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Jazz Davis

Paur

Discourse 100

12 September 2017

Literacy Narrative

Reading and writing. People learn to do this and other such related activities in a variety

of different ways. Whether it be like Malcom X and taking words from a dictionary or your

average school child whose parents read to him every night. One way or another they learned,

albeit some not very well, but they still learned. I learned to read probably through my family in

some way. Asking me to remember something about my own life is like asking a snake to get up

a walk. My senior year of high school escapes this trap of repetitive songs and useless tidbits of

information I can use to win a meaningless argument. Ask me how I became and boom answer

but I guess I must try. This is college.

My earliest memory of reading is extremely late and obscure. In elementary school had

read all the Harry Potter books because at that time I had loved to read. Oh, how I loved to spend

my waking hours reading at that time. That changed in high school. I have no idea how I learned

to read. My parents probably bought me books and I probably read them. I was always a bright

child when it came to book smarts. I even use to apply myself to school. Books still entice me as

they do but I lose interest to them in my mind. When I read my mind wanders in the world in

which the book resides. When reading I will start a sentence only to run off in my mind and

begin an entirely different sentence and think up how the scenario set forth would be solved only

to realize that I have moved pages into the book but not have processed any of what my eyes

were scanning. I wasnt engaged with the words that filled these books to the brim. I transitioned
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to video games probably because they kept my focus on my finger placements and my eyes and

mind were required to cooperate on focusing and processing to not miss a single millisecond of

information to do a smidgeon better than the other person. My reading had developed to a point

where I didnt feel I needed to improve. This comes from the fact that I dont believe I should,

when improvement is needed, be told that I am doing good. But other than that, this mainly

refers to works of fiction or history. I can sit and read a research paper about something

extremely boring for hours on end, digesting each individual peace of information including that

which made no sense. In high school, I was meant to research something that interested me and

write a paper about my findings so I researched the brain. The brain is something that I love to

learn about because it is so small yet so powerful and so diverse among different organisms. I

literally chose to read about research done on the brain and psychology over playing video

games. In my mind, it doesnt get lost as if it was cutting through a jungle yet it flows through

my mind that is an empty void, consumed to only be shot out by some natural phenomena that

can never be explained. Much of what I researched is long forgotten but I would still go back and

read about it. I cant explain it but such is the brain.

When it comes to writing I really believe that I become a different person. In writing I

love to talk and debate and convince the reader I am right. I state all that is flawed on the other

side of an argument and then disprove my own counterpoints to make it seem like I am unbiased

but then I immediately put a counterpoint down that counters my previous counterpoint. I put the

argument that would be had on the paper instead of just saying that your idea sucks I destroy it,

rebuild it, and then destroy it again. To not only prove my argument but to show the futility in

arguing for your side and against me. When I write on paper I am not afraid to say anything. I

have insulted people in my papers but I do it in such a way where people will think He is not
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talking about me but in all actuality, I am. I have fun in my writing. My style of writing, if you

cannot tell, is unconventional in more ways than one. A teacher in elementary school once told

me to write papers as if you were talking to someone. I took that to heart, I write as if I have my

group of friends sitting around me in a lounge just hanging out. I dont filter for my friends and

thats where the gold is mined, why hide it. This is advice that I would give to any starting writer

because it feels so much more personal than writing it from a professional perspective. In middle

school one of the teachers said that referring to the reader or the writer is not okay in the realm of

writing. At the time, I thought this was preposterous and actually argued with the teacher

bringing up examples of writer reader interaction in literature but I lost because she was the

teacher and what the teacher says goes, I guess. She did help though and pointed out that

replacing you with people in most situations works perfectly and most teachers didnt care. The

same goes for one and I or some for you. The list could go on. It was so engrained in my

freedom starved mind that when my college professor said that I and other personal words were

allowed, it began to rain in the desert that is my mind. An oasis formed and my writing now

flourishes like an axolotl that met with an accident a long while ago.

It is cool to see that my writing style is still adapting, no, evolving even though it has

been at least 14 years since I learned to read and probably write. Last year I would have thought

that every paper I would write would be basically the same thing over and over and over again

like a while loop with true set as the parameters. Literacy sponsors are still popping up

everywhere I go. The people I encounter usually give some sort of insight or become a voice for

my writing. The video games I play and the tv I watch guide my mind down a path which only

the words on the paper may return. I expect to meet more people down the line of life who will

intrigue more so than many people now, not to say that none do now. The world is ever growing,
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the people I know now will probably not be the same people I converse with in fifty years, or

maybe even 10. The world works in way where people come and go regardless of where you are.

Those people can either help you or help you. Those who try to stop are walls meant to be

walked around or scaled or knocked down. When youre looking at the wall from the other side

it will generally look nicer because it will be behind you instead of towering over you. The other

people will help you because they will try to help you. They will be the hammer to break down

the wall, the rope to scale it, the torch to light the end of the wall. You dont know what the

world will give you but you have got to make do with what is given. Read what you can and

write how you want in the end it is your choice and no one can stop you.