s to find tedious.
It started when he was in primary school. I would correct his English essays, pointing out mistakes in grammar or spelling. At first, he was grateful for my help, but as he grew older, he became increasingly resistant. He would roll his eyes and sigh whenever I picked up a red pen to mark his work.
Despite his resistance, I continued to correct his English. I believed that good grammar and spelling were essential skills that would serve him well in the future. I also wanted to instill in him a love of language and an appreciation for the beauty of well-crafted sentences.
One day, after marking yet another essay, I asked him if he had any questions about the corrections I had made. He looked at me with frustration and said, "Dad, why do you always have to correct my English? It's so annoying."
I was taken aback by his words. Had I been too harsh in my corrections? Was I being too critical? But then I realized that perhaps I had been too focused on the rules of grammar and not enough on the joy of language.
So, I decided to change my approach. Instead of simply correcting his mistakes, I started to engage him in conversations about the English language. We discussed the origins of words, the nuances of meaning, and the subtleties of tone and style. We analyzed famous speeches and debated the merits of different writing styles.
Gradually, my son began to see English not as a set of rigid rules to be followed, but as a living, breathing entity that could be shaped and molded to suit his needs. He started to take pride in his ability to express himself clearly and effectively, and his essays began to improve.
Now, as he prepares to leave for college, I am proud to say that my son is an excellent writer and communicator. He has a keen eye for detail, a rich vocabulary, and a deep understanding of the power of language. And while he may still find my occasional corrections a bit tedious, he knows that they come from a place of love and a desire to help him succeed.
In the end, it wasn't the corrections that made the difference, but the conversations. It was the shared joy of exploring the English language that helped my son find his voice and become the impressive young man he is today.
It started when he was in primary school. I would correct his English essays, pointing out mistakes in grammar or spelling. At first, he was grateful for my help, but as he grew older, he became increasingly resistant. He would roll his eyes and sigh whenever I picked up a red pen to mark his work.
Despite his resistance, I continued to correct his English. I believed that good grammar and spelling were essential skills that would serve him well in the future. I also wanted to instill in him a love of language and an appreciation for the beauty of well-crafted sentences.
One day, after marking yet another essay, I asked him if he had any questions about the corrections I had made. He looked at me with frustration and said, "Dad, why do you always have to correct my English? It's so annoying."
I was taken aback by his words. Had I been too harsh in my corrections? Was I being too critical? But then I realized that perhaps I had been too focused on the rules of grammar and not enough on the joy of language.
So, I decided to change my approach. Instead of simply correcting his mistakes, I started to engage him in conversations about the English language. We discussed the origins of words, the nuances of meaning, and the subtleties of tone and style. We analyzed famous speeches and debated the merits of different writing styles.
Gradually, my son began to see English not as a set of rigid rules to be followed, but as a living, breathing entity that could be shaped and molded to suit his needs. He started to take pride in his ability to express himself clearly and effectively, and his essays began to improve.
Now, as he prepares to leave for college, I am proud to say that my son is an excellent writer and communicator. He has a keen eye for detail, a rich vocabulary, and a deep understanding of the power of language. And while he may still find my occasional corrections a bit tedious, he knows that they come from a place of love and a desire to help him succeed.
In the end, it wasn't the corrections that made the difference, but the conversations. It was the shared joy of exploring the English language that helped my son find his voice and become the impressive young man he is today.
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