Reflective Essay: My Journey To A Writing Center

Developing the love I have for English is one that has continuously grown, and will continue to grow throughout my life. English and I started out as close friends when I was young. As a child every night before bed I choose a book off of my shelf and climbed under the covers and my mother read to me. I remember listening to the stories while carefully examining the pictures before she flipped the page. When she went to work I still skimmed the pictures and retold the story the best I could recall. Eventually I memorized the words and read along with her. As time went on I continued to adore my mother’s reading. It seemed like she was always curled up with a book in front of the fireplace. I admired her, and more than anything I wanted to be just like her. Once I was old enough to read on my own I still would still share my most recent thoughts and ideas with her about my latest book. Reading is a bond that my mother and I have always shared. Looking back on it now I realize that she used reading as an escape from her hectic life, like I learned to do, too. Most of my family read a lot. At my grandmother’s house she used to catch me curled up in my grandfather’s chair with a classic Winnie the Pooh book she grew up with. For a while I did not enjoy sharing reading with others the same way I did with my mother. I thought if I had that bond with someone else than ours would become lesser. Until the time my little sister, Georgia, was born I had never shared the bond of reading with someone else. My mother lost time in her day with a new child in the house, so I lost our reading time together. Initially I was devastated, but I improvised. If my mother did not have time to read to me, I would find time to read to my new little sister. Georgia was only a few months old when I started reading to her. She often fell asleep, but I did not mind. I would read and read until I grew tired. Some nights my older brother and sister would join in, and my love for English truly flourished. Learning to love reading with and without my mother is a distinct memory of mine, and it has shaped me to be the reader and writer I am today. In primary school I was always so eager for silent reading time. I loved walking down the library aisles choosing which book would be next to take me on another adventure. My desire to read thrived when I was in Mrs. Moffitt’s second grade class. Reading was suddenly trendy among my peers. One day my Mrs. Moffitt announced that there was going to be an at home read-a-thon over the weekend. The challenge was to read as many pages as you could in the short two day span, and the top three students would be rewarded with lunch. Going home that night I was anxious but determined. That Friday night consisted reading in the living room until it was past my bedtime. When I woke up the next morning there was no stopping me from grabbing the book next to …show more content…
What one professor might consider an “A” paper may be considered a “C+” paper to a different set of eyes. Also, they think that mandating that everyone takes the dreaded writing 150 class will make everyone excellent writers. This is not true. Grand Valley has excellent resources that will aid you through writing papers. The writing center is one of them. Even though I go to the writing center occasionally I still feel as if it does not help me become a stronger writer. Mechanics and grammar are typically the least of my worries, and that is what they have always focused on with me. Content in a paper is important. Organization is imperative. I always read my papers aloud to help make corrections. Constant work goes into improving the craft of an individual’s writing. I continuously remind myself that it will take time, patience, and a lot of effort to become a better writer. Yet, these are issues that I continue to struggle with in my writing, but I hope to improve as time goes