Jasmine Walker Mrs. Hynum English Comp 101 17 December 2015 Literacy Narrative I can remember like it was yesterday that I had a passion to read. Learning new words and reading new books excited me as a teen. It all started when I was in ninth grade. I wasn’t your typical fourteen-year old child reading children library books. I loved reading the young adult books. My favorite author was Ellen Hopkins. She wrote most of her novels about teens struggling with substance, abuse, feelings, sexuality, etc. I didn’t go through the problems like the teens in the books, but the stories made me think a whole new perspective in the teen world. I felt like the young adult books gave me meaning and the hard, cold truth about the world so that’s why I liked
Deborah Brandt (1998) wrote “Sponsors of Literacy”, a journal where she explained her findings of the research she has done on how different people across the nation learned to read and write, born between 1900, and 1980 (p. 167). She interviewed many people that had varying forms of their literacy skills, whether it was from being poor, being rich, or just being in the wrong spot at the wrong time.
A narrative is the revealing effect of a story from the first person point of view, which describes an experience, story or a set of events. In the story, the narrator tries to engage the audience to make the story further compelling. The narrator’s job is to take a point and a stance to display the significant point of his or her’s view.
Nilson, Allen Pace & Kenneth L. Donelson. “Stages of Literary Appreciation” in Literature for Today’s Young Adults. Longman, 2001: pp. 35-42. [PDF in Blackboard]
I began to read not out of entertainment but out of curiosity, for in each new book I discovered an element of real life. It is possible that I will learn more about society through literature than I ever will through personal experience. Having lived a safe, relatively sheltered life for only seventeen years, I don’t have much to offer in regards to worldly wisdom. Reading has opened doors to situations I will never encounter myself, giving me a better understanding of others and their situations. Through books, I’ve escaped from slavery, been tried for murder, and lived through the Cambodian genocide. I’ve been an immigrant, permanently disabled, and faced World War II death camps. Without books, I would be a significantly more close-minded person. My perception of the world has been more significantly impacted by the experiences I've gained through literature than those I've gained
I have very few recollections of my early years and the exact age I was able to read and write. Some of my earliest memories are vague on the topic of my literacy. However, I do remember small memories, such as, learning how to write my name in cursive, winning prizes for reading, and crying over every assigned high school essay. Over the last twelve years my literacy grew rapidly with the help of teachers, large school libraries, my family, and so on. There is always room for my literacy skills to grow, but my family’s help and positive attitude towards my education, the school systems I have been a part of, and the horrible required essays from high school helped obtain the level, skills, habits, and processes that I use as part of my literacy
When I Glanced inside the torn cardboard box that had “Family room” I discovered one of my mom’s old book named Petals on the Wind written by V. C. Andrews. While she was putting her already read books on the empty oak bookshelf, I asked her “would I be able to have this book?” Despite that it was a book above my reading level, she generally smiled and agreed. Over the years while we sat there watching television, my eyes would wonder like an antiquarian over to the old and new novels. Having my imagination running wild and wondering what type of adventures or mysteries lay inside. My family was firmly about education, with a father that was completing up his Masters and a mother who was continually reading, they both pushed us in the same direction.
Throughout my childhood, the idea of having a college education was greatly stressed. As a result, it was my duty as the next generational child, to excel in my studies and achieve a life of prosperity and success. Learning became the basic foundation of my growth. Therefore, my youth was overtaken by many hours spent reading and writing what was known to be correct "Standard" English. I first found this to be a great shortcoming, but as I grew older, I began to realize the many rewards acquired by having the ability to be literate.
It was finally time to head to gym class in the afternoon where we were instructed to take part of a physical test. This test would determine how fit or unfit we are based on a system that was implemented by those with greater authority, on which concluded that it was on such a scale society should be based on. So it was that afternoon that I preformed the tasks that were instructed on to me and my peers. I was able to completed them to my utmost potential which can be consider to be something not so distinctive. It was on this day that I was mocked by one my peers of my lack of ability to preform the instructed physical tasks, that was a no brainer to such a fit individual like himself. It
Life is like a tree, it grows and develops branches and leaves that come and go as we progress. The environments we live in determine which branches wither and fade and which prosper. Every branch holds some form of learned literacy from the end of the roots to the trunk and highest branch. Literacy encompasses many aspects of life.
The story of my history as a writer is a very long one. My writing has come full circle. I have changed very much throughout the years, both as I grew older and as I discovered more aspects of my own personality. The growth that I see when I look back is incredible, and it all seems to revolve around my emotions. I have always been a very emotional girl who feels things keenly. All of my truly memorable writing, looking back, has come from experiences that struck a chord with my developing self. This assignment has opened my eyes, despite my initial difficulty in writing it. When I was asked to write down my earliest memory of writing, at first I drew a blank. All of a sudden, it became very clear to me, probably because it had some childhood trauma associated with it.
I felt angry, confused, and scared. I didn’t know who I could trust or where I could feel safe-- feelings that are overwhelming and utterly terrifying for a second grader. Post-incident, everyday events became obstacles that terrified me. Taking a shower or staying home alone seemed insurmountable. It was difficult to distract myself from the aftermath when the effects were so infiltrated within my daily life. I found comfort in school, which I considered a safe place. I discovered my love for words and became a voracious reader, where I rapidly progressed to reading levels far beyond that of my peers. That year I began the Harry Potter series, which transported me to worlds far different than my own. I could relate to the characters, many of whom had been hurt in one way or another. The Jeanne Geiger Crisis Center even held a Harry Potter camp throughout February break where children who had underwent similar pasts could attend. I identified with the characters in these novels, which not only contributed to my love for reading, but opened the gates to a lifelong quest for
As a child, I have always been fond of reading books. My mother would read to me every single night before I went to bed and sometimes throughout the day. It was the most exciting time of the day when she would open the cabinet, with what seemed to be hundreds of feet tall, of endless books to choose from. When she read to me, I wanted nothing more than to read just like her. Together, we worked on reading every chance we had. Eventually I got better at reading alone and could not put a book down. Instead of playing outside with my brothers during the Summer, I would stay inside in complete silence and just read. I remember going to the library with my mom on Saturdays, and staying the entire day. I looked forward to it each and every week.
Throughout my childhood I was never very good at reading. It was something I always struggled with and I grew to not like reading because of this. As a child my mom and dad would read books to me before I went to bed and I always enjoyed looking at the pictures and listening. Then, as I got older my mom would have me begin to read with her out loud. I did not like this because I was not a good reader and I would get so frustrated. During this time I would struggle greatly with reading the pages fluently, I also would mix up some of the letters at times. I also struggled with comprehension, as I got older. My mom would make me read the Junie B. Jones books by myself and then I would have to tell her what happened. Most
If one were to look at my varied reading habits, they would be struck by the diversity and over all unusualness of my mind’s library. I hardly remember the plot of the first book I read, but it was called Lonesome Dove. It wasn’t the actual first book I read, but I don’t really count the McGregor Readers from kindergarten. I read it in first grade because of my Grandmother’s fascination in the T.V. mini-series that was playing during the time. I wanted to be able to talk to her about it so I went to the public library that weekend and picked up a copy. Well, I actually didn’t pick it up, it was too heavy. It took me over two and a half months to read, but with the help of a dictionary and my grandma, I finally read it from cover to cover. I can’t really say that I understood it, because I don’t recall what it was about. But I do remember that it was quite an ordeal. Since then I have read many books. I enjoy fiction the best, especially those that are based on society, but have a small twist that leads to an interesting story. Some of the stories that I remember best from that early time in my life are Tales from Wayside Elementary School, Hatchet, The Godfather, and The Giver. I think that Hatchet, by Gary Paulsen, is the only book that I’ve read more than once. I liked the situation that Brian was put into, lost in the wilderness, with nothing more to fend for himself with than his mind and a trusty hatchet. The adversity he faces and his undying drive are what fascinated me most. Since that time my reading habits have grown into a different style. I have usually only read what was assigned to me during the school year because that was all I had time to do, but I have always strived to put forth extra effort. For example: last year for English 3 AP we had to read an excerpt from Benjamin Franklin’s Autobiography. Although that we only had to read a small bit, I checked the entire book from the college library and read it all. Although the way that Franklin rambled on and on about his “Franklin Planner” was somewhat boring, the way he describe his life was pure poetry.
My parents instilled a passion for reading in me even as a toddler; years later, an excellent,