There are many instances that students go through as they learn to write. They have different classroom examples that occurred during their educational career that could have allowed them grow as a writer and prosper in their field of expertise. For me, there were many situations that helped me to learn what "good writing" really means. Throughout this site, you will read personal accounts of what I went through when I learned to write.
One of the first memories I have of writing would have to be when I was in Kindergarten and learned to write my first little memoir. It was not a conventional memoir because I drew pictures with words, but it was a story. That memory is listed below!!
One of the first memories I have of writing would have to be when I was in Kindergarten and learned to write my first little memoir. It was not a conventional memoir because I drew pictures with words, but it was a story. That memory is listed below!!
Mini Mouse!!
I could see the beautiful Mini Mouse looking at me every Monday morning just begging me to take her home. Her pink dress and pink shoes were a perfect silhouette for her mouse characteristics. Although Mickey Mouse was there too, I did not feel the same way about him that I did of Mini. It was that Monday that my five year old self would get to take Mini home.
The teacher looked around our colorful kindergarten classroom and told the students to get in a circle so we could draw names to see who would take Mickey Mouse home and who would take Mini mouse home. This was routine every Monday and every kid would get a look of anticipation on their faces as the teacher mixed a can of popsicle sticks with their names on it, hoping that their name was on the popsicle stick that wound up in her hand.
As the teacher called a boys name to take Mickey Mouse home, I couldn't help but feel like my chances were getting smaller of being called. I looked down at the floor thinking that today was still not my day to take her home. As I counted the different colors that formed the rainbow carpet on the floor I felt like someone whispered my name. The girl sitting next to me shook my arm and said that my name had been called to take Mini home. I felt so happy as I went to the front of the classroom to claim my week long prize, and I felt even more happy to see that other girls were jealous of my happiness.
The end of the day couldn't come quick enough as my little head looked at the clock on the wall every 10 minutes. I kept think if it would ever be time to go home. Even my friends could notice that I didn't color or talk to them as enthusiastically as usually did during the week. For me, those seconds, minutes, and hours were playing tricks in my head.
Finally I took Mini home and noticed there was a note inside her bag for me to read. This was the assignment part of our encounter. The note said that I was to document everything that Mini and I did together. that seemed really easy to do. I ate with her then I wrote it down. I played with her outside, and then i wrote it down. I slept with her in my pink and white bed, and I wrote it down the next morning. Every day i wrote down our activities together until the week passed and it was already Monday again. I was sad to go to school because I didn't want her to leave so quickly. I thought about acting like I was sick, but when my mami told me that I could stay home if Mini went with her to school, I was instantly feeling like I wasn't sick anymore. It was a miracle.
I gave Mini to to teachers and she picked a new person to take her home for the week. After everyone took either Mickey or Mini home, the teacher said we would use our notes about what we did for the week with them to write a paper about what we did using more detail. That was the first time I had been exposed to what higher grade level teachers would call memoir writing. It was difficult to put everything on the paper and explain well what Mini and I did, but I realized that it got easier to accomplish the more I thought about how much fun Mini and I had.
That first experience of writing a memoir gave me the first skills on how to do it, but it also gave me the realization that memoir writing could be fun. That was also one of the first times I realized that writing was equally fun because I could express my memories on paper and share them with other people.
The teacher looked around our colorful kindergarten classroom and told the students to get in a circle so we could draw names to see who would take Mickey Mouse home and who would take Mini mouse home. This was routine every Monday and every kid would get a look of anticipation on their faces as the teacher mixed a can of popsicle sticks with their names on it, hoping that their name was on the popsicle stick that wound up in her hand.
As the teacher called a boys name to take Mickey Mouse home, I couldn't help but feel like my chances were getting smaller of being called. I looked down at the floor thinking that today was still not my day to take her home. As I counted the different colors that formed the rainbow carpet on the floor I felt like someone whispered my name. The girl sitting next to me shook my arm and said that my name had been called to take Mini home. I felt so happy as I went to the front of the classroom to claim my week long prize, and I felt even more happy to see that other girls were jealous of my happiness.
The end of the day couldn't come quick enough as my little head looked at the clock on the wall every 10 minutes. I kept think if it would ever be time to go home. Even my friends could notice that I didn't color or talk to them as enthusiastically as usually did during the week. For me, those seconds, minutes, and hours were playing tricks in my head.
Finally I took Mini home and noticed there was a note inside her bag for me to read. This was the assignment part of our encounter. The note said that I was to document everything that Mini and I did together. that seemed really easy to do. I ate with her then I wrote it down. I played with her outside, and then i wrote it down. I slept with her in my pink and white bed, and I wrote it down the next morning. Every day i wrote down our activities together until the week passed and it was already Monday again. I was sad to go to school because I didn't want her to leave so quickly. I thought about acting like I was sick, but when my mami told me that I could stay home if Mini went with her to school, I was instantly feeling like I wasn't sick anymore. It was a miracle.
I gave Mini to to teachers and she picked a new person to take her home for the week. After everyone took either Mickey or Mini home, the teacher said we would use our notes about what we did for the week with them to write a paper about what we did using more detail. That was the first time I had been exposed to what higher grade level teachers would call memoir writing. It was difficult to put everything on the paper and explain well what Mini and I did, but I realized that it got easier to accomplish the more I thought about how much fun Mini and I had.
That first experience of writing a memoir gave me the first skills on how to do it, but it also gave me the realization that memoir writing could be fun. That was also one of the first times I realized that writing was equally fun because I could express my memories on paper and share them with other people.
Later On
In Primary School..
In Primary School..
Later on when I got to the first grade I remember when I was learning to spell new words. It was a little frustrating because I had a spelling test every week and it was hard to remember all the words from the previous weeks. I felt like 20-25 different words was a daunting task to ask of my 6 year old self. Through a lot of hard work, I managed to spell better than most of my class. My first grade teacher asked all of the students to write a holiday card of our choice to show our new vocabulary skills. I choose to write a valentines day card because I new how to spell that word. As I wrote the long word on a card, my teacher came over and scolded me. She asked me where the cheat paper was that In was looking at in order to spell that word. As she searched my belongings and in my pockets, she realized that she had been wrong about questioning me and apologized. I remember feeling really uncomfortable that she did that, but I didn't let it discourage me from learning more complicated words.
As I reached higher grade levels, I became really good at spelling words and putting them into sentences. We would have spelling tests every week, and sometimes have spelling bees. I didn't always win the spelling bees, but I usually was in the top 5 students. That made me happy because I tried my best to master the English language. Another good way of practicing words and grammar was when my teachers would tell the class to write journal entries almost every day. I liked the idea that I could express myself in writing. I also thought it was cool those times when I could write about whatever I want.
Because I learned to be creative in writing, I would many times write stories in books that were just pieces of paper stapled together. I used to remember that scene in Beauty and the Beast when Belle wrote a story for Beast and it was just pieces of paper put together to create a beautiful book. As I remembered that scene, I wrote stories for myself and for other people. That movie made me see that it is possible that people could get joy from what I write to them.
As I reached higher grade levels, I became really good at spelling words and putting them into sentences. We would have spelling tests every week, and sometimes have spelling bees. I didn't always win the spelling bees, but I usually was in the top 5 students. That made me happy because I tried my best to master the English language. Another good way of practicing words and grammar was when my teachers would tell the class to write journal entries almost every day. I liked the idea that I could express myself in writing. I also thought it was cool those times when I could write about whatever I want.
Because I learned to be creative in writing, I would many times write stories in books that were just pieces of paper stapled together. I used to remember that scene in Beauty and the Beast when Belle wrote a story for Beast and it was just pieces of paper put together to create a beautiful book. As I remembered that scene, I wrote stories for myself and for other people. That movie made me see that it is possible that people could get joy from what I write to them.
As I approached later years in primary school, I realized that one thing that was especially difficult for me to do was to write in cursive. I remember the teacher would show the class how to write each letter on the chalk board, but I could not remember how to do it a few days later. I would go home and talk to my mama about my problem with cursive and she sat down with me and told me to practice each letter at least 20 times. She used to tell me that when you write things a certain way, your hands remember to do it on their own the next time you need to write it. I didn't believe her. I just kept thinking about how my hands don't have a mind of their own. But sure enough, they did remember how to write the letters. Mama was the only person that could really get me to learn how to write cursive. I felt like the teacher was always too busy to take time to keep showing me because she was always punishing disruptive students. That class was a little cucu.