Literacy Narrative (in class lab/ prewrite)

1.      “Lydia waited, cramped on the top shelf of the linen closet.” P. 130 paragraph 9

2.       “When we asked if she got hungry or thirsty, she said that she didn't remember feeling that way.” P. 130 paragraph 9

3.       “ But the wood had swollen from the water,” P.130 paragraph 10  Rushing like the Colorado river” P. 129 paragraph 6

4.       How my parents taught me to read at a young age, how relatable Tumblr can be, and my brain does not stay on topic well or work with my hand. I've always been bad at writing, writing is overwhelming.

5.       Purpose: I want to tell a significant story, that readers will want to read more of. Not be boring or something that no one can relate too.

6.       It wound not take much explain for certain narratives so I feel like it would be hard to draw out the story into a longer narrative. But a story would be easier to write about than explain just HOW hard it is for me to write. And most audiences would be better intrigued by a narrative story.

7.       I think I would take an appreciative and affectionate stance towards my parents and what they have done to help me along the years, to describe my tone in this narrative. I would like my readers to see that I am not a complainer, but simply that I appreciate what I can do. And what I have accomplished.

8.      My narrative will be in print. I may feel the need to put in illustrations at certain points, but I do not think it will be a key in the story I put across.

9.       What do I see? I see my little feet, socks, wiggling and the end of my bed. I see my dad, looking down at me as I read him green eggs and ham. I see yellow pages, a green cover, and black ink. I see the foot of my bed. And his giant feet. I see my kindergarten classroom bookshelf, sandbox. The mini desks and chairs, but this time my mom, my curly haired teacher, Miss Anderson.

10.   I hear laughing children. I hear chirping silence at home, before bed. Or the sound of cars driving by on the couch, reading.

11.   Smell? Finger paint. Dad’s cologne.

12.   How do you feel? Proud. On top of the world. Ready for anything back then. But now, when I read or write, I’m scared.

13.   What do you taste? Bugles that my dad used to stick on my fingers before bed. Goats’ milk.

14.   Each person: ME about 4-5 years old. Shortish brown hair, blue eyes and bangs. Very sassy, but still young and sweet. My mom dressed me girl, and I could care less. Although one particular pink cowboy booted outfit made me feel a little overconfident, you could often find me in plastic “high” heels and a bedazzled skirt. I was confident with myself. My parents were good to me. Pushed me to do better, also teaching me to be humble, but proud of anything I accomplished.    My mother: Darker brown hair than I. She is now shorter than I am, but obviously did not used to be. She has skinny gymnast legs, and a huge smile that sticks to her face. She has always been so outgoing, and is a huge people pleaser. She had braces around the time I was in my young years of elementary school, if I remember correctly.  My Dad: you can often catch him on a business trip of some sort. He does a lot of presentations for the plumbing products he sells and promotes for the other big named companies. He works long hard days when he is in town. He commutes to Seattle. Most people say I look most like my dad. Our body (mostly leg) frame is basically identical. And I know I get my math and sports skills from him. He has brown hair, and is about 6’3” in his 50’s. He has a very distinctive cologne scent. Sometimes I pet or kiss my cat and I can smell it from him touching them. He often mumbles, and jokes around with me and the rest of my family a lot. But stays serious at the same time. Usually either wearing a stern face, or a sincere smile or laugh. No in between. Same with me..

15.   Father: ‘calls mom on phone’ asks, “Did you run to Costco for me and pick up the socks I needed?”

Mother: “Oh shoot! No, I forgot. But I didn't really have time today. I will do it tomorrow.”

Father: “Oh my god (a little bit over drastically) Forget it!!”

Mother: ”Um I said I would do it when I could, you don’t have to overreact…”

Father: “I said forget it!! I will do it myself!! With the time I don’t have…”

Mother:” Ugh! Whatever!”

Father: *hangs up*

16.   What happened; my dad expects everything to happen with ease, and throws attitude about something he really probably cares less about, but nobody can get away without getting a little bit of shit for it. While my mom, gets defensive and doesn't take his jokes or crap that he gives her.

17.   No matter how different or challenging life is now, it once was good. And there are great memories waiting to be appreciated. Someone can shine bright and then fade. Especially at a skill such as reading or writing. This story matters to me because it makes me happy to think that I once was really good at something and once had a really happy and amazing relationship with my parents. Along with the fact that they used to teach me skills, vs. getting taught them in school now. Memories like so are priceless.