Exploring Habits with Reading and Writing

   When I think about the best writing and or reading experience, I think of trees dancing in the background; the smooth sound of water traveling in a blind creek in the distance; a warm gentle breeze blowing while I'm sitting outside swinging from a swing out in the front porch facing the sunset far in the distance; finally the camera slowly moving away from the scene widening the panorama displaying a nice little house out in the middle of nowhere, and as I become smaller and smaller the screen fades to black. 
   Of course that's not my writing or reading experience, because my life is not a movie (although sometimes I like to think it is). No, I don't have a front porch swing or live in a small little house out in the middle of nowhere. So no, my ideal or preferred reading/writing spot does not include gentle breezes, trees dancing, nor a creek. If you think about it, as a beginner reader/writer (for the sake of this blog post I will refer to a person who is trying to pick up a book and read a beginner reader/writer, not necessarily a learner trying to decode the words) this could be discouraging. Movies constantly show people reading or being inspired to write when they are out in the country or right in the middle of nature. For a long time, I thought that was the way to read or write. Thankfully Hollywood thought of people like me, and has shown numerous times in films that the best shabby sheek writers get inspired in coffee shops in New York. Well, again, I do not live in NY so I guess reading and writing is not for me.
   Although I would love to be that girl under a tree getting lost in a book or my writing, in my setting that is not possible. So, when I fell in love with reading I was shocked to realized that I enjoyed the book and had found my self lost in the pages, right in the middle of my bed...in...my...room! Crazy, I know. It is not until I found that great book that hooked me, that I realized I didn't' need nature, or a shabby coffee shop, all I needed was my comfy bed and silence. As a young reader I loved when my mom would read to me right before bed time, when I was laying down on my bed. Why did that have to change? No, my mom does not read to me any more, but the fact that I lay down right after a nice shower in my pjs on my bed din not change. Now as an adult I have two preferred spots. One: You guessed it, my bed (we just add a lamp and a flowery scented candle or that Stress Relief candle from Bath and Body works). The second? My couch, when the whole house is empty of people and full of silence with the lights off, and yes a candle going.
   No, I don't only read at my house, when I am too stressed at work I like to read there too. Although I wish I could have my bed and/or a couch, and my candles, I have to do with what I have. When at work, I find my self in my classroom's library bean bag chair, covering my self with my Star Wars blanket, reading or writing with the lights off but an open blind to allow the natural light to come in.
   My background may change, my body position may change, even my lighting may change (when I am in a road trip), but it doesn't matter because I came to a very important realization. You may say that it is the moment in the movie where the main character finally understands what the audience have known from the beginning...

I can not use the excuse of not having "the perfect" reading/writing location. Just as long as you have a great book you will soon find yourself no longer in that place, you will find that you have left this realm and entered the book world. 

   Yes, there is a favorite spot I enjoy and prefer above all others to get lost in my reading or writing, but the truth is, that if the I am really into my book, I could be in the most unpleasant of places and still get lost and get inspired.

King of the Wild Arts

     

(please excuse the damages, this book survived a flood)

(please note my wild thing laying in the back, Maxwell, my dog)

         As famous as the combinations of the realistic story line with the surrealistic images, along with the muted colors and wonderful use of line are, it may come to a surprise that I had never read this story. I've hear of the title before, and have seen countless murals, posters, and copies of the book everywhere still, I had never read the book. I know, I know, impossible! I can guarantee you that it is not that impossible to not read. To be honest, I was never drawn to the images. They looked too gloomy, and I always wondered why it had a medal on the cover, surely it had to be for the story. If you know the book well, you can imagine my surprise when I realized that the medal it won is a Caldecott (awards the illustrator for his/her work).
     I had finally put this book in the back burner and when I was to read a Caldecott winner as an assignment, I had to read Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. It is needless to say that my feelings towards the book have changed.
     I still think the illustrations are a bit gloomy, though. Max, the main character, is a very energetic and imaginative boy who gets into trouble. When in his room, he creates a whole new world where the wild things are. He is made king of the wild things, and alas he returns home for supper.

 The usage of lines is very present and help guide the reader's eyes focus on where Sendak wants us to focus. For example, when Max became the King of the wild things. The curbs of the monster along with the curbs of the hill in contrast to the straight lines in the background forces your eyes to look at Max.

The details the lines create on the monsters, make the fur realistic and the monsters themselves almost 3 dimensional. 

The lines also create movement in the water as Max is sailing. The movement the lines create bring the smell of salt and the sound of the waves crashing against the boat.



 After reading the whole book and looking at the images, I noticed that the colors were not as pale as to when we get to the scene where Max sends the monsters to bed. I realize that the muted colors of this scene, on the monsters to be exact, depict the feeling Max is experiencing, sadness.

 Last but not least, I noticed that the images get larger and larger as the story progresses. The enlargement of the images, I suppose are correlated with Max's feelings as well. The images enlarge as Max goes to where the wild things are, and begin to reduce at the time where Max sends the monsters to sleep and he begins to miss home.

 

 


     For so long, I ignored this book. For so long, I pushed this book further down in my reading list. For so long, I did exactly what I tell my kids not do; judge a book by its cover. I will not do the same mistake twice. Now, I have a recent example of why not to judge a book by its cover only; Also, how sometimes a book we don't think we'll like, becomes one of our favorites.

My Slice of Life

        Blurting out answers, five kids asking me the exact same question, three others begging to go to the restroom, the sharpener goes off, and my "buddy" (as all my coworkers refer to him as) begins to mess with his nearby neighbor. All the craziness fades out as I walk out across the hall to get some fresh air and my daily dose of teacher survival snack, chocolate. I walked back in to my room; I could see the kids still talking and some even arguing but all I heard was the wrapper opening in my hands. As my hand reached for my mouth, everything seemed to move in slow motion. I closed my eyes and for a split second, I was not at work anymore. As I chewed, I could see me swinging in a lone swing in the middle of nowhere hanging from one tall tree. The breeze swiftly blowing my hair back. The smooth milk chocolate covering the light and fluffy chocolate moose, added marigolds to my empty field. The silkiness traveling to my stomach wrapped me in a light silk dress. The next bite brought the bright sun dancing to the beat of birds cheerful tweets. I took another bite, and then another, and yet another, and soon my sun filled marigold field became a cold tile floor with poster plastered walls. My ears were loaded with the song of moaning kids, pencils moving across papers, and sharpeners. As I was longing for a second chocolate bar, I opened my eyes to see my kids radiating familiar glow. The golden sun rays that danced in my field were now dancing on their faces as they frantically wrote their paper with big smiles and thought, this is my happy place.

Sometimes the First Time is not the First...

 

   Exhausted, preoccupied, sleepy, and stressed; all words to describe your typical college student. When you add your typical college student profile to an 8 am Children's Lit class, you have a student that misses out on some of the joys of the class. If I regret something about my Children's Lit class is not being able to fully pay attention during the read out louds my professor would do. One of the books she read during class, stuck with me, even when half of the time I was asleep in the back of the room and the other half focusing on not falling asleep. The little I heard of the actual story combined with the discussion she lead made me appreciate the book. I finally got the opportunity to read the book to my class this year and I was speechless. Luckily my students had plenty to say and they lead the book discussion.
     It's one thing to hear the book and another to actually read it. Although I had an idea of the plot and knew the ending it does not compare to really reading it. Really reading a book, using all of your senses, focusing on the words, the images, the plot, the connections, the vocabulary, the characters, every component of the book, opens a whole new world. You, the reader really enter the book and you feel what the characters are feeling; you see what the characters are seeing; you understand what they are going through; you apply the lessons they learned to your life. In short, they come to life through you.
      The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo is now one of my ultimate favorite books. The characters are so relatable, yes you can relate to a china rabbit (who knew?!). It is no wonder why this book is a Boston Globe-Horn Book Award Winner, A New York Times Book Review Notable Book of the Year, and a Christopher Award Winner. At the beginning the story seems a predictable one, but as Edward journeys through his emotions, each stop he makes is one that you wish will be his last. The imagery, the play on words, and the irony found in this book captivates you and puts into focus your own emotions. The twists and turns keep you ant the edge of your seat and has you wondering how could it end. When you finally reach the end of Edward's journey you are now wishing it wasn't over.
      Love is a very complicated thing, but through Edward and his different (very different) owners you learn the simplicity that is love. Sounds very idealistic but is far from it. I learned that love is complicated, and full of with ups and downs as well as disappointment and hurt. Something all readers can relate to, because we have all experience a broken heart, from loosing someONE we love, to loosing someTHING we love. Like the baby doll tells Edward, "If you have no intention of loving or being loved, then the whole journey is pointless." Edward just like me, the reader, must learn to keep his heart open and not give up, no matter how painful the previous love might have been.

I Challenge you to read!

     "I am sorry, I just don't like reading." I swear I thought her eyes were going to pop out as she heard my words. I can tell she was counting to ten, then she smiled the cheesiest smile ever and replied, "We shall see about that, young lady." She had a very peculiar laugh and it will forever resonate in my head, especially when I reply the same phrase to my students when they make the same claim I did.

      6th grade, the beginning of middle school, the start of a new journey, the introduction and dry run of the most difficult and crucial time of your life, high school. In 6th grade I was very focused on the arts, performing arts. The only reading I enjoyed was the pieces that involved music notes. Also during this time I began to focus on the future and could not wait to start the engineering program in high school so I began to excel in my math courses earning me a spot in the AP and GT classes. Reading, I did only when I had to. I would read the required chapters or even used sparknotes.com. When I confessed to my reading teacher I did not enjoy reading, she did something no other reading teacher had ever done, she changed my mind. 

      It all started with a challenge, and not one to raise my grade either, just a challenge to force me to enjoy reading. She took the time to question me, get to know me and and recommended me a book to read. Before she handed me the book, she had my parents sign a form given her permission to give me the book. My parents of course didn't know English and I did not want to translate the whole letter so I just told them that their signature was to give the teacher permission to give me a book to read. Obviously, they signed it with no more questions. I still remember her face the day I turned the letter in, she was so excited to give me the book, but before she did that we had "the talk" (as she called it). She explained that I was to not talk to my classmates about the book and that the only reason she gave it to me is because she knew I was mature enough. I remember reading the cover, "The Other Boleyn Girl by Phillipa Gregory." Big deal I though, looking at the cover image, "it's a princess, I can't believe she thinks I'm going to like this." She was wrong, I loved it! I don't know what it was, the beginning maybe, starting out with an execution; or maybe the controversy; or the fact that the author was unmaking royalty; but the truth is, I couldn't put it down. 

        From that point on I read books like The Cay by Theodore Taylor, The Dragon of Lonely Island by Rebecca Pupp, The Uglies series by Scott Westerfeld, Twilight by Stephanie Myer, and many more! I was so thankful for the extra time she dedicated me because she got me to love reading. That set the stage for high school where I actually enjoyed the books we had to read for class. Without her help, I don't think I would have survived reading The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand and not because it was a bad book simply because I would have given up by just looking at the size of it! 

        First year of teaching, I spent a lot money and Scholastic points building a classroom library with variety. I make reading challenges that involve reading x amount of pages, or x amount of books. I make my kids read at least three books that a friend recommended them, and three others that they don't think they would like. I talk about the books I have read with a big cheesy smile on. I dance and show excitement when a book order has arrived. I make sure to read books to them every single day. I even share with them the twitter, intagram and face book post of different children's authors. My hope is that at least every year I find my stubborn Cristina and change her mind just as Mrs.Beufford changed mine. 

One Word

When I think about my literacy journey, one word comes to my mind: inspire. I know it sounds as a cliche and it may be expected but inspire really narrows down my life as a reader.
The beauty of inspiration is that it's not a one way thing. Inspiration can be received and passed along. Let me explain. For example: Someone was inspired to write a story. They wrote the story. A little girl read the story and was inspired her self. She became a teacher. As a teacher she was challenged with a very difficult and hard headed student who hated reading. The teacher now drew out of her inspiration from stories and passed some to me. Although she proved me wrong, I won. I got inspired and fell in love with reading. My first year teaching I was challenged by not one but 39 students who disliked reading. 6 of those 39, flat out told me, they hated reading and will always hate reading. I had to draw out the inspiration from my literature experience and inspire them. Like my 6th grade teacher, I succeed. Now they are inspiring others, and as for me, I am looking to inspire my new 40 hard headed book hating students this year.
Inspiration found in books you can loose yourself in; inspiration from stories that teach you to see beyond what is; inspiration that draws you to write. As a reader I find inspiration in the books I read. As a teacher my inspiration comes from seeing that one student who has always hated reading, beg me for some more reading time.

From the Beginning

As a reading teacher and now seeking my MEd Reading Specialist, you would think that I have loved reading since childhood. Truth be told, I would like nothing more than to have some inspiring, funny story to share about the books I read when I was a child; or to tell you about the times I would sneak off in my tree house and just read; or even tell you that I was known as the child with a book in hand. Sorry to disappoint.
Truth be told, I hated reading when I was younger. I was not the child that eagerly awaited the class discussions, the book clubs, library days, etc. My least favorite time of the school day was my Language Arts (LA) class. Oh, and when my teacher would announce "popcorn" reading (no, not when we seat eating popcorn as the teacher reads to us, I know I was dispirited too).
You may be wondering how someone who dislikes reading became a reading teacher...
Well, a flame was lighted when my mom would read stories to us as kids. My mom didn't know much English so, her pronunciation made for some very interesting interpretations of the stories, for example our (my siblings and I) favorite story was Buzz and Booty (reality: Buzz and Woody from Toy Story). Reading nights with my mom were my favorite and for a while I enjoyed and loved reading. It was all fin and games until I became my mom.
First grade. Terrifying already and add first year in the country learning the language, traumatizing. I became my mom, messing up the words, reading really slow, and not fully understanding. My teacher Mrs.Riesgo did her best to teach me the language but she couldn't stop the other students making fun. My fire began to diminish.
That went on through my childhood, and just when I thought my fire would finally die out, Mrs. Beuford, my 6th grade reading teacher fired me up. My loved for reading has only grown since then, I think my career choice is a living proof of that. Your next question might be, why are you an elementary teacher? It seems that most teachers go back to teach in the time period that they themselves were inspired. In a way, I did just that. I went back to the time I was negatively affected, so that I can inspire students at an earlier age and, hopefully, create readers at younger ages.