Hello Everyone and Welcome!
Here is our own place to write, reflect, chat, and think about our teaching and how who we are impacts who we are as teachers. Thank you all for being so brave as to try this out with me! I am so excited to see what this brings in terms of continuing our conversations outside of class! I will post something once a week and would ask that you respond once a week as well.
I chose this name as a metaphor for us to write and follow our thoughts as they wind around, take side trips, overflow, dry up, are replenished again and flow into the sea of literacy! How was that for profound?
This week I am thinking about who I am as a writer and a reader. Where did I come from in terms of my own literacy? What is my history as a reader and a writer?
I was not a reader when I was little. My sister was not only the avid reader of the ENTIRE Nancy Drew set, but also quickly followed in my father and my grandfather's footsteps as the writer of the family! As the second child, well, let's just say there was no way to compete. She was already publishing stories as Christmas presents for the family before I was even beginning to write in cursive! I went through much of my childhood not understanding what I read, although I did get all A's on every report card. I was your classic word caller who loved phonics because I could and did read with great inflection and expression. The only problem is that I never actually thought about what I was reading!!
In terms of writing, again, coming from a long line of writers I was intimidated and when I finally did write something I recieved so much praise that it was embarrassing. Shameful too because along with that praise was the dark secret that I had stolen the idea from a wordless picture book! I wrote the reverse story of Goldilocks and the 3 bears where the bears do all the visiting. My Grandfather was SO enamoured with my story he HAD to talk about it every time we saw him. Little did he know that each time he talked about this I was sure someone was going to discover that the idea had not been mine at all!! If I only knew then what I knew now. All writers get their ideas from somewhere! Katie Wood Ray recommends that we should all write with a stack of our favorite writing mentors on our desk next to us to remind us what good writers do!! It was a very long time before I wrote again, and nobody ever did discover me...either that or they just never told me!!
So who are you as a reader? A writer? What are some stories or thoughts about your reading and writing history? What has shaped you into the literate person that YOU are today?
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As I read the questions, I ask myself, who am I really as a reader and writer and how did I get here? I stop and ponder, think and reflect back on my childhood. I question whether I should share my true journey or create an amazing story about my families love for reading and writing. I’ve come to the realization that we all have separate journeys. Although they are not all the same, they all end with an inspiring story. The truth is I became the literate person I am today by growing up with an illiterate father whom found great joy in watching his children learn. Although he couldn’t help us read or write, he stressed the importance of education because it was something he missed out on along with his childhood. It wasn’t until my father passed away from cancer when I was thirteen that I realized the extent to which he was illiterate. I stumbled upon boxes under his bed of education material. My mom explained that he was too embarrassed to ask for help and wanted to learn on his own. My drive for education wasn’t the typical story, but one that would make my dad very proud today.
I struggled with reading in the first and second grade and then flourished from there. I loved to read books, magazines, recipes, and signs. You name it and I read it. At one point I remember becoming a True Story Magazine junky with my mom. Stories either had to be true or mysteries. Nothing in between really worked for me. I still find that true for me today. It is funny how your reading likes and dislikes can be shaped at such a young age.
Writing was different. Although, I remember enjoying writing as a child, I never truly felt like I was a writer. I kept diaries and loved letter writing. I almost always had a Pen Pal that I kept in touch with. I almost never wrote stories for pleasure. If I wrote, it was for a purpose, which is again still true of me today.
The single most reason I am the literate person I am today is my drive to break the cycle of literacy in my father’s family. He was and is my inspiration with each stepping-stone of my educational experience.
Reading and writing have always come relatively easy to me or so I thought. I am constantly reading (although it feels like more children's books then anything else these days). I can remember reading labels on things at the table just for something to read! I still find myself doing this today.
When I stop and think about writing, I realize that while writing non-fiction research papers and things like that has always come easy, writing pieces that have more meaning to me are not quite as easy. I have taken other writing courses where I have been "forced" to write about me and my life and I remember all over again how difficult it is for me, but I also remember how much I love doing it and how relaxing it is for me when I just let myself write. My hope is that after leaving this class, I will continue to write, even if it is just for me (and maybe I will finally write in the baby journals I bought for both kids!).
b.j.-thanks for sharing.
So I was the kid who was under their blankets at 2 am trying to finish the last of my Little House on the Prairie books. My mom would get so mad as she would come to check on me and find me snuggled under with a flashlight. I loved books more than anything. I remember fighting with my mom in Kindergarten because I didn't want to work on phonics. I just wanted to read sentences right from the start. I have always loved fiction and reading it has been enjoyable and easy. It wasn't until I started teaching reading that I realized how complex it is. I realize now that I often skim text without ever digesting the words...especially in nonfiction.
However, writing was different for me. I much enjoy writing nonfiction. In fact, the papers I'm most proud of (and worked the hardest on) were two in college: one on the social interactions of honeybees and another on the nasal structure of dinosaur skeletons. Yes! I'm a dork. Writing fiction scares me still. Poetry is the scariest yet. I think that's probably why I'm such a timid writing teacher. I was even intimidated in our class last week. The blank page mocks me and my words sound hollow and wanting. :)
Who am I? How did I get here? Wow! Books have always been my great escape. I remember reading and rereading an old Dick amd Jane basal during the summer before my first grade year. I loved the knowledge that there was a code and I had mastered it. I was in awe during my first visit to the school library, vowing to read every book.
As a member of a large family, 5 younger brothers and sisters, there was always noise and chaos. I would sneak my library books under my shirt and enter the one bathroom we all shared. I would climb into the empty bathtub and read. It was the only quiet and undisturbed place in our house. I couldn't hear or see anything but the words in my book. I read Trixie Belden, Nancy Drew, my brother's Hardy Boys... I liked that the stories were predictable and easy to digest. I needed that.
I still use my reading time to escape. I read just before I close my eyes each and every night. Reading helps me to unwind and destress. I travel with books, to the doctor's office, to the garage, and on vacation. My bookshelves are overstocked with books I plan to read someday.
Writing - this area has been my personal menace. I quickly learned that you have to write to please your audience. My mom loved my first stories. She shared them with my aunts, who oozed the praisings all first writers need to carry on. But Mrs. Caine, my first grade teacher would mark (yes, in red) all that was wrong with my writing. At first, I tried to get it right. Then I cried. Finally, I concluded that writing less meant that there was less to mark wrong. I knew then that I was not a writer. I spent much of my school years avoiding writing tasks, and watching for the signs that confirmed that I wasn't the writing I wanted to be.
I always wanted to be able to produce the words that would wow a reader, create a picture and having people asking me - where did you get that talent? I read what other writers and other people do with words. I think, it's just words and yet the way they put those words together, it sound so beautiful. I want to believe I have the makings of a writer buried deep inside, but what if I don't?
Who I am as a reader and writer is so closely connected to my childhood experiences and my parents' desire make my childhood better then theirs. My parents both came from highly dysfunctional families where you were lucky to be fed and bathed. There were no bedtime stories, trips to the library, or family nights. My mother often recalls how difficult it was to read me bedtime stories after working a full day without falling asleep mid-sentence. But, she knew fist-hand that literacy was her ticket out of a lifestyle she never wanted me to experience. My father remembers how school and a quality education was never valued in his home. Yet, he spent so many evenings helping me survive geometry.
Despite the precedents their parents set, I grew up surrounded by books, took countless trips to the library, and played every board game under the sun! Thank you parents! I don't recall whether reading came easy to me in the beginning, but I don't ever remember a time in my life when I didn't enjoy it! Writing is a bit of a different story (even now I've rewritten this paragraph three times so far).
Like Jen, I'm more comfortable writing a twenty-five page paper analyzing Shakespeare's comedies. I've decided that this style of writing has always been more comfortable because I knew the formula. Even in high school, I'd figure out what the teacher wanted and give it to her. Funnel style introduction paragraph? You got it! MLA style bibliography? No problem! Write about what color I feel inside? Now we have a problem!
I remember vividly when my college professor asked each of the four member of my “Chaucer's Canterbury Tales” class to write the next tale. We would then recite our "new" tales as we marched on our own pilgrimage through the campus woods. I wanted to eat my paper, rather than share it (maybe unexplained vomiting would have gotten me out of class).
My first positive experiences with narrative writing and poetry were with my students. They were safe. They loved me, thought I was beautiful, and drew me with a Barbie doll waistline! I couldn't go wrong. Teaching children is where I'm most comfortable sharing about myself and trying techniques which are less familiar. I'm hoping this course teaches me to feel as comfortable sharing my writing (and myself) with my colleagues as I feel when working with my students.
As I sit and read all of your entries so many memories flow back into my mind. I, too, grew up being more of a reader than a writer. Am I dating myself when I say that my series of choice was not Nancy Drew but The Babysitter's Club books? I can still picture my old bedroom with the headboard that had a built-in bookshelf. I packed that thing with all of the BSC books that I had, including every Super Special Ann Martin had ever written! There are pictures of me reading everywhere in my old house- living room, dining room, bedroom, basement. I just couldn't wait to see how each book ended!
In school, I remember fourth grade reading groups. I don't remember if I was the Blue Birds or the Robins but I do remember knowing I was in the high reading group. I don't know how I figured it out but somehow everyone knew which level each group was. I don't actually remember "learning" how to be a better reader, just doing a lot of reading out loud during round robin reading.
And here comes the writing part. I did keep some diaries when I was young but it was mostly bed-to-bed stuff. In middle school, my diary pages were filled with wonderings about if certain boys "liked" me or not, and practicing what my name would look like if the boy I "liked" and I ever got married- Kim Dupont, Kim Bishop, etc.
In high school and college I quickly learned what makes a good paper good and was able to do it on most occassions. Being a history major required analysis of certain wars and other historical events but never personal pieces of writing which gave me comfort.
Last year's class really brought back many uncomfortable feelings for me about writing assignments in school. I have always been that black and white person- I am the student that would ask how many lines my writing had to be. Not because I only wanted to write that amount, but because I wanted to make sure I wrote atleast that amount, to please my teacher. In this class there were no line limits, formats, topics, nothing for me to go by. I started to feel icky. On my way home from that first class, I was on the phone with my mom telling her about my unsettling feeling, when I remembered something that I always tell my students. When you get that icky feeling it just means that you are doing your best learning. You're stretching your brain into something new. You have to feel a little uncomfortable before you feel comfortable with something new. And then more teacher encouraging comments came to mind. The more you practice the easier it will become. If you try it you might like it. I decided my icky feeling was a good thing and gave it my all. I still wouldn't call myself a writer yet even though I definitely feel less icky than I did last year. My hope is that, as time passes, my icky feeling will disappear completely and writing won't be such a scary thing anymore.
Hi everyone,
Before I could share with you about me as a reader or writer- I had to figure out how to get on this blog!! Okay- I'm here!
I really enjoyed everyone's comments. It's funny how much people have in common with each other and don't even know it. I am the youngest in my family. I have an older sister who is 11 years older than me and a brother who is 6 years older than me. Not to sound awful-but my brother could do no wrong-in anything! He got good grades- my sister got ok grades. I got good grades and I don't remember ever stressing over them at all when I was young. I always got in trouble for talking-me? :)
My dad went in the service early and he never finished high school. I didn't find this out until I was in my twenties and it still was a hush subject. I always wondered why he would ask me to read the directions or a story to him (so I could practice). He can read and write. He writes in all caps tho.
I only remember my mom reading magazines but later in life- when she became ill with cancer- she split her time between novels and crocheting afgans for anyone who was nice to any of us.
In school, I hated round robin. I always had the page read and I remember feeling bad for the student that the teacher forced to read the page out loud. I remember thinking "can't I just go back to my seat and read this alone?" I also remember that we could not go ahead in the story and we needed to do all the worksheets ALL the worksheets.
As a writer I bloomed! It was like my pencil had permission to say all the wondrous things that I wondered about! It was safe to write how you felt but I would have thrown up if I was ever asked to share or read any of it. Read all of my writing- I used to think - but don't read it in front of me. I used to write short stories and poems for my family on their birthdays. My brother and father still say that these were their favorite cards every year. I LOVED to write! Then came sophomore year of high school. I had an english teacher who said that she loved to write and that we would be writing a lot. I was in my glory! I soon learned, like a lot of us, what she wanted to get the A. Commenting on a book or writing a report never interested me as much as poetry and stories. Midyear she asked us to write a reflective piece and I remember that I was so proud of my work. She wanted it in the form of a poem and I remember being so proud of it. I didn't get an A and she said that she didn't agree with my feelings. I did get enough nerve to question her on this since this was a reflective piece. After that- I stopped writing for about five years or so. I did not share anything. I did what was expected. Then I had the most amazing professor in college and the writing bug grew again. I even won the writing contest for my college yearbook and got my poem published!
I am writing a lot so forgive me because now I am on a roll. My daughters are very good at reading and writing. It might have something to do with all the books in their cribs and all the stories we have read. My youngest daughter has the gift of story. She has won writing awards and she has even had her work published in the 2006 edition of young writers! Okay- I love to write and these days I really don't care who likes it or not and I even recently wrote another poem for my brother in law! I love creating poems and songs and fun ways for my students to learn! I had the chance in college to display a bunch of my poems and my favorite poem was about my mom. She had passed away 2 weeks before I graduated with my masters from Lesley. I remember my dad crying and saying he wished that she could have seen this and me but I told him that she was the first one to see! Thanks for listening.
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I will start out by saying that who I am as a reader and writer has changed and evolved over the years. I can remember all the way back to first grade when I struggled with reading anything on my own. I absolutely loved it when my mother, father, aunt, or uncle would read to me, but I found it very difficult to read independently. When I began second grade I was lucky enough to have a teacher who taught me not only how important reading is throughout your life, but how much more enjoyable life can be when reading. I have vivid images of her reading the BFG by Roald Dahl with such enthusiasm and wishing I could read just like her someday. I think this was the motivation that helped me to become the reader I am today.
Today I read for pleasure whenever I have that free moment. I love to read on a fall day outside or on my big comfy chair on those cold winter nights. I love when I find an author who can suck me so that I am thinking about the book in the back of my mind whenever I am not reading it. I love books that teach me more about myself, and my decisions; books that guide me to reflect on life in a positive way so that I become a better person.
When I think of myself as a writer I can remember always having a diary or journal of some sort and I look back on the ones that my mom saved and know that I must have truly enjoyed writing because I wrote about everything and anything including the very tiniest details of my day. I am a person who feels a lot and can be told at times I can be too sensitive. Writing things down on paper has always put my mind at ease; almost as if that weight has been lifted right off my shoulders and onto the paper. I know it sounds corny, but it is true. Even when I am stressed I write about it, which helps those stresses leave my mind.
I love to write, but I would love to write with more meaning and feel more confident in what I am writing. If you asked me to write a research paper I would dread every second of it, but writing for interest is something I get entangled in. As a writer I feel that I have so much more to learn and am very interested in doing that. I want to feel more confident in my writing so that I can impress that on my students and know that I am preparing them for their writing future.
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