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I opened my Saxophone case slowly and put together my instrument. “I hate English with a passion” I said to myself, as I walked into Mrs. She only wanted us to read the classics like Shakespeare.
I played through some songs as requested by my Jazz instructor. I pulled out the book that I wanted to read during free reading. Tolkien’s literary masterpiece “The Fellowship of the Ring” and began to read. Jackson began making her rounds around the classroom as I was reading my book. I kept on reading as she stood over me watching me turn the pages of my father’s 30 year old copy of the book.
The first time I struggled with reading I was in 9th grade.
I had always been a strong student in every area of academics.
As I got up to run away I noticed the whole class was staring at me. Finally, the bell rang out and all I heard in my head was a death toll. My fellow classmates filed out of the room and as Mrs.
Jackson came up and pulled another chair to sit down.
As I looked up at the clock I realized the time was almost upon me and I began to worry, my palms got sweaty, and my heart started racing. The tattered soft covers of the book was ripped and warn, the picture of a small green hill with a road leading down it was faded and discolored. I enjoyed it the excitement, adventure, and mystery of this new world, kept me engaged and reading on and on. Then my heart sank, she asked to see me after class. ” As we began our classroom reading of the Taming of the Shrew, I found myself imagining getting a failing grade and my parents being oh so disappointed in me.
The bell rang and as I read the title page I started to relax a little. I began to imagine myself as Aragorn, the Ranger of the North. All through class I sat there worrying, wondering what I did wrong. I was so far beside myself that I missed my turn to read. I stumbled on the words as I read them aloud for the class.