Negri 1

Alberta Negri
Professor Vaughn
Honors English 2089
22 September 2016
The Keys to the Game of Literacy
Again, I want it again! my mother demands from upstairs. My hands instinctively
wince at the thought of repeating Sinfonia No. 3 in D Major again. Not again, please not again! I
long for a drop of praise. The only sounds echoing off the bare, monochromatic walls around me
are the fluid melody pouring out the piano crossed with my mothers staccato tsks tsks tsks. I am
ready to steam out of the room: there is no way my mother could keep me glued to this leatherpadded chair of confinement. But I stay, guiding my mind to pick up on the delicate dynamics
that composer scrawled out on the music score, reminding myself that practice makes perfect. If
only my mother would understand there is something else I would rather be doing.
Again, I want it again! I call out to my team from midfield. My legs instinctively
lighten up at the possibility of another full field scrimmage against the boys team. Again, please
I want to play again! The only responses calling out around the freshly-mowed, ready-to-stain
grass soccer field are the chorus of my teammates tiredly pleading with me that three consecutive
games really is enough. They are ready to return to their homes, steaming dinner waiting for
them after a cold nights practice. Yet there is no way I am leaving; I could contentedly stay after
and play on my own. So I stay, training my feet to delicately cradle the ball as it hurtles down
from a Monet-painted sunset, coaching myself that practice makes perfect. If only my mother
would understand there is nothing else I would rather be doing.

Negri 2
Up and down, down and up. C major, A minor, B flat major, cadence. The endless
repetition of scales on this drowsy Sunday morning and the dull pull of sleep behind my eyelids
are making my wrists droop onto the ivory keys. My mother had rushed me into the van extra
early, hoping to squeeze in every last minute of practice that she could before my big
Conservatory performance within the next few days: it was a big week for her. She made sure to
remind me how woefully unprepared my practice runs had sounded, despite the fact that they
had been near flawless. Every few minutes, from a stiff wooden bench teetering in the corner, my
aging Singaporean instructor calls out unconvincing praises of my progress. Wow, very good.
Nice. Impressive effort. I am slowly refining my ability to read music straight from the
score, no hesitations allowed. Another day, another rep. Practice makes perfect, I weightily sigh
to myself.
Up and down, down and up. Sprint, one foot jumps, side lunge, rest. The uninterrupted
procession of steps falls behind me as I race up the steel bleacher steps at my beloved middle
school. I woke up extra early this Saturday morning to meet a teammate at the field to work on
our fitness; when she failed to show up, I made sure to send her a guilt-tripping message, even
though I was perfectly content with working out in solitude. Every few sets, my mind brings up
recharging remarks. One more. Faster feet. You cant stop now. I am improving my ability
to read the game, reaction time accelerating. Another day, another rep. Practice makes perfect, I
energetically remind myself.
Fast forward to where I am now: intently writing this English paper before rushing out to
catch the charter bus with the rest of the UC Womens Club Soccer team for our games this
weekend. I quit playing piano four years ago, to the chagrin of my mother.

Negri 3
But wait. There is one distinctive question that usually pops up when I share this
narrative. After extensive years of development in both soccer and piano, what happened? Why
did one of them fall off?
Its important to bear in mind that there are things such as non-traditional literacy: you
can read things other than alphanumeric text. This was an account of how I developed my
personal literacy in both piano and soccer, and my journey through each. Literacy is comprised
of several different practices. When someone is literate in something, she puts in time and
dedication to master the interpretation of some thing. A person can do repetitions, observe others
in action, sometimes even read a textbook on how to improve her abilities. As a person develops
her literacy, she can begin to understand what something or someone is communicating with her,
and then respond accordingly. She is sometimes even able to apply previous knowledge of their
literacy to prompt a reaction out of some thing. Nevertheless, the most important component to
developing a profound and lasting literacy is not just mindless repetition. It is an internal passion
towards the skill.
For both skills, I had progressed through very similar methods. Practice two days a week,
competitions on the weekends, and endless sets of exercises in-between. However, the reason for
the work was very different in both cases. When it came to piano, I was extrinsically motivated: I
needed to keep my mother happy. My sister was a master pianist, and my mother was pushing
me to follow in those footsteps. To be honest, there were times when I would only sit down,
poised hands at the piano, because it would satisfy my mother enough to let me go to the field
later that evening. I believe that I would have gone further and been more successful with piano
if I hadnt been forced against my will to pursue piano. It made it even worse that I had to
choose between soccer and piano on some days. Literacy is better cultivated when literacy

Negri 4
learners readily choose and push themselves intrinsically. While yes, people need an initial push
to get interested at first, that push cannot turn into the constant driving force. It cannot become a
crutch.
Not everyone is afflicted with this struggle to find a push to continue developing. In
comparison to the story of Sherman Alexie, our cases are different when it came to our respective
motivations to become literate. This gentleman was moved by an internal motivation. It was all
his own choice. Sherman Alexie wanted to follow his fathers ways, and also be the hero he
believed his people needed. Alexies overwhelming gusto is easily noted when he writes in The
Joy of Reading and Writing, I read with equal parts joy and desperation. I loved those books,
but I also knew that love had only one purpose. I was trying to save my life (131). You can
already sense the passion dripping from just three lines of his work. He was adamant about his
literacy, and nothing was going to stop him from continuing his pursuit of the skill. He would not
falter at the thought of crack-of-dawn Sunday practices, or his classmates giving him stern
reactions. My motivation, on the other hand, was better described as inducement. The only
reason I continued to develop my literacy of playing piano was to appease my mother, and thus
have more leverage to do other things I loved, like soccer.
Yet when exploring literacy development, it is important to not only look for the sources
of motivation, but also the sources of feedback: I am able to directly relate to Erika Petersens
essay on how positive response to literacy helps motivate further development. In Past
Experiences and Future Attitudes in Literacy, she states, It was very apparent after reading the
literary reflections and reviewing the interviews that following a discouraging eventmost
students felt incompetent or felt like something was wrong until an encouraging teacher or event
came along (195). In other words, positive praise inspires work ethic; negative attention stems

Negri 5
it. I will begin by discussing responses to my piano development. Whenever I did muster up
enough energy to sit myself down onto the piano bench on early weekend mornings, I did get a
handful of comments from my dad that were positive. In the middle of Clair de Lune, I would
sometimes hear the rustle of pillows behind me as he sat down on the couch to get a better listen.
Unfortunately, the majority of all the commentaries were more defeating. My mother was always
too critical. I realize that it was because she saw my potential and wanted me to push my talents,
but at the young age that I was, it was always counterproductive. No matter how beautifully I
played the Sonatina, I would be scolded and told that I had messed up the bridge (regardless of
the fact that my mother never played piano and thus didnt understand what I was even playing
in the first place). I was a part of the Royal Conservatory Certificate Program, where every year I
was required to present my progressing skills to a panel of judges to grade my skill level. The
judges were essentially required to be critical, so that really doesnt even require an explanation.
I still remember receiving the score sheets weeks after my exam, angry marks swarming the
comment sheet (Figure 1).

Figure 1: Example exam

score sheet from level 8
I believed
my piano
teacher was
only supportive because he was too nice to be anything else. My thinking, at age 12, was that he

Negri 6
had to make sure I was happy so that my mother would continue paying him to teach me. That
was not the greatest feeling, as you can imagine.
Soccer, on the other hand, was a completely different ball game. I had been nominated as
team captain, by coach and teammates, for four straight years. This honor gave two indicators of
my literacy in the game of soccer. First, it meant that in the technical sense, I was talented at
interpreting and understanding the flow of the game: I played well. Second, it signified that I was
literate when it came to analyzing the attitudes and social cues that my teammates would exude: I
could read my teammates. Realizing this boosted my confidence, which in turn made me even
more eager to continue developing the skills for this literacy. Referees and coaches from
opposing teams would approach me after tough games and compliment me on my talent and
ethic. My father would critique me after every game, but interestingly enough, those were some
of my favorite moments. I was so head-over-cleats in love with improving my literacy with the
game that I was eager to hear any and every piece of criticism. I believe that is why I turned
myself into my own biggest sponsor when it came to soccer. I was always pushing myself
intrinsically to play harder, read faster. This was a far cry to my motivation for piano, which
consisted of something closer to apathetic lethargy.
Yes, my literacy development for both piano and soccer showed striking parallelism. Yes,
I technically excelled in both areas. However, in my mind, I was only successful in soccer. And
thats supported by the fact that soccer is the only thing that I continued with, and plan to keep up
for as long as I can. For me, literacy development should not just involve the dry, mechanical
definition of how a person learns to master a skill. Anyone can work hard enough to become
fully proficient in anything they wish. Exceptional literacy development needs to include the
passion as the purpose. The lust for the labor. Without it, the development stops premature. There

Negri 7
is growth superficially, but not emotionally. While yes, I learned to play 5-page ballads and
interpret italicized Latin footnotes, I felt no lasting attachment to them. I never developed the
ability to connect to the motions on the set of 82 keys. For soccer I learned to read a defense,
decode the intonation of the voices shouting around me, but more importantly I learned how to
love what I was doing so that I continue progressing for years to come.
So, if you want to practice a new literacy, go for it. Grudgingly do those extra sets of
exercises that your mom demands. Sit through those dragging hours of extra instruction that slip
unheard through your ears. Now if you really want to develop some lasting, you must cultivate
an internal passion to push yourself along when no one else is around to push for you. Thats the
key to the game.

Works Cited

Negri 8

Alexie, Sherman. "The Joy of Reading and Writing: Superman and Me." Writing about Writing:
A College Reader. 2nd. ed. Ed. Elizabeth A. Wardle and Doug Downs. Boston:
Bedford/St. Martins, 2014. 129-31. Print.
Petersen, Erika. "Past Experiences and Future Attitudes in Literacy." Writing about Writing: A
College Reader. 2nd. ed. Ed. Elizabeth A. Wardle and Doug Downs. Boston: Bedford/St.
Martins, 2014. 191-97. Print.