Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Literacy Narrative

Erin Molello
English101
Literacy Narrative
           
            I remember thinking that these days were going to be the best days of my life, I was in elementary school and didn’t have a worry in the world. Two recesses a day, a fun lunch with all your friends, creative art activities, and best of all fun writing prompts. I use to love to write in elementary school, it was an outlet for me, a time where I could be creative and really have creative control over what I was writing. At that time writing wasn’t about a grade or proving you could interpret the correct theme of a story, it was about getting comfortable with putting your thoughts, feelings, or imaginary ideas down on paper and finding a new way to communicate those ideas with others. 
            My elementary school was filled with laughter, fun, and creativity everywhere. Walking down the bright yellow hallways you felt as if you could accomplish anything. Art projects were posted around the school everywhere, ones that were done in class and even ones created at home could be brought in a hung up for everyone to see. It gave you a sense of accomplishment and pride to walk down the hallway and see your work of art hanging on the wall. It is true that you feel small in elementary school, the chairs are tiny, the desk and tables are as well, and even the structure of the building is obviously built for smaller human beings. But despite the obvious feeling of feeling small, I never felt insignificant walking through the hallways of that school.
            In 5th grade right around Halloween time we had an assignment to write a scary story, no other criteria, it could be however short, or in my case long as you wished it to be. When I heard about this assignment I almost screamed out loud with excitement “I love scary stories, I love Halloween, and I love writing! This is the perfect assignment for me!” I thought to myself.
We had two weeks to write and make a cover for our story in order to be ready to share them with our classmates on Halloween. Mine was written about a group of friends who went to a mansion for a Halloween party and found it to be haunted when their mom went missing and later found to be taken by something in the mansion. One week passed and 14 pages into my scary story 5th grade me had decided it would be better as a chapter book.
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to finish my chapter book in the timeframe given by my teacher I sat down with her to explain how I believed I couldn’t tell my story correctly or as well as I could if I had more time. She read what I already had and saw enough potential in me to sign off on those first 14 pages as my assignment and then allowed me to freely work on it. I could have stopped if I wanted to, but I was dedicated. Writing a scary story during Halloween made sense but my decision carried out my writing two months later; walking through the doors the first day back from winter break I set my finished chapter book on my teacher’s desk. It was written as you would expect a 5th grader to write, the grammar wasn’t the best, my spelling was not up to par, and even some of my thoughts were not portrayed and connected correctly. With saying that, to this day I still believe that 5th grade assignment has been my best work due to my dedication, inspiration, and my love for writing at the time.
            Throughout elementary school I succeeded because I had passion for the assignment I was given. I was always told I would succeed, that I was a bright student and as long as I continued to put my heart into my writing or whatever it was that I was doing I would never struggle to accomplish my goals. What I wasn’t told is how hard it is to put your heart into an assignment you have no interest in or passion for, which is what I came to realize in middle school. The transition from elementary school to middle school was easy for me at first. A bigger school with new people didn’t scare me, nor did having 6 different classes all with a different teachers and classmates. I enjoyed the thought of it, of being older, smarter, that I had more to offer. I had a new place to prove that I had the skills to succeed. I enjoyed walking down the halls starring at the empty walls that were no longer showboating childish artwork, and most of all I enjoyed starring at the big picture of the panther mascot.
            I started middle school placed into a year higher math class that I tested into but besides that I was in the standard 6th grade classes; that lasted for about two months. It was obvious I wasn’t being challenged in my English class being two months into the school year and already having 115% in the class, I as well as my parents and teacher new I needed a change. It was then I was transferred out of standard English and social studies and was put into the agate program at Poulsbo Middle School which is when everything changed.
            I was taught to let your passion for a topic drive you, to put your heart into everything you did including school work, but how do you put your heart into a topic you have no interest in, no passion for? This is what I struggled with in agate. My teacher no longer wanted my own creative thoughts, she wanted answers based on my interpretations of what the theme of the story was, or the different motifs. But even then my own interpretations weren’t good enough, they had to be the correct ones. Analyzing the correct theme and motifs of a story became my life. No passion for what I was writing, just writing for a grade, so I struggled. Many times I found myself wishing to be back in elementary school, the days where everything was easier, but I wanted to live up to the expectations everyone, including myself set for me. I had to learn how to rewire how I went about writing, I had to allow my passion to come from wanting to get an A on a paper verses having a desire to write about the topic I was given.

            Yes, I no longer had a passion for writing, but I did have a passion for getting good grades and accomplishing what everyone told me I could. So I learned how to write differently, informatively. I spent after school hours with my teacher, asked other students, and even family members for extra help. I was determined to get a grasp on this different type of writing I was not use to. And eventually, after getting many graded papers back that I was not proud of, I got a book report back on Frankenstein. A book that at first I could barely read due to the intense vocabulary, a book that I’d spend hours re-reading parts in order to understand what was being said, but most of all a book I wrote a report on that lead me to the first grade on a written assignment that I was proud of. It wasn’t perfect but it showed me that I was learning, growing, and was able to understand a concept that at one point in time I could not begin to wrap my head around.

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