In fifth grade, we had a year-long Accelerated Reader competition to see who could earn the most points. That was the year I read Little Women, Gone with the Wind, Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice. Rereading these books in high school, proved to me that I probably didn’t comprehend them as well as I thought, but they secured me the first place prize in the fifth grade. I found it comforting that I could succeed in my reading classes at least, because I still found it difficult to make it through math classes without crying.
In middle school and high school I was very involved in all things literary. I took all the creative writing classes I could, performed spoken word poetry, wrote for the school literary magazines, took the highest English courses possible, and won a scholarship and prize money for my dedication to the subject. I grew quite an ego. I came to college and realized my high school and middle school teachers had been grading my work based on content and that I had only a shaky grasp of grammar. Still, my strong preference for language arts over math and sciences led me to major in English and Journalism.
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