literacy narrative

Sarah Thomas
Professor Alexa Mannheim
English 043 Section 1050
04 February 2014
EARLY MEMORY
Like so many things in life, I learned how to read and write by imitating my father. My father is a pharmacist and he is a very friendly person he is more like a friend to me. I am definitely what one may call a “Daddy’s Girl” and I learned how to sound out letters on his lap. My father often says that if he had not been a pharmacist, he probably would have become a history teacher. Many of my earliest memories of my dad are of him sitting in a huge la-z boy chair and reading. He told me that I used to crawl all over the chair and up his legs, vying for attention. So to simply calm me down, he would make me sit on his lap and read to me. My favorite book was always Corduroy and despite the fact that I often cried for the little teddy bear without a button, I was always soothed by the ending when he is finally bought by a little girl and I’d demand to hear it again.
Since I always tried to imitate my father in every way, I would sit by him and flip through my own books while he read his or the newspaper. Many times I remember my mother questioning me on the books I was “reading” and most of the time, I would make it up since I really had no idea. She caught on very quickly, thus the transition from being read to, to being the person actually reading was a bit difficult for me. My mother was not as patient or gentle as my father was and unfortunately, she was the one in charge of my schooling. In elementary school, I remember horrible afternoons of reading these “See Jane Run” books. Sadly, reading became a chore after that and while I didn’t have many problems learning, it definitely wasn’t a favorite past time anymore.
Books finally made a comeback when I was in the fourth grade and my best friend was reading a book by Ann M. Martin called Kristy’s Great Idea. She would not stop talking about it until I finally picked it up. The Babysitter’s Club became my new and roaring obsession. I was hooked on the series about a bunch of girls who were my age, dealing with all the things I was dealing with. I could not get through that series fast enough and I began exploring other books and genres. My passion was ignited and it was hard to focus on school books sometimes when all I wanted to do was read my own books. I started going to the bookstore more frequently in middle school and high school, opting to buy a book over borrowing at the library. I admit that to this day, library books gross me out and I am very fanatical about my own books when letting others borrow them.
Along with my passion for reading, I also started writing. My sixth grade teacher, Mr. Neil, was a huge advocate for writing. Whenever we walked into his classroom, he would wave his arms and say, “Welcome to the stress free zone!” Then we would begin free writing exercises where he wanted us to record our observations of the world around us. We were told not to worry about grammar and structure so much, but to write whatever came to mind (grammar lessons were saved for our writing prompt essays). He asked us about exciting events that were happening in our lives. Did we have a fun story to tell? These classes almost always had something interesting to offer and that was around the time I started keeping long and extensive journals.
Even now, I read a lot for fun. Having years to hone in on exactly the kinds of books that interest me, I find that this is a good thing because I am always learning something new. The only problem I find with this hobby is that when school is in session, I often retreat to my books for pleasure rather than the class reading. Along with my used books snobbery, this is something I am (years later) still trying to overcome.