Though it may be a very vague memory, I can still remember the day I started to learn how to write. It all started the day I attended Great Oaks Elementary School in Brooklyn, New York. I actually learned how to write around 3 or 4 years old, but I didn’t learn step by step by a real teacher My teacher, Mrs. Gibson told us that she was going to teach us all how to write. Of course that day I was very excited, being the child  that I am, I thought that writing was such a big accomplishment in life. Which it was for that specific moment. That day I remember when Mrs. Gibson first handed us the sheet of paper that had the traceable alphabet from A to Z all in capital letters. I thought it would be easy, but I barely knew how to hold the big ole pencils that they use to let us use back in those days. The first day was a struggle, but I knew that I couldn’t give up. One thing about me, I am very persistent if I do say so myself. If I really want to do something, I would put my all into doing it and try my best not to give up.

So the first day wasn’t as successful a day that I thought it would’ve been, but now we reached the second day. The second day, Mrs. Gibson was finally showing us how to hold the pencils properly. So I guess now that I look back today, maybe she was testing us to see what we knew about writing. So she started to teach us how to hold the pencil and that my made my life so much easier. Though I didn’t completely understand how to write neatly, I started to get the hang and gist of what had to be done in order for my letters to come out neat. So as the weeks passed the traceable letters started to get thinner and thinner until they disappeared and the paper became a blank sheet of paper. At this point the whole class was learning to write without any guideline to help us. They call that style free-hand writing if I remember correctly.

When Mrs. Gibson removed the traceable letters, I still had confidence in myself that I could write neatly without them. I knew I could do it. My teacher knew I could do it and when I went home to practice my parents knew I could do it. With all the encouragement and motivation that I had behind me, I knew my life was a blessing. As the days went by, my handwriting continued to improve. At the end of the school year they made a bulletin board in the school. On that bulletin board was the sheets of paper with the bests handwritten alphabet. And to believe that my paper was one of the few to make it onto that bulletin board. I was so proud of myself. Now to this day I still get compliments on how good my handwriting looks.

Honestly, in this exercise it made me realize that I learn best when being taught step by step.