When One Door Closes, Another Opens

Like most of my fellow peers, I began my own literacy journey at a young age. I sat amongst my classmates at age five, circled together on carpet squares. I merely stared as the words fell off my teacher’s tongue in a variety of rhythms. Stories of princesses, dragons, fairies, and other supernatural beings alike circled my brain from sunrise to sunset. I often questioned where these stories began; how were these vivid images able to stay in my mind for so long after only hearing basic descriptions of a “far away land”? These ideas had fascinated me, and because of them even my Barbies had their own storylines. I created intricate scenarios in my brain, hoarded thoughts for plots and played them out day to day.

Before I was in high school, I was writing fanfiction. I took those once repressed thoughts from my childhood and I let them fly into words on a page. I wrote various short stories that were full of teenage angst and unrequited love, although none of those situations were relative to my own personal existence. I was lonely, and I desired to feel wanted. My keyboard and pencil kept me company during these solitary hours, and I always turned to writing in my time of need. I did not write from experience, though; I wrote for fun. I wrote about what or who I liked, or I made up situations that I wished I had encountered and jotted them down. I believe my envy of those who were truly happy became the instigator for many of my stories. In writing these pieces, however, I never had an end in sight. I was never able to continue a story, and many plots went unfinished. Perhaps my lack of creativity caused the outcome of my writings, though, as I grew older my literary motivation diminished almost completely.

When I entered high school at age fourteen, I loved to read. Although I loved to read, I hated being forced to read. This was a game-changer in my literacy journey. The moment I was assigned books to read and analyze over my summer break, I dreaded picking one up. We were forced to read lectures, essays, classic novels, and a countless amount of other literary works. This continued for four years straight and only furthered my disinterest with not only reading, but writing as well. My stories from my adolescence stayed unfinished, as I gained a true apathy for writing. Writing had no longer alleviated my stress, but only added to it and began to feel involuntary. When I was fifteen, my sophomore English teacher ruined the concept of English class for me, and I gained a strong abhorrence for the subject. Her pointless projects, such as translating Tennyson’s “Idylls of the King” into modern English, infuriated me. These circumstances made my remaining writing classes difficult for me and I often found myself staring at a blank screen, straining to put words together to form a well-written argument. My lack of motivation stemmed both from my mental health at the time, in addition to having spite towards the teachers I felt stunted my literary career. Luckily, thanks to positive feedback and proper education during my senior year of high school, I rediscovered my love for writing; however, I still struggle with finding motivation to read to this day. Such events in my teenage years have caused me to lose a portion of my connection with literacy.

When I was thirteen and losing my interest for reading, another literary interest enthralled me. Barbara Mellix in “From Outside, In” discusses her journey with code switching and learning how to use “proper English” when necessary. Her so-called “black English” was her native language, and she was taught proper English through schooling. While she did not necessarily fall in love with this concept of needing to adapt her language, Mellix expanded her literacy by doing so. Personally, when introduced to the Spanish language, I felt challenged; however, I felt empowered as well. I loved the way the words were spoken with ease, and how letters like “r” rolled off the tongues of those speaking. Eighth grade marked my journey into the Spanish language and at this time I was forced to accept that my prior English literacy skills were useless. Spanish sentences are formed differently; verbs are conjugated in a variety of ways; accents exist where they do not seem to make sense. I faced these challenges head on, and I still do today. Even though I lacked motivation in reading English, I spent my time reading articles or short essays in Spanish to further my understanding. I allowed myself to fall in love with languages of all sorts, and even learned to read and write the Korean alphabet-- a skill I did not once think I would ever obtain. I took my love for foreign languages to the next level whenever I decided to attend college to major in Spanish at Seton Hill University. There, I am able to continue my education on both the English and Spanish language. Multiliteracy, as discussed in “Learning to Serve” by Tony Mirabelli, can be an outstanding skill to gain. I believe multiliteracy teachings are a key to the future, and they hold a lot of power. In a world where everyone is learning to accept one another, open-mindedness to other literacies and cultures is crucial. 

Overall, my literacy journey has had its bumps in the road, but I still currently love languages. My mind has opened to writing more in the last few years and in recent times, I have found myself writing for expression. Although I had negative influences on my path to literacy, I overcame them and was able to find my passion. Today, my literacy is still growing and developing, but I am optimistic in my endeavors. 

Works Cited

Mellix, Barbara. “From Outside, In.” Writing about Writing: a College Reader, by Elizabeth Wardle and Doug Downs, Bedford/St. Martin's, 2017, pp. 172–183.

Mirabelli, Tony. “Learning to Serve: The Language and Literacy of Food Service Workers.” Writing about Writing: a College Reader, by Elizabeth Wardle and Doug Downs, Bedford/St. Martin's, 2017, pp. 298–317.