Overcoming Literacy Obstacles

As far back as I can remember, my mother would read poems and stories to me before bed. Every night a new swirl of imagery would sweep me into sleep. My relationship with literacy had begun. Further on in my life my mother would take me to the local library to read books for hours on end, and the best part was I chose the books. Getting a choice in the book I want to read changes the experience, and that is the reason I did not enjoy the experience of reading assigned books. Though it was not a wonderful time period, I buckled-down and got my work done. The true reason I buckled-down was my mom, I wanted to make her proud. I wanted to give it my best efforts because that is all she has ever asked of me, so I was not about to let her down.

Falling into my memories, I see my mother holding a Robert Frost book full of poems. One of my favorite bed-time books to listen to, every night the image of snow falling all around drifted me to sleep. Not only did we have a Robert Frost poetry book, but we had a huge book full of different nursery rhymes and short fairy tales. On a Saturday morning I would listen to my mother’s soft voice read the rhyming tales. Before long, I wanted to read the books for myself. In a short time my mother began to take me to the library where I had a wide range of stories to choose from.

Going to the library opened up a new door. My mother allowed me to choose books I wanted to read, if the books were within my age range and reading level. Whether it was Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak or Fuzzy Yellow Ducklings by Matthew Van Fleet, I was given an option. Dozens of books and genres came into the light as I grew older. By the fourth grade all my friends had read J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter book series, but I had not. Although I love reading, especially at that age, I still struggled with books of that caliber. I was unable to understand some words, nor could read at a fast pace. I became determined to fulfill the task of reading the Harry Potter books and I did. Except I did not fully complete my task because I only read half of the series.The reasoning for my half-hearted attempt is the new found excitement over Suzanne Collins Hunger Games Trilogy. Naturally, I moved on to the Hunger Games Trilogy, but again I found a more interesting book series in middle school, The Watersong Series by Amanda Hocking. The Hunger Games books were left in the dust. 

Moving into middle school, a wonderful time in a person's life, which is a lie.  It was not just the mean girls and the stinky boys, but the teachers making me read  that made it a horrid experience. Yes,  I still had a choice in what I read, but I now had designated reading times that were graded. English classes started out alright, but then I was assigned my first in-class book, Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli. Did Stargirl ruin books for me? I thought it was going to. I despise(d) that book; it was the first book that I had no interest in reading. The plot of the book was very strange and not easy to follow, causing me to lose all interest entirely. Things changed for me later on in the year. I was assigned the book Peak by Roland Smith, a story about a teenage boy’s adventure of climbing Mount Everest. Finally a book that spiked my interest, and I was shown the nicer side to assigned books.

Later in high school, I had the privilege of reading wonderful books from To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee to Sir Gawain and the Green Knight by Gawain. Did I fully read these books in the time I was told? No. I was still struggling with reading books in a timely manner, but I also had four hour dance classes every night that stepped in the way of reading time. I struggled to take time away from other activities or homework which were more appealing to me. Though the annoying task of reading assignments was still a problem, I shortly found a new issue: essays. I found myself scrambling-up rough introductions and thesis statements without an explanation as to how to write these items. I quickly decided writing an essay is far worse than reading any assigned book for class. Cue the downfall of my sanity for the rest of high school. 

A continuation of the melancholic discussion of essays. As we've discussed in Composition and Culture, I have never been told that it's all right to write badly. It has been set in my brain that I need to have everything in order before my rough draft even begins. I needed to write the perfect introduction before I can continue my essay. There was no time for me to just brain blast onto a piece of paper, anything and everything I think about while trying to write.  Well I should have been listening to the wise words of Anne Lamott, “Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere. Start by getting something ﹣anything﹣ down on paper” (855).  Lamott's technique of getting down what needs to be thrown from your brain would have been the best advice for me. If I would have known these tips my papers would not have been as rushed, other than a few editing details at the last minute. What would my writing and reading be like without these obstacles in my life? Struggling to understand certain words, keeping up with reading paces in class, forcing myself to read my assigned books, and overcoming thesis statements and introduction paragraphs. If I had not addressed these issues I would have never pushed myself to correct them. Overcoming my struggles gave me a sense of self-respect that pushed me to achieve all my academic goals. Not only was it my self-discipline that helped me gain my achievements, but my mothers encouragement and help.  She has been my strong hold throughout my entire existence, without her I would have crumbled and failed. All that is left to say is a huge thank you to my mother, Dawn Dietsch.

Work Cited 

Lamott, Anne. “Shitty First Drafts.” Writing About Writing: A College Reader, edited by Elizabeth Wardle, Doug Downs, Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2017, p. 855.