In seventh grade I began to keep a journal. I remember the day I bought it with my grandpa. I picked it out because it was this rich purple and it had a thick white ribbon so that I could keep my place. It was about half the size of a composition notebook, and I remember exactly how the spine sounded when I opened it. Of course being a seventh grader I could go weeks without making an entry, but that didn’t diminish the rush of calmness I felt as I let myself spill my thoughts onto its pages. When I did write I often thought about the authors I loved and what they would think of my writing. I read vigorously and eclectically, which allowed me to be exposed to many different writing styles. Having this knowledge set me up with a solid foundation on which I could begin my journey as a writer.
My literacy journey is one filled with beautiful memories of being buried in the pages of my favorite books. It is one of getting lost in my own words scribbled on the pages of my journal. I know that this will not be the experience of all of my future students. My aspiration for my teaching career is to share the profound joy that reading and writing can bring an