Madison OSullivan

UWRT 1101-009
September 1, 2014
Literacy Narrative
This I Believe
It was the first day of my senior year of high school, and first day of freshman year for
my younger sister. My mother had just called us downstairs. It was approaching seven oclock,
the time we were supposed to be leaving for school, but I cant remember us ever being on time
for anything. We are both already running late and it was only the first day. I was looking
forward to getting this last year of high school over with, but I was not looking forward to
getting back to school. I wanted to fast forward to college already. We dragged ourselves down
the stairs, rubbing our eyes thinking this might wake us up. Hunched over carrying our overly
heavy backpacks; we finally made it to the bottom of the stairs. This surely is an odd sight,
joked my sister, Paige, shocked at what she was seeing. I dont think I have ever seen
something that you have cooked before not be burnt to a crisp. I stopped rubbing my eyes to
see something that I hadnt seen in years; my mother had prepared a whole breakfast for us.
Buttery pancakes, crispy bacon, link sausage, and fresh cut strawberries and bananas covered the
island in our kitchen.
I was starting to question whether my mother had really made all of this, or if she hired
someone to do it for her. Good morning and thank you would have been nice, said my mother
sarcastically. Ive been up since five oclock cooking breakfast for you two, the least that you
could do is thank me. I turned and rolled my eyes. Thank you for finally making us a meal,
replied my sister. I walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a plate for my sister and I. I loaded
my plate with the fruit, hesitant to try the food that my mother actually had to prepare. Once
when I was younger, it took her three burnt meals in one night to finally give up and just order us
a pizza. I often wonder how I didnt starve to death. I finally decided to try one of each and

Madison OSullivan
UWRT 1101-009
September 1, 2014
Literacy Narrative
joined my mother at the kitchen table. She was reading the comic section of the newspaper; she
really is a kid at heart.
My mother waited for my sister to finally join us at the table. Put your phones away,
lets actually have a conversation this morning, said my mother. What classes do you have
this year, she asked me, obviously tired of her conversation with my sister. My schedule
actually wasnt very difficult all together, but I wasnt looking forward to having AP English
again this year. I have AP English, Advanced Studies, Anatomy and Physiology, and AP
Government, I replied. . Of course I have AP English, my least favorite class, first thing in
the morning, I complained to my mother as she sighed. I have never been good with grammar
and punctuation; basically everything that has to do with English was something that I was never
fortunate enough to understand. My mother always encouraged me to take the harder classes
saying that I would be able to handle them, but when it came to my English classes, I still wasnt
convinced. Youll be fine, just dont be afraid to ask your teacher questions when you dont
understand, she said. My mother always attempts to have wise words of wisdom to give us
before we leave for school every morning.
We finished up the rest of our breakfast in silence, my sister and I playing on our phones
as usual, and my mother actually reading the news section of the newspaper for once. My sister
broke the silence, Its 7:15, were going to be late! she exclaimed. We grabbed our backpacks
from the kitchen floor and rushed out of the front door. Slamming the door of the car behind me
as I jumped in and started it up, I see my mother run out onto the front porch, blonde hair still in
her face, big t-shirt and pajama pants, Have a good first day! she yelled. My sister and I
giggled and shook our heads as we pulled out of the driveway.

Madison OSullivan
UWRT 1101-009
September 1, 2014
Literacy Narrative
Although most high school students dont have the nicest cars, mine was one of the
worst. I pulled into the school in my silver Honda accord, paint chipping away, and my handicap
license plate barely hanging on the back. My grandfather owned the car and since he used to
drive it, we still had his disabled veteran license plate on the back. I didnt mind always getting
a front parking spot, considering I was never on time anywhere, but it was pretty embarrassing
for a high school student.
My sister and I rushed out of the car and high tailed it to the front entrance of the school.
Our parking lot was quite a ways away from front entrance of the school. We finally got to the
doors, out of breath from walking so quickly to make it on time. You better still walk me to
class, my sister said, you promised you would! I was already running late so I didnt see
what a few more minutes would hurt to help my sister find her first class. We finally got to her
classroom, which was of course on the other side of the school from mine. Have a good first
day of high school, I yelled back as I quickly started on my way to find my class. I heard my
teacher was strict so I prepared myself to be yelled at for being late, even though it was the first
day back. I also heard that she was a tough grader and considering my past English grades, I was
not looking forward to this. I took a deep breath, let it out, and slowly opened the door to the
classroom.
Welcome to AP English, you must be Ms. OSullivan, said a younger woman, tall and
skinny with blonde hair that was straight as a board that just barely touched her shoulders, from
the front of the classroom. I was surprised to see that it was not the teacher that I had been
expecting. Where is Mrs. Iwanski? I asked her. She wont be teaching here anymore, she has
decided to retire. Im Ms. Sandy, the new AP English teacher for seniors. Please take a seat. I

Madison OSullivan
UWRT 1101-009
September 1, 2014
Literacy Narrative
will not mark you tardy today since it is the first day back, but from here on out you need to be
here before I take attendance in order to be marked present.
I found a seat next to one of my best friends, Kylie. Im just happy to see that it was
someone other than Mrs. Iwanski at the front of that classroom when I walked in, I whispered to
Kylie as I sat down. Ms. Sandy walked over to her computer that was sitting on a desk in the
front of the room. It was plugged into the projector and I was already enjoying this sight. She
was about to play us a video in class. Perfect time for a nap, laughed Kylie. All of the boys
were sitting together in the front of the room. It was obvious that they were enjoying the view
for other reasons. While the video was loading, Ms. Sandy explained to us the importance of it.
Pay close attention to this video, she said. Your first assignment will be based off of this
video so I recommend that you stay awake. Kylie sighed while lifting her head from her desk.
The video started and we all struggled to stay awake. The words, THIS I BELIEVE
flashed up on the projector screen. A man sitting in a chair and began to speak, very slowly and
softly. He had to be in his mid to late twenties. He began to speak about how he lost feeling in
both of his legs after a car accident and how the doctors told him that he would never walk again.
His voice was so powerful; I felt that he was speaking straight to me. At this point, all eyes were
glued to the front of the classroom. They told me that I would be in a wheel chair for the rest of
my life, and wouldnt be able to feel anything from my waist down, he said. Its been a little
over a year since the accident and Im already back on my feet. The man slowly started to rise
from his chair. This was the first time that we had seen his legs in this video. He stood up
straight and continued to tell us about how everyone truly believed that he wouldnt ever walk
again in his entire life and how he worked as hard as he could every single day for a year to
prove everyone wrong. I knew that this accident wasnt the end for me. I knew that if I tried

Madison OSullivan
UWRT 1101-009
September 1, 2014
Literacy Narrative
hard enough, and worked my ass off every single day, I could prove them all wrong, and I did,
he said. This I believe in myself.
The screen cut off and the room was in complete silence. Chills spread all over my body.
Ms. Sandy cut the lights on and walked up to the front of the classroom once again. What did
you think of the video, she asked. The room remained silent, not because we didnt like the
video, but because at that moment all of us were thinking of how grateful we were to be healthy,
and to have the privilege to be in that classroom. In that ten-minute video, our attitudes towards
being in AP English that morning turned completely around. Knocking us out of the awkward
silence that remained after her question, Ms. Sandy began to tell us about our assignment that
was to be completed by the following Monday.
I would like for all of you to close your eyes, she said, think about something that you
truly believe in, the first thing to come to your mind. Now remember what you just thought of
and I would like for you to write about this. It does not have to be a specific length, have correct
punctuation or grammar or anything, I just want for you to write about something that you truly
believe in. It was something that I had never heard an English teacher ever say before. You
didnt hear any of the usual sighs from the class that you usually heard when a teacher assigned
an essay. Silence hovered throughout the room as she gave us the rest of the class to think about
what we were going to write about. The first thing that came to my mind was This I Believe in
The Power of Storytelling; the soon to be title to the best essay that I had ever written.