ARGUMENTATIVE ESSAY BY: Sabrina Cruz
ABOUT THIS POEM
Introduction by Prof. Dan Ryan
We tend to hide when we write. It's easy to find facts, data points, and quotes to back up our ideas. It's much harder to draw on our own raw, personal experience, to force ourselves to relive the most emotional moment of our lives. We place a protective layer over it.
This is particularly true in a freshman Composition class. Ask any English professor.
In her essay, excerpted here, Sabrina draws on her professional experience as a teacher, as well as quotes from early childhood education experts, to make her point. But what makes her writing pop is the way she uses narrative to not only get you, her reader, to buy into her argument, but to make you care about it deep in your gut.
You'll "see," in real time, her son learn to read; later, you'll "see" her student learn how to write as well. You won't be able to forget them. Mission accomplished, Sabrina.
By the first day of kindergarten, some children are already reading simple books. Others do not even know their alphabet.
This gap doesn’t magically appear in the classroom. It begins years earlier, at home.
I worked in Bushwick as a paraprofessional/teacher’s assistant. I have seen what happens when that foundation is missing. The gaps I’ve witnessed in older students usually trace back to the skills they should have learned in elementary school. Many sixth through eighth grade students struggled across all subjects.
These were not incapable children. Many were bright, creative, and curious. However, their foundational skills were weak, making every subject more difficult. Teachers were trying to repair gaps that formed way before students ever entered their classrooms.
I have seen firsthand how teaching simple lessons to little kids throughout your day can shape long-term academic outcomes.
By the time my son was two-and-a-half, he had started spotting familiar words everywhere—on cereal boxes, traffic signs, food labels, and storefronts.
It happened naturally, not because we drilled flashcards or completed worksheets, but because language was woven into our everyday life.
I narrated my day, labeled what we saw, and repeated words in conversation.
While folding laundry, we sorted colors and counted socks in pairs.
At the grocery store, he searched for items that began with certain letters. He turned errands into small literacy games.
It looked effortless, but it was built on repetition, rhythm. Those daily interactions did more than teach him sight words—they built a foundation of confidence.
One afternoon, sitting on the living room floor with his feet tucked underneath him, he began reading lines from Chicka Chicka Boom Boom independently.
His eyes widened when he realized he was doing it on his own.
Now he reads everything. (The other day, he pointed at the TV and started naming the apps. “Netflix … Max … Peacock … Starz.” It was like he was scrolling through the menu himself.) Once he realized words are everywhere, nothing escaped him.
One expert who supports learning through everyday experiences is Fred Rogers, the creator and host of the children’s television show Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, which aired on PBS starting in 1968 and ran for more than three decades. Rogers was also an educator who studied early childhood development and worked with child development specialists about how kids learn best. He believed that learning happens naturally when children feel supported and engaged in their everyday environment.
In his 1995 book You Are Special: Words of Wisdom from America’s Most Beloved Neighbor, Rogers discussed the importance of play and everyday experiences in children’s learning. Rogers writes,
“Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning. But for children, play is serious learning.”
My son learned to recognize words through normal daily interactions, rather than formal lessons, showing how powerful natural learning can be. When children are surrounded by language and small, meaningful learning moments, they develop confidence and skills that make school feel possible, that learning is something joyful and part of everyday life.
Without that foundation, even bright, capable kids can struggle and start to doubt themselves.
I think about one student in particular, a bright eighth grader who loved science experiments but froze whenever she was asked to read aloud. In guided reading groups, she struggled to identify sight words most of her peers had mastered years earlier. When we practiced phonics patterns, she often guessed instead of sounding words out.
I also noticed when letters appeared in a different font, she did not recognize them as the same symbols. If the style changed, she no longer saw the letter as familiar.
Instead of reading words, she copied them the way someone might copy a drawing—carefully tracing shapes without understanding the sounds they represented. She had memorized appearances but had never fully developed foundational decoding skills.
I remember kneeling beside her desk one afternoon, pointing to a simple sentence, “The dog ran fast,” and watching frustration wash over her face as she struggled through each word.
Over time, her difficulty with reading began to spill into other areas.
She stopped raising her hand.
She mocked classmates who struggled, deflecting the spotlight from herself before anyone could notice her insecurity. It was a shield.
What stood out most, however, was her growth once she received consistent support. Through repetition, phonics instruction, and patient one-on-one guidance, the symbols on the page began to make sense. The same student who once copied letters like artwork eventually decoded them with confidence. By the time she graduated eighth grade, she could read independently.
Early gaps do not determine a child’s future, but they do make the journey harder. My student’ story reinforced my belief that education does not begin in a classroom; it begins wherever an adult decides to teach.
This matters because we often expect schools to fix gaps that already exist before a child even enters the classroom.
If children are expected to succeed in school, the groundwork must begin at home, where parents serve as the first teachers and shape their child’s academic path through reading, conversation, play, and everyday routines.
Parents need guidance and support to turn daily routines into opportunities for learning, and communities can help by providing simple tools and encouragement. Together, parents and educators can turn ordinary moments into lessons that ignite confidence, fuel curiosity, and shape a child’s future forever.
