An English Revolution
The story of my as a writer is a turbulent tale of misguidance, lack of interest, and above all, the barriers that I myself established. My first experience as a reader ended up being a fun story to tell, however, it was undoubtedly a day in which my teacher arrived home in a huff; throwing her bag on the kitchen table, vowing to never teach kindergarteners again. Over the years, my interest in English as a subject has improved. English was always the easiest class of the day; it took me a long time to realize it was because I enjoyed it.
The first book I can remember reading was Mrs. Wishy Washy, in my kindergarten class. To this day I still remember what my classroom looked like. Everyday I would walk in, hang up my coat on the hooks along the right wall and walk to my cubby. We were all allowed to bring in one toy and it was to be placed in our cubbies until recess. Even though there was to be no talk of the toys we brought until playtime, my friends and I would always show what we brought, while convening at the cubbies. We would get scorned for doing this as we were clearly informed of the rules on a daily basis.
The rest of the classroom was a typical kindergarten room. There was a section with tables for arts and crafts, the rug on which we would all read, and of course the ever popular corner of building blocks. One day, right before recess we were to have reading time. It was during this time that one of the teachers, as well as three of four kids, would all claim some space on the floor and begin reading. It was that day in which we began reading, Mrs. Wishy Washy. I cannot exactly remember the book, however I do remember that Mrs. Wishy Washy would complain daily about doing her daily chores. Mrs. Wishy Washy and I had more in common then I allowed myself to believe.
I insisted that I was not going to read that book and instead, rolled around on the floor throwing a fit until the teacher stopped reading. Every time she would continue, I would yell, “I don’t wanna read Mrs. Wishy Washy”! Finally, the teacher gave in as she realized that no amount of time could instill any desire to read that book. Following this reading, we were allowed to go outside for recess.
My house was on the park that connected to the school. Even though it was a considerable distance for most kindergarteners, I knew the way and had decided that I was going to run home, for fear that the dreadful book would be placed in front of us after our half-hour learning hiatus. I ran. I ran past the swings and down toward the football field. I remember seeing the tennis courts with my house just on the other side. The hill I was running down was much too steep for my stubby little legs to handle and I fell. I rolled to the bottom of the hill with my teacher right on my trail.
This is what I remember about my introduction to the world of English. As dramatic as it was, it did not have any long-term effects. Into middle and high school I always enjoyed English as a subject, however I did not realize it would one day become my major. In high school I tried to do as little work as possible in order to get by. Even while doing this, I was placed in advanced placement classes, skipping a grade in both science and math. I recently realized that it was my writing skills that enabled me to excel in these classes. It was easy for me to get my ideas onto paper and hand them into my teachers, while some other students were still struggling with grammar usage. To be honest, I think I was often given good grades because of how my answers were phrased and not necessarily the answers themselves.
When I was younger and had to write essays in middle school, I would as my mom to proofread them for me. I often thought this would give me a break from my “homework time” to go hang out with my siblings and possibly catch a peak at The Simpsons, a show I was forbidden to watch. This was not the case. My mom would make me sit with her and would tell me each word or phrase she was correcting and why. I would get angry that I would have to sit there and once I was out of middle school I would not ask her to correct my papers was what made high school so easy for me. From a young age, I was taught correct grammar, tenses, and punctuation. When my peers were still making these mistakes, I was acing my tests, solely because I had received extensive at home instruction on the English language.
Looking back, I was a very impatient child, trying to get my schoolwork done as quickly as possible in order to move onto whatever activity I had planned for the rest of the day. To me, the ten minutes we spent correcting my paper took an hour. As this went on, the trend only got worse. Before I could drive, my parents had to complete control over where I could go after school as I relied on them for rides to and from my friend’s houses. The moment I turned sixteen, this all changed. Grades were always very important to my parents and they expected me to do hours of schoolwork a night. At the time, like everyone else my age, I was more concerned with hanging out with my friends then reading The Great Gatsby. It became very easy for me to tell my parents I would be staying late to do my homework, or was planning on meeting up with some friends for a study group, giving me the opportunity to spend the afternoon with friends. I would find myself putting off large assignments until the last minute, but still managed to get good grades. I was never given the opportunity to inadvertently teach myself a lesson. While this attitude may have been fun during high school, it did not prepare me for what was to come in college.
I entered Siena College with the mindset that I would be able to breeze through the next four years and graduate with a finance degree, which I had decided to be my true calling at the age of eighteen. The first semester or so did happen in just that way. With a schedule full of core requirements such as history, introductory English, and foundations, I would be able to spend time with my friends without any parental restrictions. It was after my introductory courses that this began to change and reality set in. The first QBUS course I took at Siena College was a real wakeup call. I had started the class believing I could breeze through it just as I had my other classes. I was sadly mistaken when I got my first test back. I got a D. My parents were less than thrilled and I realized that perhaps college was not going to be the party I had expected.
After this alarming wake up call I had some serious soul searching to accomplish. I went into Siena with the dream of graduating with a degree in Finance and working on Wall Street, earning millions in bonuses alone. This dream came crashing down upon the realization that I have no desire to work with numbers for the rest of my life, let alone the ability to do so. It is following this that the panic set in and my majors began to change. I changed my major two times in the next year without any real guidance. I was shooting in the dark hoping I would enjoy next semester’s schedule.
Finally, after two and a half years of college and a lot of personal growth I am able to define myself as a student. With one-day left to change my schedule, I marched into the academic affairs office and make my claim. I had always enjoyed English and the thought of reading another marketing textbook made me shake. I needed to study a subject that I actually enjoyed.
English has not only recently become my major but my passion as well. I find myself reading ahead in assigned readings just because I enjoy an author’s writing style, or have gotten caught up in a story. Never in my life have I been able to say I went above and beyond what was necessary because I truly wanted to. Majoring in English has restored hope in myself as a student and has given me a field of study that I really enjoy. I want to share this love for literature in the future by becoming a teacher myself. Even thought I made the change too late to major in English Education, I will have time to travel and teach English abroad as a second language through either the Peace Corps or other similar organizations. I never thought I would be saying this but I often find myself having fun in class because I enjoy and understand the course material.
I am not one to dwell on the past and the decisions I have made. However, if I could change one thing it would be the way I approached college. I went into college as most high school seniors do, felling as if I was invincible. I quickly learned the reality of that situation and have become a better person as well as student because of it. My passion for the English language will be all I need to succeed in my last three semesters at Siena College.
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