Literacy Narrative 1

Literacy Narrative:

My Development as a Reader and Writer

Vicente Arredondo

ENC 2135
 Literacy Narrative 2

It is incredible to think about how one can pick up and develop such an instrumental

skill as that of reading and writing. I remember as a child of five years of age I could not

believe myself capable of being able to read and write one day. The situation with me was

that I was very discouraged due to being born late I the year (November) and that meant

the I would start school one year later compared to most of the kids my age who were

favored by the school calendar. This meant that when all the children my age were

beginning pre-K, I was still at home watching TV or doing something typical of a five

year old.

I would see my cousin who was of my age, come from school and I would overhear

my mother and aunt talking about how much progress Sandrita had made with her letters

that day. To me writing was like magic, something that its existence or development I

could not wrap my mind around. I was very intimidated by all the smart kids in school

and I felt that I had to somehow meet their standards even though I was not attending

school.

This early insecurity, I believe, held me back from learning how to read and write at

an age most do so. In addition to this insecurity I came to a foreign country, from Mexico

to the United States of America, and I was behind on speaking the language, let alone

read it. The language barrier was something that was even more daunting. I remember not

being able to speak any English for the first three month of kinder-garden. I was the only

student in my class to not be able to read or write until the last few days of class.
 Literacy Narrative 3

I would have been quicker to learn if it was not for having the luck of having such an

incomprehensive teacher. I still remember her name, Ms. Lung. She was a mean and

lonely old lady with glasses and an attitude of your average neighborhood cat-lady. The

antithesis of Ms. Lung was Mrs. Bedwell who was my first-grade teacher and is the

person I owe the credit of teaching me how to truly read and write. Her teaching methods

were fun and incited me to read and write on my own time. She was just a wonder of a

teacher.

I was very close to having Ms. Lung for a second year because she was going to be the

first-grade teacher for the next school year, but by divine power or destiny my parents

switched me to attend a different school. I dont forget how fatigued I was the first day of

first-grade. I had had so many firsts in the past year, first time in the United States, first

time in Kinder-garden, first time speaking English, etc. That day was another first in my

life and I was tired of having to experience so many alien situations.

I reluctantly got out of the car with my mother and in a slumped manner walked with

her to my first-grade class. To my surprise (Ms. Lung had given me a bad connotation of

teachers) I was greeted with the smiling face of an old lady who was waving

welcomingly. The stereotype that I had of teachers being mean and careless was erased

by Mrs. Bedwells consisting motherly care and good teaching habits. In that class I also

made friends that I to-this-day still talk to.

The positive environment that I was in was very crucial for me to be able to read and

write. I had some prior skills from Ms. Lungss kinder-garden class but the situation was

like building on unstable foundations. Mrs. Bedwell had to essentially work from scratch

in terms of my learning. She was very patient, we had a small class so she had the time to
 Literacy Narrative 4

teach me one on one for several minutes every class. I remember it was halfway through

the school year when I finally was at the same reading and writing level as the rest of my

classmates.

I vividly recall the day that my teacher told me that I was no longer behind the rest of

my classmates, I felt so proud hearing her say those words. Yes, I was the clich student

that came home with a star on his forehead running to the house telling my mom that I

was finally smart and my teacher rewarded me for such an accomplishment. There are

only a few moments in my life where I have felt as proud or as accomplished as that day.

It was comparable to how I felt the day I graduated from high school, or the day I

received a scholarship for college, or the day I received a letter back from Florida State

University telling me I got accepted. It was a fundamental stepping stone in my life

which I will always hold dear.