#2 Like Colleen, my family did and does not value reading like I do. It is interesting to me that my parents produced two teachers. Growing up reading was seen as being lazy. There was always work to do, cooking, cleaning, gardening, canning,stacking firewood. But oddly, I don't remember learning to read. My first memory with letters involves kindergarten. I was the last one to copy the alphabet of a chart. I remember my twin sister urging me to work faster and finish. Strangely, that seem to set a pattern for decades of our lives. I also remember complaining to my mother about my last name being too long. Rogalewski has ten letters to remember, and it took a long time to form the letters. My mother says we both wanted to become Smiths! Remember reading groups? As I look back with my adult eye, I have figured out that I was not in the top reading group. Our groups were all bird names, red birds, blue birds. I don't remember my group's name. Intuitively, I mean all I had to do was look around, I knew I was in the lowest group. Maybe we were the blackbirds. In fourth grade, intervention came. I know pulling students out of class to remediate has a negative reputation today, but it saved me. (I must have been struggling in all areas because it was the same time my mother put me in a gymnastics class. I figure I lacked coordination, and this was a teacher's recommendation. (I'll blame it on being a premie. ) I loved the attention I got during the pull out time. I vaguely remember going to some tiny office (maybe a renovated closet) and playing some kind of board game and earning prizes of some sort for reading books. I read ten and graduated. Somehow there was no shame in it for me. I don't know who that teacher or para pro was, but I'd love to thank her now. Ironically, I became the English major in college. I loved to read, maybe not voraciously, but stories could take me to lands I had traveled and to people I had never met.