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Christian Arroyave
Professor Derohanessian
English 115
September 22, 2014
The Women Who Taught Me How To Read
In my upbringing, like any other kid, I hated the thought of reading. I cant say school
just wasnt for me, because I could still see the difference between those who just didnt give a
single care, and myself, who cared enough to at least be on time everyday and try hard, even
though most effort involved running hard in physical ed. The issue wasnt school but rather
reading. From homework to free time I didnt even consider reading as a way to pass time. My
neighbor Erick and I would cause havoc when we came back from school. Despite giving
homework a solid fifteen minutes, my friend and I would only look forward to running outside
and playing until sundown. Despite all of my mischief and mayhem, three important women kept
me moving along in terms of the appreciation I now have for the literary. These women: my
mom, my 3rd grade teacher, and my high school sweetheart, all helped me during different
moments in my life and where influential people that encouraged me to pick up a book.
Growing up, I never developed any literacy habits like reading a book or writing in a
journal. These habits only got worse the older I grew, and the older I grew, the more I neglected
to dedicate any valuable time to schoolwork. At six we were playing on the jungle gym all day,
at eight we were out and about riding our bikes around the block, at the age of ten we had
upgraded to skate boards. At the age of thirteen, after a chipped tooth and a broken elbow from
skating, I was dedicating all my time to basketball. Aside from all of the activities we engulfed
ourselves in, we neglected picking up a single book. Either responsible or irresponsible, whether

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it was playing baseball in our neighbors backyard, or turning an old R.V into our no girls
allowed boys club, we ignored the possibility of being inside for a change and flipping through
some reading pages. Even though I strayed away from reading and anything related to
schoolwork, I always had someone to center me and influence me in all the right ways.
First came my mother. A mom of two, she always hoped for something great when it
came to her kids. A certified teacher just like her mom, my mom hoped my sister and I worked
on being a professional in whatever subject matter we liked. Despite her long hours and late
dinners, my mom had patience and energy at the end of the day to help me stay on track in
school. She did anything she could to make sure she was a part of my day. As any mother would,
my mom always tried to get her son to read more often. After every day, my mother and I would
sit together with a big fat book at the edge of the bed. The book was called 365 bedtime stories
and I will forever remember the front cover of that big blue book. This book had short stories
with a positive message for kids. There were stories much like that of the Tortoise and the Hare,
one story for every day of the year. When I was of age and able to read, she had me read instead,
every night. Even though I strayed away from school my mom made sure she didnt, in popular
terms raise no fool, by having me read at least a short story every night. A wise-ass by day and
a narrator by night, this kid was being forced to read by his mother, but that was my reality. Even
though I can't remember most of the stories, or I can't recall most character from those three
hundred and sixty five short stories, I can say my mother tried hard to instill in me a positive
attitude towards reading.
Eventually, I outgrew the short stories. After growing just a bit older I met Ms. Johnson,
possibly the most influential teacher Ive ever had. Ms. Johnson was my third and fourth-grade

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teacher. She was a tall skinny woman with long autumn hair. She decorated a classroom as if she
was trying to get rid of the white color on the walls. I remember the basketball poster assuring
me that I would miss one hundred percent of the shots I never took. She was beloved by her
students, and yes beloved by me. Prior to meeting her I was starting to slip academically, but just
like Mike Rose,published author and a Los Angeles native, spoke about his teacher when he said
Jack MacFarland couldn't have come into my life at a better time I felt Ms. Johnson, who would
surely enough re-engage me in school and help me develop the right attitude, couldnt of come
into my life at a better time. She was witty and resourceful when it came to teaching. She had
many tricks up her sleeve to secretly teach us when our guard was down. She would use her
artistic skills to draw us mini comics about the three stages of matter. I remember learning about
the pilgrims and the thirteen colonies in the form of a song. I can even recall the many times we
spent doing last nights homework during recess, talking about the Judy Blumes tales of a
fourth-grade nothing chapter I should have read the night before. On the days I would do my
homework, she would spend some time making sure I understood what I was reading. Ms.
Johnson had reading time every day where we would all sit down crisscrossed while she read to
us. She would start us off on a chapter, and it was up to us to find out how it ended. Thanks to
Ms. Johnson, I read my first chapter book from start to finish. To this day, Charlottes Web by
E.B. White is the most satisfactory book Ive ever read. Finalizing this book validated my efforts
and showed me I could finish a book if I set my mind to it.
After the passing of a few grades, I found myself back in the middle of the crowd, which
just happened to be the crowd that didnt like doing too much homework but rather go out on
school nights. With high school came a whole new spectrum of things to do other than actual
school work. Other than books I was forced to look through or books assigned at school, I wasn't

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paying much attention to any words written down on paper by some author. Instead, I started
going out and socializing; day-by-day I began to be more independent and more about my own
business. I was a freshman in high school and I was starting to shy away from the important,
academics. The first semester of high school was empirical evidence that I was wasting time;
time I didn't yet know was essential. Despite my low-grade turnout of the first semester of high
school, I hadn't begun to think of a way to correct my study habits. The problem wasn't the
material; the problem was the actual doing of the work. I was a smart lazy ass and I was proud of
it. It seemed like a failing grade was inevitable despite what I knew or what I though I knew.
I was starting to lose a handle on the situation, and then our paths crossed. Diana Valeria
didn't know me but I knew who she was. She was about my height. She had long brown hair and
a way about her walk by which I was instantly hooked. I knew who she was because of my
friend. They had apparently been flirtatious during the summer, but summer was long over. My
friend had moved on and according to him, she and I would get along. When we hung out, it
seemed seamless. We had plenty in common but what we both enjoyed about each other was the
way we went about to irritate each other on purpose. She was annoying, stubborn, and even sassy
at times but she had many good qualities, qualities that would end up rubbing off on me. She was
a reader.
I had grown up watching movies while apparently she had grown up reading them and
playing them out in her head. She always had a book in hand and I was always trying to talk to
her, naturally I would ask about her book to spark conversation. She was always trying to get me
to read. Whether it was the in class reading or her own personal collection of books, she tried
finding a story that would appeal to me. First came the Twilight Series. She swore it had fighting

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and murder, but even I knew the ongoing battle between team Edward and team Jacob. She had
sworn to me that if I read the book she would go on a movie date with me, but I had to read the
book. The premier day came and I had read maybe twenty pages off that God-awful book. Our
date didn't happen, but we were still very well under each other's skin. We both dated and went
out, but I couldn't ignore the fact that we never had that movie date. I had realized I had missed
my chance because of a book I never read. Then came my second chance. It just so happened
that Diana was in the middle of reading the Hunger Games series. The latest movie was about a
month away meaning I had a month to show her I was serious.
Despite not finishing the book in time, we where constantly hanging out together given
the fact that we where both stuck on books. I got the movie date not because I read, but because
reading was now our common ground. Diana didn't teach me how to read, nor did she make me
fall in love with a fictional book series, but she did introduce me to a certain type of book I
actually enjoyed. Because of Diana, I found that books that turned into movies always sparked
my interest. I enjoyed the timetable before the movie came out, always giving me a set day to
read the book by. I liked knowing the story but not completely. I enjoyed reading for the details
and talking about how different the movies where. Just that year I read and saw movies like The
Perks of Being a Wallflower and The Great Gatsby, and she was there during all of the reading
processes.
Not to say men didn't encourage me to read, but these three women where a vital part of
me. They hadn't taught me how to read or write, because that I learned in school, but they had
taught me how to enjoy different types of readings and books that have stayed with me to this
day. I could have easily never read a chapter book if it wasn't for Ms. Johnsons persistence

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during recess, or my hopes of going out with Diana during high school, or even my moms
efforts to read with me after a long work day. If these women hadn't crossed my path the way
they did, I'd still be able to read, but I wouldn't appreciate the moments as much. Moments like
that of my mom tucking me in after our short story of the day, moments like that of 3rd grade
when I never went out for recess, or moments during school where I knew the only way to get
closer to that girl, was through books. Reading was important and these three women let me
know that.

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Works Cited
Rose, Mike. Lives on the Boundary: A Moving Account of the Struggles and Achievements of
America's Educationally Unprepared. New York: Penguin, 2005. Print.