Narrative Essay About Reading and Writing In My Life

The relationship between reading, writing, and I have never existed. From as far as I remember, I always had a difficult time when it came to showing my academic abilities on paper. It all started in elementary school. During conference meetings, teachers reported my high levels in mathematics and low levels in reading and writing. I was not meeting up to the standards that were expected of a student in the third grade. As if it wasn’t already hard enough for a child raised by two immigrant parents who only knew how to speak Spanish at the time. I never got enough practice speaking the English language as a child unless I was at school. Speaking Spanish was my comfort zone as my environment at home revolved around the language. 

My low test scores in these areas started affecting my academic achievements. I recall one night overhearing the discussion between my mother and father about signing me up for personal one-on-one tutoring classes between the ages of 8-10. I needed the extra help; that was made very clear. Instead of failure encouraging me to do better, it lowered my self-esteem. I frequently compared myself to my other classmates and other kids who lived on the same block as me. While all my friends played outside after school, I was expected to attend tutoring for 2 hours daily. This caused me to gain intense grief and wonder why I was different from the others in this area. 

In my junior year of high school, I decided to enroll in the AP Capstone Program. This is a two-year college program that focuses on teaching students: how to write research papers at a college level, do independent analysis, collaborate in a team, and develop communication skills. AP classes are constructed as an opportunity to obtain college credit as a high school student. Students are taught the criteria over the entire academic school year and given a 2-4 hour test in the month of May. This program was unique as it required students to submit a well-developed research paper.  

I was extremely nervous and often questioned whether I had made the right choice in joining. When it came to the subject, I had built a lot of self-doubts which made me question my abilities. Would I be able to pass the class? Or let alone keep up? If I had to be completely honest, I despised the class at first. I struggled to transition from a regular English class to a college-level course. 

I vividly remember the emotions that spread throughout my body the moment I walked into that class on the first day of school. Being surrounded by AP and honor students in some way made me feel so out of place. I recall being the only Latina in that class surrounded by  Asian American students. Not only did I feel like I didn’t belong academically but also racially. 

Our first lesson was to identify the definition of beauty based on our own opinion, experiences, and background. My AP Seminar teacher, Mrs. Alba, allowed us to form and express our own constructive beliefs without judgment. I found myself expressing my ideas and thoughts verbally. At first, I was confused about the purpose behind the assignment. Now I look back and understand that she was preparing us to develop our ideas from verbal to textual. Compared to practical subjects such as Mathematics, English allows freedom for personal connection and thought. The beauty of writing is that you can bend, break, and glue it all back together if an association within the topic exists. Mrs. Alba emphasized the importance of discussing our self opinions to help us become more skilled writers. 

There was a point in time throughout that academic school year where I had built up so much stress, anxiety, and anger. The feeling of my rapid heart rate and sweating palms increased every time I walked in Room 203. The fear of  not knowing the answer when called on constantly circled through my mind like a mouse on a spinning wheel. I acknowledged the fact that I was nowhere near as academically prepared when it came to writing and analyzing contextual texts. Meaning that I had to work twice as long and hard compared to my classmates. And so I did. I went home every day after school, completed my homework, and read the chapter lessons. I would take notes on the information, and make good use of it by applying and connecting it to my everyday life. 

The month of May had finally arrived. The month all AP students had eagerly been waiting for, the submission deadline. That year I chose to write a research paper on the nutritional factors that affect the future outcomes of a child in school. Towards the middle of summer that year, I had received an email from the college board informing me that my final scores were available on their website. I remember that night, before checking my score, reflecting on the school year. All the challenges, tears, and emotions that had brought out the worst and best of me. It was important to recognize that the score itself did not define me. It didn’t matter if I had passed, or in other words, “meet the college-level expectations.” I know my worth, and nothing was going to take away the satisfaction I felt for trying. 

After reflecting for 10 minutes, I finally dared to check my score. I had obtained a 3 out of 5, which meant that I successfully passed. Nothing else mattered at that moment, but the feeling of self-contentment and accomplishment. Taking that class itself helped me grow and develop into the student I am today. It helped me acknowledge that I could accomplish anything I set my mind and energy into. To this day, I often find myself wondering where I would be if I hadn’t decided to take that class. Nothing is impossible as long as you try hard and never give up.