52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks 2024: Week 10 (LANGUAGE)
I was a late reader.
I remember sitting on the the couch side-by-side with my mom turning the pages of the Dick & Jane readers.
She pointed to a word saying SPOT, and I repeated it. She turned the page, pointed to a word, and asked me what it was. I had no idea what the word was. She turned the page back, I said SPOT immediately - I knew that word on that page. She turned the page, pointed to the word, and I had no idea. After shouting SPOT she threw the book across the room, and we both cried.
When I was in grade 3 I can remember my mom crying on the phone while talking to my teacher saying "what do you mean you can't teach her to read - that's your job".
That feeling of being an absolute failure is deep seated in my memory.
The shame of not being able to do what others did effortlessly was painful.
My younger brother was an early reader. He was reading to me for years.
I grew up knowing he was the smart one, and yet we were close.
I was born in Quebec. I spoke French before English having learned it from tv & my friends. My Mom didn't speak French, and would delight in telling the story of having to take me to the landlord for translations when I would have a temper tantrum trying to tell her something.
By the age of 3 I was fully bilingual. My mom would place me on the floor in front of the tv so I could translate her television shows for her while dad was at work.
When I was 4 1/2 we moved to Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
By the time I started kindergarten I no longer spoke French.
No one in my home or social circle spoke French, and my entire world was English.
It was only a few years ago that I had an epiphany about my late reading.
Sesame Street in French was my early literacy learning.
My pathways were set for French, and I went to English school with no supports in place.
By grade 4 I could read, but my understanding of what I was reading was non-existent.
I received no joy from reading.
The summer I was going into grade 5 I was slogging through an Archie comic when I laughed.
With shock I realized it was funny, and I went back to re-read all my Archies.
Next I read The Diary of Anne Frank.
That summer I became a reader. I read every book we had in my home, and then discovered the school library.
By the following summer I discovered the public library, and my mom was shouting at me to get my nose out of my book & do my chores.
In grade 7 I became a volunteer in our school library.
As I continued to be an avid reader throughout my teens and early adulthood the school shame stayed with me.
It was in college that I began to get high grades, and little-by-little my shame of being a later reader began to heal.
Today I work in a public library, and have turned that shame into pride.
I share my story of being a late reader with many of my customers who are worried about their youngster's reading. The story always begins with 'I was a later reader' and ends with - 'And now I work in the public library'. For many children learning to read develops on their own timeline.
If I could tell that little girl one thing - it would be to relax & know your new pathways are building. You will be a reader!
A few years ago my husband and I were on vacation in Mexico. We went to the market and I was searching through a large counter of tshirts. On the other side of the table 2 ladies were also searching. One asked her friend if she could see a particular colour and style of shirt, and before her friend could answer I held one up that matched her request. They both looked at me surprised, and commented I understood French.
This is why I search -
Cause ...
You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family you know!
***Any errors are my own. Please send me any updates or corrections via the comments at the bottom of this blog post***
Photos:
Personal
Links:
Amy Johnson Crow, 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Challenge
https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/
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