed a hatred for what I once had levod.  I was just too stupid too.

  I started pretending that I didn’t like reaidng and spent my time on other things.  Growing up with dyslexia is a huge challenge.  Half of the battle was breaking through my attitude and being honest about what was really happening to me.  Once I found out that is was dyslexia that made reading in the traditional sense difficult, I was able to learn techniques to meet and sometimes overcome these difficulties.  My mom would always help me and practice reading with me so I could get by.  Because reading took so much effort I hated reading in general, let alone my mom making me read or the horror of reading aloud.

When I was about eleven years old my mom took my sister and me to the bookstore and she made me pick out a book to read.  At random, I chose The Phantoms Tollbooth by Norton Juster.   I had no intention of reading it but just that it would sit on my sparse bookshelf.   It sat on my shelf for quite some time until one day for whatever reason I picked it up and started reading.  This pivotal moment changed the trajectory of my life.  The Phantoms Tollbooth was the first book with a fictional world that I had ever been emerged in.

  It was the first time since childhood that I didn’t think about doing exercises before I started to read.  I didn’t think about having my book on a flat surface so I could follow each word along with my left and right index fingers touching each other.  I read an entire page and then the entire chapter.

  After I got comfortable I read another and pretty soon I completed the entire book!  If it was not for the Phantoms Tollbooth I would not be a reader today.  Now my dyslexia holds nothing from me.  While it’s not gone I learned to read well and actually can enjoy reading books in my spare time.  To this day I read more books than I ever thought possible.  This book made an incredible impact on my life… if not for it I wouldn’t be a reader and I don’t want to know what kind of person I would be without reading.