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Erica Cline
Dr. George
English 1010
September 13, 2015
Journey to Learning
I can remember my Kindergarten classmates all sitting around me on the big rug. We
would sit Indian style, as our teachers called it. With our legs crossed and folded neatly in front
of us, looking directly forward at our teacher. It was one of my favorite times of the day; it was
time to sing our Alphabet song. I remember humming and singing the parts of the song I could
remember in my head all day, every day, until I could sing it perfectly. I remember being so
proud that I had learned it within a few days, because I could sing as loud as possible and show
my classmates that I knew the whole song. This small but crucial memory is where my love for
English came into play. I loved when we had English assignments in class because I knew I
would score well on them. Spelling was a great strength of mine; I could sound out and spell
nearly every word thrown at me. Math was always very difficult for me, but English I excelled
in. I just got it, it clicked for me in a way math never would.
In my elementary school years there wasnt a time where my test scores didnt show how
well I loved English. If the question ever arose of what my favorite subject in school was the
answer always came easy, English! I remember sitting in my bedroom as a child and picking up a
book. At the time I had just started first grade and we were being taught to sound out words and
read small sentences. I looked at the first page and I remember it giving me a sentence with the
word cat in it. I attempted to sound out the words and realized I could read it on my own. I
rushed out of my bedroom and flew down the hall to find my mom. Screaming with joy that I

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could read! I showed my mom what I had read and still remember how happy and proud I was
that I had taken what I had learned at school and read something all by myself. I dont really
remember my moms reaction to it, for some reason, all I remember was how excited and proud I
felt of myself. From that day forward I was reading at the top rate in my class and remember
even being partnered up with students who were struggling to grasp the reading concept later on
in the first grade year. I almost feel as though my love for reading came from the fact that it
made me feel superior to others who struggled with it. It gave me something to be proud of;
something that continually boosted my confidence as a child. Every time I learned something
new I could go to school and show off to my classmates that I knew it. Like how I knew the
alphabet song when they didnt, or had learned to read so quickly when others were struggling.
English gave me the confidence and self esteem which I loved as a child. The only thing I was
lacking in English was my penmanship. I just couldnt seem to get that down, but meeting
Bernice would change all of that for me. It would teach me to love writing as well.
I can remember being about eight years old and taking bike rides with my mom and
siblings. There were six of us kids, and to give us something to do my mom would take us older
four siblings on bike rides to explore the desert we lived in. We lived on a long dirt road with
nothing but desert surrounding us. We had only eight neighbors in our small neighborhood, and
we were all very spread out from each other. Nothing else was near us except a huge Rock
Quarry a few miles away and acres of open desert. One day my mom said we were going to take
a bike road towards the main road that ran through our small town. We decided that we would
explore the area on the other side of the main road, because we had always stayed on our side of
the highway and wanted to take a new bike ride. It was so exciting to get to cross the big road on
my bike. I remember staying close to my mom once we crossed as I was in unknown territory

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and was afraid of getting lost. We started off on a new dirt road once we crossed the highway. We
hadnt gone down very far when we saw a purple house. We were all fascinated and loved the
house because of the unique color. On the front fence they had grapes growing, we asked our
mom if we could stop and have some. She said hesitantly, I guess, but dont take too many. We
dont know whose they are, and I dont know if they will mind. We all got off our bikes and
quickly took a few grapes to eat. As we were enjoying our grapes an old man wearing suspenders
with a T-shirt and a big belly poking out, with his long gray hair pulled back in a pony tail,
approached us from inside the yard. My mom nervously said hello and hoped he didnt mind us
taking a few grapes. He cheerfully said we could have all we wanted and asked where we lived.
My mother explained where our house was and they began to converse while we enjoyed all the
grapes we could eat. He then invited us all to come in and meet his wife and their dogs. I
remember walking into the yard and being bombarded by eight little wiener dogs. We were in
dog heaven! I had never seen so many cute, small, dogs in one place. We quickly became the
best of friends with, who we learned were Bernice and Martin. They played a big role in our
childhood and we came to love them dearly.
Shortly after meeting Bernice and Martin, Bernice informed my mother that she tutored
children for extra income, as they were retired. It gave her something to do with her time and
she loved teaching. She offered to tutor all of us older children who were in school at the time for
free. My mother gladly accepted her offer and my three sisters and I began to take turns going to
Bernice and Martins (as we called it) each day of the week. We would get one on one tutoring
from Bernice for a few hours after school one day a week. I dont remember much of what we
did during the tutoring, besides the fact that she was very strict. Bernice had been a nun for many
years before meeting her husband Martin. So this made her a very strict, but loving woman. I

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remember her firm voice telling me when I was making a mistake in the way I wrote my letters. I
remember tracing and writing letters a lot. She was a perfectionist and expected no less from us.
When I started tutoring with Bernice my penmanship was pretty bad, but after only a few weeks
I was writing beautifully. Bernice taught me little tricks in writing and made me practice,
practice, practice, my penmanship until it was perfect. I still remember her low firm voice
saying, What do we begin a sentence with? I would then add a capitol letter. Followed by her
asking, Now what do we end our sentence with? She showed me how to space my letters
correctly and how to write a proper sentence. If we made too many mistakes she would
sometimes get frustrated, take a deep breath and calmly say, We have been over this many times
Erica. It was always the reminder I needed to stay on track with what I had learned from her.
We tutored with her for years, and when we had to start learning cursive Bernice was a
huge help in excelling in that as well. I remember finding a love in cursive once she helped me to
conquer and feel confident in writing it. After mastering it I would always practice my cursive
during class on scrap paper. I just loved how beautiful my cursive looked when it was written
out. If it hadnt have been for Bernice and the time she took to teach me these writing and
literacy skills, I dont think I would have the love for English that I have today. I am so grateful
for Bernice and the time and love she dedicated to making sure I stayed current with my grades
and studies in school. Looking back, I can see how much she truly cared for me, by the time she
spent teaching me valuable lessons and skills to help me succeed. Bernice tutored me all the way
through elementary, but Martin her husband became very ill when I got into Middle school and
sadly passed away. Bernice moved back east to be with her family and the tutoring ended there.
To this day, we never learned of what happened to Bernice. I know by now she has passed away
but I cant help wonder what happened once she left California all those years ago. I wished so

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badly she could have stayed and helped me through my high school years, as those years proved
difficult for me, even in English.
I remember getting my first report card my freshman year in High School and opening it
before I got home. I looked at each grade in devastation, how could my grades be so terrible? I
never struggled with my grades in school. Why was high school so different? The work load was
unlike any I had ever experienced before. The middle school I went to was similar to elementary.
We only had two different classes and the homework load was very light between the two
teachers, who basically split the teachings down the middle. High school was so foreign to me. A
different teacher for each class meant homework for each subject, every night, and that meant a
lot of homework. My free time and childhood went out the window. The transition was one of
the most difficult things I have ever had to adjust to. Growing up My parents werent very strict
on making sure homework was done or turned in, so I wasnt used to turning in homework on
time, or turning in any at all. The fact that I didnt turn in homework, never affected my overall
grades before high school. But in high school I learned very quickly that skipping out on
homework was not an option if I planned to receive passing grades or to graduate period. The
only thing that I had ever been taught about managing homework or school work in general was
from Bernice. I was so grateful for that, because without it I wouldnt have known where to start.
I can remember seeing my English grade and feeling so upset by what I saw. The teachers
seemed to have expectations I just couldnt meet.
I had an English teacher my freshman year named Mrs. Cobb. She was short and plump
with a bright cherry red face and a nose that was even redder. She wore glasses and had her short
blonde hair feathered back like a style straight out of the 80s. I remember sitting in her class just
irritated and frustrated at the fact that I seemed so lost in a subject I had always excelled in. Mrs.

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Cobb expected homework to be done nice and neat and turned in on time. No late work was
accepted at all! One day, I decided I would stay behind after class and explain to her my
frustrations. Ill never forget how understanding she became and how helpful she was after that
day. She gave me a paper with all my missing assignments and even offered to help me after
school with whatever I didnt understand. Mrs. Cobb and I became very close once I started
staying after school. Soon, I was back to scoring the grades I was used to. She was loving, kind,
and she cared about my education. She reminded me of my very dear friend Bernice. Mrs. Cobb
was the first person to show me how to write a detailed essay with all the right components. She
gave me the confidence and the writing skills I needed to get through high school, and never fall
behind in my writing again.
That was almost 15 years ago and I have forgotten so much of what she taught me. I
realize that with this English class I am now taking. But, the basic fundamentals these great
teachers took the time to show me will never be forgotten. English is, and will always remain a
strong part of my life. There are so many good memories that are tied to learning English for me.
It gives me pleasure to use the skills and lessons I was taught all those years ago by the people
who still mean so much to me.