My first book

The first book I read, 'Fun with Dick and Jane' was a series written in the 1930s and it rose to popularity in the 1950s.  My school used it long after other schools had moved on to more modern works but the area was poor and we couldn't afford anything better.  My classmates and I didn't know that at the time.  All we knew were the words on the page as we struggled to translate them into words we already knew in our heads.

See Dick.
See Jane.
See Spot Run.
Run Spot Run.

It was a basic form of learning but I struggled mightily at first.  The teaching method my teacher choose for this book was a reading circle.  Each kid took turns trying to read a three word page and once they finished the next kid would tackle the following page.  It's been many years since but I can still remember the anxiety I felt as it grew closer to my turn.  I was too young to understand that this panicked feeling hindered my learning though it didn't really matter.  Even now I still blush uncontrollably.when speaking in public.  It is part of who I am.  

One other thing my teacher did was to split us into groups based on her evaluation of our ability.  She probably did this to spare our feelings so that kids that struggled wouldn't have to watch the kids that did better.  She put me in the B reading group and all my friends were in the A reading group.  I must have protested because other than the memory of the general terror I felt at reading in front of the group I remember one thing: she told me that I'd always struggle to be a good reader.

Kids are often told they are little angels and I think this was the first time I was told that I might not be able to get everything I wanted in life.  I didn't want to believe it.  I told my mom who promptly yelled at the teacher but I took it a step further.  I decided I was going to show this teacher that she was wrong.  I was a stubborn little kid (and a stubborn adult if I'm honest with myself).

When anyone asked me what I wanted for Christmas or my Birthday I asked for books.  One grandmother answered my request and bought me a subscription to the 'I Can Read' series that delivered one book per month for much of my early childhood.  She also spent a year driving past her normal store to one that would give you one encyclopedia book for free if you bought enough groceries.  I was too young to understand just how much I would come to value those later in life but I do remember my happiness as the bookshelf my parents had bought for our living room slowly filled from A to Z.  

I read everything I could find and sometimes I found it necessary to fake reading things I didn't understand as I liked the attention I got from reading advanced books in front of adults.  Despite that hubris, my reading skill improved far beyond other kids my age. When we took the standardized tests in 4th grade to determine our learning progress I remember testing at an 8th grade reading level.  Up to that point I'd always thought I was stupid and predictably my thoughts returned to my 1st grade teacher.  I didn't have the courage to approach her directly but I had beaten the words that had prompted my reading passion.  Later in life I realized I probably misunderstood her words and meaning.  In fact she probably would have been thrilled to know about my progress and her part in inspiring me.  Either way, her words kickstarted my learning using the power of books .

My parents divorced by the time I had gotten the test results and by that time I was no longer close to my paternal grandmother that had bought so much of my personal library.  That gap never closed and I regret never taking the time before she died to thank her for her part in making me who I am today.

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