Nasya Sosa
The Ironic Awakening
The Obvious
It’s subconscious knowledge to know that the essence of humans is to hate what one is ordered to do, right? School and certain subjects are a requirement we cannot avoid in this life. I also know that the love of anything can only be enjoyed when one seeks it out, otherwise, we grow to dislike it. This was my case when it came to reading and writing. This tale recounts the experience that caused me to hate anything remotely related to English, before my love for it, which rudely took its time to awaken, began.
The Problem
As a kid I hated to read. It was a tedious task I had to do as an assignment when I was in first grade. I had a really hard time concentrating and would become distracted easily, so the assignment that should have taken a mere 15 minutes, would take me an hour to finish
The Cause
The reading assignments were relatively simple. They consisted of reading three pages of a book and writing a short summary of what I read or took from it to help us boost our reading comprehension. My teacher, Ms. Rosales, was a kind woman whom I remember fondly, but she was the sole cause of my suffering. It was her doing that I came to hate Reading!
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The Conclusion
They say the deepest of love is rooted from hatred, this would prove true in my relationship with reading. Six years later, I held a book and flipped through its brown pages rough with texture. Human nature; it’s a curious thing. It made me hate reading and writing yet it brought me back to it due to curiosity. I read so much my parents tell me to put the book down to eat. My room, phone, and house is filled with books and it's all thanks to the shattering of my initial experience with them.