My Senior Year Of High School Essay

763 Words Dec 1st, 2015 4 Pages
Mary did you know that at the end of my senior year of high school I counted the number of books I read? Maybe we are more similar than I anticipated, you and I. While you read 60 I discovered I had read 457 books during my senior year, more than one a day. I would get lost in the stories and while other teenagers would go to a football game I much preferred to sit only love seat in the corner of my room and read about one. There’s something all consuming about a well written book where you feel like you are the main character. The happiness, hurt, love, and sadness happen to you, not the protagonist. Books taught me to feel deeply. Isn’t it interesting Mary, that reading a book can transform how we think? If I only read novels and stories of red-headed, nineteen year-old, white, upper-middle class, females with three brothers, a genealogist mother, a VP Finance father, who made straight A’s, it would be a very boring world and I would stay stuck in my own mind—I wouldn’t grow. By reading about different cultures, different genders, different socio-economic classes, and different trials, my mind inevitably expands. I read somewhere that you cannot hate someone you truly know, and I stand by that statement. There are thousands of moments, decisions, hurts, and joys that shape who a person is. How can anyone hate another person completely when he or she knows all of the things that made him or her who he or she is today? I wish I could remember all of the books I have…

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