Personal Literacy Narrative- 2nd Draft

From the start I had a very non-conventional educational experience, ever sense my parents decided to homeschool me staring in 1^st grade that has taken me on a unique adventure.  I am currently in the second semester of my freshmen year at Sacramento State University, I have not selected a major yet, which is one of the main struggles I am going through right now. Figuring out my educational interests is currently one of my main priorities. Unfortunately this hasn’t just been a recent dilemma to me, I have been trying to figure out what career path to take since the beginning of high school.

            Since my very early years studying the complicated language of English I struggled. Like I mentioned before I home schooled from first grade through fifth grade. I don’t know what specifically went wrong along the way to cause me to struggle with reading so much but whatever it was caused me to have to seek extra help. So beginning in third grade I began to get assigned extra spelling and writing excursuses on top of my regular English work. The exercises were very repetitive and caused me a great deal of stress. One segment of the course that I remember especially vivid was where my mom would read out a word very slowly. She was instructed to exaggerate each syllable how the lady who had designed the book, Susan Bartan, had told her to in an instructional video that my mom had watched. After my mom read the word I would have to repeat it just how she had said it and then came the fun, spelling it. This step was done in a rather unique way, I would use these blue wooden tiles, similar to scrabble, and attempt to spell it. The only way I need to describe feelings towards this activity is by saying that it was always the low point of my day.

            Even though I received extra help with reading and writing at a young age I still struggled with it into middle school. I remember a particularly unpleasant experience I had in my 7^th grade English class. We had to write a two-page essay about our childhood that we had to present in front of the whole class, and I had a fear of speaking in front of a crowd. My teacher at the time, Mrs. Favor, was known around the school as a harsh grader and being cold hearted. I hadn’t found her too stand out as a significantly mean teacher so far that year, but that all changed when I presented my essay. Like I said I was very nervous, and once I got up in front of the class I forgot a lot of the requirements such as looking up at the audience or speaking clearly. When I got my grade back for the presentation I was greatly saddened to see that I had gotten a 60 percent. I had spent days working on my paper and it had been grammatically flawless due to several peer edits and revisions, but that’s not what caused me to lose points. Mrs. Favor later explained it was my presentation that caused my drop in grade. From that day forwards I always have been self conscious when speaking in front of crowds because I think I’m going to preform poorly. It’s unfortunate that an experience that should have taught me how to be more comfortable in front of a crowd and prepare me actually had the reverse affect. This experience also shows me that people with good intentions don’t always know how to get the results they want. I know my teacher was trying to help me by pointing out all my flaws but I’m not sure if she would have taken the same steps in showing me my mistakes if she would have known the long-term result.

            Then came high school where the essay got longer and the grading slightly harsher, by this time I had gained quite a few skills that helped me with my style of writing and structure. Not to mention the teachers were much more qualified and easier to understand. It was around this time in my sophomore year that I had the teacher who changed my writing and public speaking styles for the better in a big way. Mr. Palshaw was a kind, energetic, middle-aged father who always amused me when I was having a bad day. I took a new interest in broadening my knowledge of the English language due to my enjoyment in the class and the simplistic twist Mr. Palshaw put on presenting the information. Never before had I understood grammatical rules with such ease, and more importantly Mr. Palshaw was the first English teacher who’s class I could sit through without day-dreaming about which juicy morsel the overflowing vending machine was serving for lunch. Following my more positive experience with Mr. Palshaw, my stance towards learning changed. I became more accepting to learning things I had thought I was bad at, and I acquired a stronger will to not give up. These types of experiences are the kinds that define us depending on how we choose to handle them. As long as you try your best and never give up on something you will thrive.