I can still recall vividly my grade eight English teacher’s voice. That one class lessons, when she had everyone in her class to stand up and read for 10 minutes out loud. I was among the best readers in class; so with no doubts, I had a chance to prove a point in this ten minutes. When my turn to read came, my legs could not stand up; my heart struck loudly and rapidly as I anticipated the teacher to ask me to read. Indeed, I could feel the fight or else flight syndrome building up in me. How simple it could be to simply stand up and dash out. Yet this was again impossible. The ten minutes reading felt like it was forever. I could only produce some words murmurs and the teacher did not like this kind of reading. Therefore, she yelled at me to get up and read out loud; this really crushed me. The students’ eyes looking at me and the teacher’s voice totally frightened me. This was one of the many times that I had to struggle reading out loud while others listened. Although I hated reading the school assignment, I knew it was a great skill and was also important for success in academics.
Waking up early every day, taking breakfast in a hurry and then rushing to school was a nightmare that went on for so many years. I remember feeling sleepy throughout the middle-class reading sessions only to jump with joy when break time bell rings. The worst feeling was the teacher's daughter missing out on the middle-class afternoon lessons. This sleepyhead that I had during the reading lessons was however not something that I could explain, but I guess seeing books in front of me really made me bored; yet reading magazines and other periodicals felt enjoyable. In fact, visiting the library to pick up current journals and novels was my thing; I could read these for hours without sleeping making sure that I exhaust the whole story.
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The school assigned a novel for the students to read throughout the year. Reading one long novel brought no joy in class. Sometimes I found myself unlucky as I had already read the book assigned for a particular year. Repeating the story increased my disinterest in reading the school assignment. Occasionally, I disliked the books idea and their genre turned me off. The books were never in accordance with my reading- choice. If only they could change the books weekly, maybe some could be interesting. The reading assignment was too much for me to stomach. In every lesson, including math lessons, time for reading was set aside. One way or another, I had to learn to overcome my fear and hatred for reading. In high school, the English teacher was much better than the one in middle-class. I think he once hated reading too. That's why he fought to draw me out and encourage me to read. He had a better teaching method of reading aloud in a chorus and then discussing it. This made reading in some way interesting and as a result, I developed a right attitude towards reading. Playing outside with friends, screen time and reading magazines, however, remained more interesting than to read school assignments. I was always in a hurry to finish up the homework and join other kids to play.
