My Warm Journey Toward Reading Literacy

One snowy morning, a woman with short black hair and a brown knitted sweater was walking on the white blinding carpet of snow while bearing a red blanket in her arms. “Where...are we... going?” the red blanket said with twinkling eyes. “To see a wonderland, Jeong ah!” she responded with a white breath. After a while, the red blanket stopped swaying and then turned slowly toward a bright white world. “Jeong ah, that white and fluffy wool cover is snow. Like your pompom hat.” she whispered. “And, next to it is...”, she continued while pointing at the silvery shiny plate. “...ice.” “Can you see something streaming between them?” she asked her red blanket. “Water!”  The voice was filled with happiness and rang softly in the ears of the red blanket. Two eyes in the blanket looked at the scenery which the woman in a brown sweater was pointing with her finger — small, thin, and chapped- beyond the white cross bar before her. The streaming water under their feet through the big chunk of ice made a clear and gentle sound. Then, she slowly echoed those words: “Sno…w, i...ce, wa…ter.'' Almost fifty years have flown by, and I still do not love the frozen winter season; however, the red blanket and the snug voice in my childhood hug me warmly like sitting by a fireplace in the depth of winter. The first step to my journey toward reading began from the fireplace. 

“Once upon a time, there was a girl...” Most lovely tales in my childhood began with this line- with only rare exceptions. Every book I read brought adventurous experiences to me-flying in the night sky with a little boy, exploring forests with dwarfs, and feeling sorrow for a girl vanishing into the air. The thrilling moment of turning over the first page of a storybook still makes my hearts beat faster. Each character in the tales became the closest friends, unfortunately, I could not read many books all the time, and I missed my dear friends.

Although my parents gave countless love to me, I had to wear my two big brothers’ shirts and sweaters until age fifteen. Before attending school, I spent most of my time with my parents amid the sounds of scissoring and sewing machines. Those sounds sometimes wrapped me like a lullaby or sometimes like a blanket. Lauren Fencil in her narrative, “A Christmas Story”, reminisces about her grandmother who presented an unforgettable Christmas for her for seven years. How the books she sent made Lauren walk on air, how much inspiration she got from her, and how wonderful a sponsor she was. Finally, those moments had Lauren herself dreaming of being a sponsor like her grandmother to her kids. I think that someone, who supports you with unconditional love and encourages you, would make you as happy as all the presents and the stockings on the Christmas tree- and maybe even happier. 

Unlike her, for me, there was no sponsor and any series of books giving inspiration and letting me walk as if in the air. Yet, the most reliable supporters encouraged me no less. For instance, when I was reading an advertisement in the newspaper for a brand-new television, or an article which President Park reaped a remarkable achievement in his official overseas trip, I often realized that my parents were proud of me. Their eyes and ears were following me in wonderment, as if they were gazing at a baby who just began to babble. At the same time, I felt very proud of myself. 

My parents went through the Japanese occupation and the Korean War. They had to fight for daily bread despite the end of the war and continued to work until they became grandparents. Radio, TV, and newspapers played a big role as a friend, a teacher, and a school for my parents. In my memory, the newspapers have never had empty spaces, and a pen held in father's right hand was glued to the paper as strong as his iron and scissors. Gradually, over time, the diligence of my father lived on in my eyes, and he naturally became the role model who I wanted to follow. I drew countless lines, circles, and squares on the newspapers as my father did. These things became various words over time, and more and more words piled up. All names in the world, which were composed of the combination of consonants and vowels, showed a mysterious world as much as the figures in the stories which I love. They enlarged my imagination and curiosity.

In the article “Why Poor Children Are More Likely to Become Poor Readers: The School Years” by Jennifer Buckingham, Kevin Wheldall, and Robyn Beaman-Wheldall, they highlighted the importance of home learning environments. They said that after-school experiences and activities affected the acquisition of children's reading abilities. Their reading ability develops by their parents’ attention and motivation rather than by parents’ direct support of homework. In addition, the interaction and relationship between parents and children brought positive impacts to their reading ability and academic achievement beyond parents’ educational levels and income (194). There were not enough conditions for my learning, but my parents’ passion invited me and led me to a growing literacy. Consequently, their passion was handed on to me. In general, sponsors for literacy learning can be found at hand. They might or might not be individuals, as Deborah Brandt, an author of “Sponsors of Literacy,” says (167-168). For me, newspapers, various tales, and my parents all played a role as my friendly sponsors. With them, my reading journey obviously stretched its spectrum over a wide sea. 

On that snowy day with my mother, I cannot remember whether it was the first snow or not; however, it was engraved in my memory as an unforgettable day. Since then, snow, ice, and water have been keys opening the door of my reading journey. The path took a special direction through my father as a teacher and supporter. In addition, many stories from books and newspapers called to me. They played a role as my dearest companions and milestones on the literacy journey. As time passed, each of them was deeply seated in me as sponsors who encouraged and led me to the reading literacy. To this day, they still affect me wonderfully.

Works Cited

Brandt, Deborah. “Sponsors of Literacy.” College Composition and Communication, Vol. 49, 

No. 2, National Council of Teachers of English, May 1998, pp. 165-185.

Buckingham, Jennifer, Kevin Wheldall, Robyn Beaman-Wheldall. “Why poor children are more 

likely to become poor readers: The school years”, Australian Journal of Education, Vol. 57, No. 3, 2013, pp. 190-213.

Fencil, Lauren. “A Christmas Story.” Composition & Culture: A digital textbook, edited by 

Emily Wiersewski, Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License, 2021.