Literacy
Narrative
Learning to read and write was never
difficult for me because my parents were avid readers and I looked up to my
older sister who was always eager to dive into a novel. Throughout elementary
school, I was the kid who read a book a day and then
checked out another book a minute after. I enjoyed finishing books and taking
the online tests that went along with them because I could receive points and
the student with the most points received an award. I won the award in fourth
grade. I had no competition. It was not that no one else read books and took
the tests, but rather, it was because I had distanced myself in my level of
proficiency and passion to read. I read 48 books and passed 43 of them. I was
also a devoted writer in my early days; writing short stories for a comedic
purpose to share with my classmates during break-time. In elementary school, I
scored exceptionally well on all of my English and writing tests and the state-given
final exams. I had no trouble to any extent with my ability to succeed in
writing or English up until my junior year of high school. Junior year of high
school is the toughest year for students because colleges begin to recruit and
classes are more rigorous because students are striving to impress the
universities’ in which they are applying to.
It all started on the first day of
my junior year when I was assigned an essay prompt, “I Believe”. I was eager to
write an essay on such a broad topic. I had several ideas traveling through my
mind, almost like the way a little boy’s mind scrambles when he is required to
choose one ice cream flavor from a list of twenty. I went home that night
feeling excited about the first day and how perfect my classes were because all
of my best friends were seated next to me and I even had some cute girls in my
class. I finished all of my math, science, and history homework and then took a
shower before eating a family dinner. After dinner, I took my laptop upstairs
and plopped it on my desk. I pulled out my headphones, turned on some music,
and opened up Microsoft word. I began writing freely, attempting to strike gold
with a remarkable essay. I formed an idea of which I began to write around.
Starting the paper off with, “How did I begin to believe”? I wanted to travel
backwards and answer the question of why someone believes something. I had a
structured essay with no grammatical errors and I was confident that my
professor would score my paper with distinction. After turning in my paper and
after a few days passing by, our teacher had graded the papers and they were
ready to be handed back. Our teacher was walking in circles around the
classroom struggling to remember everyone’s names while passing back our essays.
I was awaiting mine with a sense of nervousness even though I was positive that
I scored well. When I received my paper, I saw red pen marks; the “red pen
marks which usually signify errors”. I flipped my paper over with assurance,
only to see an 80 on the top right corner of my paper. I had just received a
‘C’ on a paper that was issued, “I Believe”…A paper that was supposed to be
written on something I believe in. How can someone grade the value of what
someone believes in if we all have our own beliefs and perspectives on life?
From that exact moment of seeing a low score, I knew the teacher did not like
me and I had no intention of considering her an effective instructor.
Of all my classes, English had
always been the most preferable class to take and I never had an issue with any
of my prior teachers. But after having a teacher who graded me harshly for so
many assignments and tests, I had no intentions of caring anymore in English. I
started seeing myself more interested in a depressing science classroom than I
did in English. We were given AP practice essays to test our ability to write
and I scored in the 3-5 range. I repeat; I scored in the range of a 60-76
range, which is an average of a ‘D’ grade. I am not a ‘D’ student and my work
ethic surely did not reflect even the lowest of a ‘B’ average. I told my other
teachers, my parents, and the principal of everything I had been doing to score
well. I went to tutoring at 6:00AM three days a week to strengthen my writing
skills and I went to everyone asking for help. I saw no results in my grades;
if anything my grades in other classes went down because I had placed so much
of my energy into English.
Over the rest of the semester and
into the second semester, I had kept a solid, ‘82’ average in English and A’s
and B’s in each of my other courses. I was attempting every possible plan and
idea to earn a higher grade. I began writing to please my teacher, rather than
writing for what was on my mind and I saw lower grades. I did not understand
her reasoning. I listed her as the number one teacher for being irrational and
illogical. I spoke with her many times about how I could improve my grades and
we were on the same page and we connected with one another. She was one of the
most sociable and personal teachers I have met when she was off-duty as a
teacher, but inside the classroom, I could not take her anymore. I felt enraged
with an unknowing sense of anger because my hard-work was not paying off and my
determination to succeed was diminishing because the results I had hoped for
were buried deep beyond my reach.
With less than three weeks of school
left in session, I knew that I needed to bring my grade up to a ‘B’ or I would
receive my first ‘C’ in my entire life of schooling. It was a sunny Friday
afternoon and school had just been let out and I had to stay after school to
make up a quiz with my English teacher. I was just looking forward to the
weekend and had no desire to be at school for any longer. I took my quiz and
handed it to my English teacher. She asked me how I felt about the class and if
I had learned anything over the course of the school year and I said to her,
“Personally, I have only learned that with effort you do not always succeed,
but I am irritated that my grade is a ‘C’, which is considered ‘average’ by the
State of North Carolina. If I knew hard work was going to earn me a ‘C’, why
try? She told me to think about the school year and to study for the final exam
and the essay, counted for 25% of the final exam. I waived her off and just
thought she was the average teacher who said, “Study and you’ll be fine.” That
is too broad for success to result from. I left that day and enjoyed my
weekend. I came back to school the next week and we worked on a couple of
practice tests and essays and my scores were still at 4’s and 5’s, but I felt
that I was understanding the material more and more because our teacher pulled
out an essay prompt we did on the second week of school and my mentality on
what to write at the beginning of the year was far less persuading than how I
decided to write it at the end of the year.
At that very moment, I realized that
my teacher was not trying to be the ‘harsh’ teacher that we all have at one
point in our lives. She was helping me reach my true potential as both a writer
and as a person. I learned how to control my emotions with maturity. I learned
how to communicate effectively with an adult regarding business and in my case,
grades. I learned more about myself from that class then I did from any other
course. I respect Mrs. Danielle Volker (Danielle Cupples) because she wanted the best for me, and
she was one of a select few teachers who have truly pushed me to the maximum.
Essentially, our perspectives at the beginning of a situation are like judging
a book by its cover before opening a single page. In life we must allow for the
story to unfold and we must not quit when the results we are looking for do not
fall our way.
So, growing up I was always an avid
reader and writer who never had any trouble with my ability to write a
persuasive essay or to report on a book that was over five-hundred pages. But
as I grew up and reached high school, challenges arose and junior year was a
year to remember because I learned that there is always something new to learn
and that education never ends and new knowledge is always beneficial. Being
literate comes not only from reading books or writing, but also from the
experiences we encounter and work through. Experiences shape our minds, heart,
and our eyes. These three combine to shape our understanding in life. In life
we must converse with others, communicate, and work with one another. If we
experience, we learn and when we learn we grow. If we are growing we must be
moving forward and literate people are educated individuals who have
experienced a lot through books and through living life’s never-ending journey.
-Austin McClain Baker
Austin Baker
Twitter/Instagram: @ABakerPresident
DreamsDriveDetermination@gmail.com
Austin.Baker25@yahoo.com
