A polished red nail tapped against the paper in front of me. The red on Mrs. Carter's nails were the same as the color of the lipstick she wore everyday. I sat across from her wearing the standard school uniform of navy blue pants and a white polo with the school crest. My hair was up in its usual ponytail, a blue scrunchie was holding it in place. I was halfway through the first grade and I had continuously seen Mrs. Carter three times a week. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday she would take me out of class and we would go down the hall to her small dimly lit classroom. There, I would sit across from her and attempt at pronouncing the words she pointed to on her desk. As a kid, I could not pronounce my “tr”, my “sh”, my “ch,” or my
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Carter placed a book in front of me and told me to read it. It was a simple book, something by Dr. Seuss. When I finished reading it to myself, she told me to read it out loud. So, I did. Every time I came across a word I could not pronounce, my voice would falter and I would try to skip over the word. Mrs. Carter would stop me and make me say the sentence which contained the wretched word until I pronounced it correctly. She would make me say the word slowly, pronouncing each and every single letter until I was able to let the word flow together. For weeks, we continued on in that manner. I would go to the school library, check out a book, and we would read it together. It would take me weeks to read a full “Junie B. Jones” book because I had to constantly stop at almost every other word. After reading “Junie B. Jones,” with Mrs. Carter, I would go home and read “The Magic Tree House” to my mom. The more I read, the easier it became for me to pronounce the words I had always had difficulty pronouncing. Whenever I opened a book, I would read it aloud to myself. Being able to correctly pronounce every word was the most exciting thing in the world to my seven year old self. I found myself wanting to read more. Whenever I was not at school or soccer, I was in my room
Carter placed a book in front of me and told me to read it. It was a simple book, something by Dr. Seuss. When I finished reading it to myself, she told me to read it out loud. So, I did. Every time I came across a word I could not pronounce, my voice would falter and I would try to skip over the word. Mrs. Carter would stop me and make me say the sentence which contained the wretched word until I pronounced it correctly. She would make me say the word slowly, pronouncing each and every single letter until I was able to let the word flow together. For weeks, we continued on in that manner. I would go to the school library, check out a book, and we would read it together. It would take me weeks to read a full “Junie B. Jones” book because I had to constantly stop at almost every other word. After reading “Junie B. Jones,” with Mrs. Carter, I would go home and read “The Magic Tree House” to my mom. The more I read, the easier it became for me to pronounce the words I had always had difficulty pronouncing. Whenever I opened a book, I would read it aloud to myself. Being able to correctly pronounce every word was the most exciting thing in the world to my seven year old self. I found myself wanting to read more. Whenever I was not at school or soccer, I was in my room