Included on this page is an Essay Proposal and the Literacy Narrative Essay as which is based on my early childhood experiences with learning how to read and write.
Literacy Narrative Essay Proposal
David Lalchand
Prof. Jack Wernick
Writing for the Sciences
February 9th, 2023.
Literacy Narrative
Most of the memories I have relating to early literacy experiences are associated with pain and discomfort. I still shiver at the sound of a stern, commanding voice or whenever my answer to a question is incorrect, I can swear my palms tingle in anticipation of that thin bamboo whip my teachers used to discipline students. All signs would point to trauma, but this was the norm in all the schools I attended growing up in Guyana. I vividly remember being five years old and trying to read the word “to” off the blackboard after my teacher had singled me out to do so. The memory continues with me struggling to recognize the letters and trying to remember the sound each one made. I recall giving up at some point then feeling the swift pain that shot through my body as she forcefully grabbed and twisted my left ear in irritation. Though barbaric, her methods did help me learn how to read and write but I can only imagine the negative ways it affected my fellow classmates. However, whenever I recall those memories, I do not feel anger or frustration towards my schooling as any other person probably would. Instead, those memories serve as a reminder of growth and resilience, since it is instances such as those that have shaped not only the individual but also the writer that I am today. I have realized that I should not punish or ridicule myself as my teachers have done when I make mistakes and experience challenges whilst learning unfamiliar things. I instead choose to embrace and nurture those literacy differences since it is in doing so that I have observed learning to be most effective.
Literacy Narrative Essay
David Lalchand
Prof. Jack Wernick
Writing for the Sciences
February 22nd, 2023.
Insight into my literacy development.
Most of the memories I have relating to early literacy experiences are associated with pain and discomfort. I still shiver at the sound of a stern commanding voice or whenever my answer to a question is incorrect, I can swear my palms tingle in anticipation of that thin bamboo whip my teachers used to discipline students. All signs would point to trauma, but this was the norm in all the schools I attended growing up in Guyana. I vividly remember being five years old and trying to read the word “to” off the blackboard after my teacher had singled me out to do so. The memory continues with me struggling to recognize the letters and trying to remember the sound each one made. I recall giving up at some point then feeling the swift pain that shot through my body as she forcefully grabbed and twisted my left ear in irritation. Though barbaric, her methods did help me learn how to read and write but I can only imagine the negative ways it affected my fellow classmates. Nevertheless, the chalk marks on the unpainted wooden walls of my childhood home have preserved my early attempts at writing. The image of the badly written letters and the nonsensical words in my mind emanate feelings of warmth and carefree times. Hence, whenever I recall the negative memories, I do not feel anger or frustration towards my schooling as any other person probably would. Instead, those memories serve as a reminder of growth and resilience, since it is instances such as those that have shaped not only the individual but also the writer that I am today.
Additionally, as a child I always had a fascination with obtaining knowledge in all shapes and forms. Fond memories of the times I read the newspaper to my grandparents, who never learned to read that well, come to mind. There were times when I had no idea what the story in the newspaper was about, what the words meant or if I was even pronouncing them correctly. Nevertheless, the praise would receive from my grandparents was enough to keep my younger self encouraged and proud of my reading. My father would say that as a child I asked questions from the moment my eyes opened in the morning to the minute they went to rest at night, so much so that he would beg me to stop. Thus, it would not be a stretch to assume that this led to my interest in acquiring knowledge through reading.
Although my early experiences with learning to read in nursery school were traumatic, I don’t remember ever letting it deter my curiosity towards the multitude of words on the pages I attempted to read. Perhaps it was these positive memories that overpowered the hurtful ones. Moreover, I have realized that I should not punish or ridicule myself as my teachers have done when I make mistakes and experience challenges whilst learning unfamiliar things. I instead choose to embrace and nurture those literacy differences since it is in doing so that I have observed learning to be most effective. Championing the struggles and focusing on encouraging myself, like my grandparents had once done, has given me the opportunity they never had to become literate.
