By Maimouna Sissoko
As humans, we all have something that brings us comfort and joy. For me, that’s reading. However, that wasn’t always the case. Walking into high school and reading at a fifth-grade level made me ashamed. It felt like my mouth was sealed with duct tape, preventing me from getting the words out. Why was reading such a hassle for me? My attention span regarding English was extremely low. I was fidgeting with my fingers, distracting my classmates, and letting my mind wander elsewhere. When teachers picked me to read aloud in class or singled me out, the fear in my eyes made everything feel like time was moving backward. As it was difficult for me to read at school, reading at home felt the same. Reading was never prioritized in my house; it was hard to balance home life and reading. Growing up in a Malian family made it difficult to directly ask for help. Ultimately, this made an extra 30 minutes of reading useless to me. The obligation of reading felt like another chore instead of an enjoyment. Hatred progressively grew within me the more words I saw printed on paper.
I come from a complex family, in which my parents have older sons but require the daughters to do all the housework and more. My eldest sister works a lot, leaving many household responsibilities to me, and I just could not find the joy in doing both. My parents did not receive an education, so it was harder for them to understand the importance of reading, and even harder for me to explain it to them. This created a growing resentment towards the role I was in. But it only took one thing to help open my eyes.
With two months left of ninth grade, we began a new book called “Persepolis”. Another book added to my collection of hatred for reading, but it took that one voice to break the cycle I was forced to be in. As my ninth-grade teacher, Ms. Carter, was reading this book, the context intrigued me. The book highlights a young girl experiencing the Islamic Revolution in Iran and explores the turmoil she was facing. For some odd reason, for the first time, I found myself captivated by the words written. Despite the struggles this young girl went through, she remained determined to find her course, depicting the power within her. It inspired me to not give in to what I was struggling with, but to fight to understand and improve myself. That was all I could do.
This book allowed me to see that I am the only person who can help myself, and with that, I did. Finally, after finishing this book, I started reading similar books. I had never thought the contexts of “Persepolis” would be my new profound enjoyment of reading.
Reading transformed from a burden into an adventure and an escape, and I discovered the joy I had long thought was out of reach. I felt a sense of happiness as I read. It was what was needed to improve not only my English but also my confidence. I learned the importance of creating and maintaining boundaries and learning to indulge in what makes me happy. I learned the importance of patience with myself and to give grace. Because of the circumstances, I learned the importance of being resilient and finding new ways to improve my interests.
Maimouna is attending Hunter College in the fall of 2025 to pursue Public Health.
