Memory Lane

  Five little monkeys jumping on the bed, one fell off and bumped his head. Did you catch yourself singing along? That was the first book I ever learned to read. I can remember the day that my aunt purchased the book for me. The day I learned to take a nursery rhyme and apply the words to a book with understanding of which word was which. It was exciting feeling so independent without having to constantly ask an adult “what’s this word?” or “can you read this to me?”.

Since birth I had been spending summers with my aunt, who was a kindergarten school teacher. She had also held various titles throughout the board of education. She had managed to get me registered for kindergarten at her school, where I would start in September. I spent my summer learning everything to get prepared for school. I had taken a proficiency test, which showed I was a bit advanced and was eligible to start kindergarten at as early as 4 years old. She never had children and I had become her muse. She spent her time scheduling my day as if I was being home schooled. She taught me the alphabet, sight words, Colors, Shapes, Nursery rhymes, and Numbers past 100. 

            Applying nursery rhymes to its corresponding book had become my way of learning. I would always ask her to purchase books to songs she had taught. I could sing along to the book and remember what the words were. I was taking the words I started to remember and applying them to new books that were a bit out of my age group. Soon enough I was reading books that no longer needed pictures to help me comprehend words and ideas of what the story was about.

Coney Island, the day trip my mom had decided to surprise my sister and I with. She had invited a host of cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents to attend. Since I had been so small, they weren’t many rides that I could enjoy. I remember seeing an attraction called wild woman, a woman who had lived in a snake pit. My older cousins were so excited to see her, that even I begged my mom to let me go up as well. My hands cringed as I walked up those four flights of stairs occasionally looking down at mom in somewhat nervousness. I maneuvered my way to the front, and there she was, standing there behind a huge glass with dozens of large snakes everywhere.

 Many of the children beside me banged on the glass and requested for “Wild Woman” to

move closer, and to everyone’s surprise she did. As she moved closer, I moved back. There she was facing us directly in front of the glass holding her snakes. She paused and looked side to side. She had banged back on the glass, causing the biggest commotion. Everyone started pushing and running and then it happened. I was pushed to the back of the railing and had fallen through the bars down four flights of stairs. My mom quickly picked me up and wrapped my head with her jacket to cover my head injury. After surgery at the hospital, my family was told that I wouldn’t have much of a memory, but my mother and aunt decided that wouldn’t be my fate.

            By middle school, I had won many awards like Honor roll, spelling bees, student of the month, and super reader despite my bad memory. The more I won, the more I desired to learn. While I always ended up being the youngest in my class, I watched quite a few of the older children struggle with words. Class participation was often very minimal, mostly the same student volunteering every day. I hated seeing my class mates hide when the teacher asked “Would anyone like to read next?” The embarrassment on their faces made me want to expand my vocabulary and learn all that I could. I didn’t want to become the student hiding behind my ability.

           

New Year’s Day of 2010 I had become a mom. All that I had learned from my childhood I was destined to teach my child. I had started him with nursery rhymes, alphabets, and counting to 100. Of course, Five little monkeys jumping on the bed would be the first nursery rhyme taught and book purchased. I sat back in awe watching him apply the song to the words in the book as I did years ago, I had taught my child literature, I have taught my child to teach himself.