I would like to spend this journal space writing about the concept of rereading.  In the article “Literacy and the Individual Conscious,” F. Niyi Akinnaso writes about his experience with literacy throughout the course of his life.  One specific instance of developing literacy he discusses is in regards to his reading (and subsequent rereadings) of George Orwell’s Animal Farm.  Akinnaso wrote that the first time he read Animal Farm, he read a simplified version of novel at face value.  To his mind, Animal Farm was just a novel about talking animals.  However, upon subsequent readings (after having acquired more literacy), Akinnaso found the satirical nature of the piece; eventually developing enough that he could “‘read’ beyond the story” and discuss the text critically (151).  While I have never read Animal Farm personally, this concept of rereading after having obtained more literacy is an interesting concept that I would like to discuss in more detail.

In all honesty, I don’t often reread books. However, I have found that the books that I have taken time to go back and read again have been just as (if not more) interesting the second time around.   I feel like the same applies to other pieces of art (including but not limited to movies, television shows, and songs).  Although I don’t reread books very often, there are plenty of movies that I have seen multiple times, as well as many shows that I have watched for second or third times.  I feel that with every subsequent viewing, I become more and more literate with the specific piece at hand.  Because of this, I am able to appreciate these pieces for more than just their surface value.  I specifically remember this concept in regards to the movie Fight Club.  The first time I watched the movie, I spent the entire time following the plot, and not paying attention to some of the subtle details that the director placed into the film.  Upon second and third viewings, however, I focused less on the plot, which gave me the ability to appreciate the movie as more than just a story.  It went from being a sequence of events into a full movie, a full art form.

Now for some questions:  Firstly, what are some things that you that you have reread/rewatched?  Has subsequent encounters with this work changed your viewpoint on it?  Finally, does the act of rereading or rewatching help to develop literacy, or does your literacy level at determine what you get out of a work?  In other words, do you think that it was Akinnaso’s rereading of Animal Farm that helped him be able to critically discuss the novel, or did it have more to do with the level of literacy development of Akinasso as a whole (ie. Through school and other readings) that made him able to critically understand the novel on a deeper level?

***Warning: This post was written inside the mind of someone (very inside the mind) and then placed on paper. One may need more clarification in which case please feel free to comment and someone will respond with more coherent and understandable thoughts***

As I read through the different texts for Tuesday I found myself continuous stopping to ask myself, “would this make a good post?” Most of the time I found myself saying no. Though everything I read was interesting and important I felt that every time I tried to write a post it got boring and was rehashing the same things that were said in the text. So I’ve been sitting at my computer for the last hour writing, deleting, reading, and rewriting when I suddenly thought of what I wanted to write about. The Process. I am going to define this as: the way in which you read and think to be able to create (and for the purposes of this class create a piece of writing).

Now, this is a strange topic. And I am sure you might think that this isn’t something that has to do with literacy but I think it does. I mean it does already hold the key components of the definition of literacy: reading, writing, and thinking/understanding. For me my most success moments with literacy is during a specific process that I follow to a tee. For me (for the most part), it doesn’t change based on the type of writing I am doing. I’m a poet, so I tend to think outside of the box, but unlike the stereotype I don’t hang out in cool coffee shops with underground art hanging on the walls. So here it goes “the process” more specifically, My Process:

1) I sit in an academic setting. I can’t hang out in my comfortable bed or sit on the couch where I watch movies with my boyfriend. If I do, I run the risk of writing one of the worst pieces of my life that probably talks about either my cats or my main squeeze neither of which should be included in a good piece.

2) If I am writing a piece on a specific bit of text I can not take notes. My idea has to pop off the page and inspire me to write something. Most of us want to write something we have an actual opinion on and that is hard in academic writing because not everything we read is going to hold some deep meaning. However, if I read the text and have a moment that makes me stop for a minute and actually think instead of simply sight reading it is usually a good place to start.

2a) This doesn’t always happen unfortunately. So in the odd chance that nothing comes to me at all I do this thing where I read the text again but in the mind of my teacher or mother or someone other than me that I hold in high regards. I try my hardest to think like them while doing so and most usually something else will pop up that will be interesting to them and so I will talk to them about in hopes to have a positive reflection on the text and then write on that.

2b) Even that will sometimes fail though. Which leaves me to no other option but talking to whoever assigned said piece. Most times they work with you to help you find an interest and write the best piece you can on a not so hot topic.

2c) But if for some reason I have an unbelievable horrific experience with that said person I go to my last and final resort. I sit and take notes on an unbelievably boring topic and knock out a half-assed paper. (Sorry Professor Vee, I have full faith that I will never use this method in your class though)

3) No music. This is a rule that is unbreakable. I will not play music, do you know why? Because I play my favorite song (Giants – Bear Hands) and then three hours later I could tell you everything that has ever been written about the band and the song. It is called being sidetracked and it is the arch enemy of anyone who writes for a living.

4) One hour. I spend at least one hour reading or writing specifically on whatever it is I’m trying to accomplish. For example this post. I have done nothing but focus on the readings for Tuesday and writing this post. I didn’t check my Facebook or text my BFF’s.

5) The last step of my process is writing. I have to at least try to write and see if anything comes out worth keeping. If I don’t write anything how do I know nothing worth writing about was out there.

So for me that is usually how I end up writing a piece that I am proud of. One that I think shows my education is being put to good use. So what I am curious about is what everyone else’s process is. Some of you may not have one. All of this leads up to my bigger question. Do you think that these processes or lack there of have helped or hurt your relationship with literacy? Do you think that if we were to teach children building blocks to “writing well” it would be beneficial?

My own response to this reflects on the five paragraph essay. I grew up learning this process as a building block to writing a good essay. Guess what? I hate that method now and refrain from it as often as possible, however, my process which I described above greatly reflects that certain steps lead to better outcomes in my writing. I am driven by following rules which is why I have created this process for myself which has helped me further my relationship with literacy by creating great pieces of writing. However, others may feel differently. What do you think? Are you a law abiding citizen or an outlaw in the world of literacy.

I saw The Hundred-Foot Journey this afternoon. I thought immediately of this blog, and it took quite a bit out of me to resist the urge to begin writing this post on my phone during the movie. Why is that?

First, a look at DreamWorks’ own description of the film:

A stimulating triumph over exile, blossoming with passion and heart, with marjoram and madras, it is a portrayal of two worlds colliding and one boy’s drive to find the comfort of home, in every pot, wherever he may be.

“Triumph over exile,” “two worlds colliding”, and “marjoram and madras”—this is ostensibly one set of descriptors for the preceding film—one enacting the particulars of post-colonial-type cultural criticism in a way that manages still to reinforce a solipsistic cultural dynamic. I don’t want to do that!

I’ve written some already about literacy and feelings, working primarily from my personal experience and with concepts of intimacy, dexterity, and endurance. Referring to The Hundred-Foot Journey and literacies of cooking, I’d like to frame each concept in some more detail.

Continue reading Deux ou trois étoiles →

I’m sure there are plenty of instances before second grade where I read and wrote stories. However, the most vivid and earliest memory I have is from second grade, so I’ll use that. I had to write my own version of a story from our large anthology about a magic pot that multiplied everything that went inside. I remember being so excited to create my own story based off what we read. It was done entirely in class and we had special paper with a fancy space for a title and we were allowed to write our stories however we wanted. I remember thinking my story was fantastic and I’m sure I received a fine grade. It was put in our second grade portfolio of work and I happened upon it maybe five years later. Reading over it again I realized how many details from the actual story I had “borrowed” and used as my own. I wondered if I truly thought those details were of my own invention or if I knew I was taking them almost directly from the story. As a first attempt at using a template to create my own story I’m sure I just wanted it to be as good as I believed the original to be, and what better way than to use ideas directly from the story? Obviously now this would never be fine (people fail classes for doing this) but as an eight year old with a newly developing literary imagination I’m sure it was just fine. We work with what literacy we have at the time and grow from each experience.

When I was four, I could “read” pretty well.  However, when I say “read” I don’t mean in the normal way.  Ever since I was a little kid, my parents would read Thomas the Tank Engine and Angus books.  I specifically remember some of the Angus books that were read to me when I was a little kid.  For those who don’t know, Angus was a little Scottie dog who constantly went on adventures.  In retrospect, Angus didn’t have very good owners, because he was constantly either getting in trouble or getting lost.  My parents would read these stories to me so many times that I eventually ended up memorizing all of the words in the stories.  I got to the point that I would “read” these pictures books back to my parents straight from memory.   I didn’t know how to actually read, but I was fantastic at “reading” these Angus books back to my parents.   Fortunately, I learned quickly how to read things that I hadn’t just memorized, and am now an avid reader.  My parents still tell me about the millions of times that they read these same picture books to me, and I can now look back on those times and say they were my first experience with literacy.

An interest in horses spurred my interest in reading.

When I was six a drive-in movie theater about an hour from my house started a weekly event where they would show children’s movies from a few years prior for only a dollar per person. The first film they planned to show was an adaptation of Anna Sewell’s novel Black Beauty. Having the common girl-hood obsession with horses, I was adamant about seeing it. My parents were adamant about not driving an hour from home for a picture show.

In order to encourage the trip, I struck a deal. That school year I was behind in my reading classes, and I proposed that if I could read Black Beauty, by myself, before the movie’s premiere a month away, they would take me to see it. Each night my parents would give me a half hour to read to one of them; it was slow going at first, but eventually I did finish the book. It was past the month mark, but my parents appreciated the effort I put into the project and took me to the movie.

As I remember, I was underwhelmed with the feature.

Wanting to relive the story the way I liked it, I read through Black Beauty again over the next few weeks. Being able to have my own version of that story, one I liked better than other people’s tellings, inspired me to find new stories and create personal versions of those as well.

It wasn’t the most noble entry into the LitLife, but bargaining for a movie ticket forced me to recognize my own insight and explore the personal relationships I have to that stories I read.

My parents have told me that I started to read on my own just before I turned three. I called my mom this evening to be sure, because I don’t remember how I learned to read or when, and I have no memory of a time when I couldn’t read or didn’t. Here’s a shortened (and significantly less cloying) version of the story that my mom tells:

I found you sitting on the floor reading one of your books [aloud] to yourself. … I thought that maybe you had memorized it, because we would read to you all the time. I asked you to pick out some other books and read them to me, and you did—word for word. So finally, I took you to the library to pick out some new books that you wouldn’t have ever seen before. When we got home with them, you dumped them on to the floor in your room and began to read them [aloud] to me.

I’m always skeptical of this story. I asked her some questions to determine more exactly what she means by “reading.” Was I reading word-for-word, or was I just describing the pictures in similar language to what was written? (Word-for-word.) Was I sounding words out? (Sometimes.) How did I learn to do that? (Not sure.) Did you teach me? (No.) Did dad? (Let me ask him.  … No.)

And she added, “John, these were easy books, like Word Bird.”

At least in my experience, learning has always been a process of learning to “feel,” which I mean in at least two distinct ways here. I mean it to refer to what is sometimes called the “art” of a subject (as opposed to the “science”), where you can improvise because (and only because) you’ve internalized the parameters and because you love what you’re doing. But I’m also talking about kinesthetically feeling emotions, words, and ideas. Although I cannot be sure, I think that this is how I learned to read (e.g. what is this word like when you hear it or say it yourself? is it dull or scintillating?) Now, still, I have very specific ideas about how things, reading and writing especially, should and do feel (as sensations) to me. And feeling (in both the emotional and motor senses) is really my primary instrument for reading and writing—critically and creatively.

I have no memories of ever learning to read; I only ever remember reading. As a child I was an avid reader. Other children my age would consider reading a chore or would only read to gain points from the reading program the school offered. Because of my genuine love of reading and books, I was often labeled as the “weird, quiet kid.” I would visit the library every day after school and spend hours reading entire shelves in the children’s section. One day when I was six, the librarian suggested I try a book from the teen section of the library titled Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Soon after, I had read all the Harry Potter books that had been published by then. However, this experience led me away from the children’s section and into the rest of the library where more books awaited to be discovered. This transition out of the children’s books was an important milestone for me because it introduced me to a greater variety of writing and new authors. I read different styles of literature ranging from Shakespearean tragedies to Jules Verne’s fictional adventures. With books I was able to travel anywhere without leaving my house, and I absolutely loved that. Literacy for me then became a way of exploring new worlds. As I grew older, literacy became a way to learn about and understand new ideas and views as well.

I don’t really remember much from learning how to read, but I do know that I’ve always enjoyed reading because it’s a very private experience. When you pick up a book, you are for all intents and purposes, the only person reading that specific copy at that specific time, and your interpretations of the text are private if you wish to keep them so. Unlike a movie, which you see in a theater with 50+ other people, a book is personal. While I always valued reading for that experience, I never saw the advantages of using reading, and literacy in general, as a way of connecting your ideas to a larger audience until I was in high school.

I took Speech class during the summer, because it was only 3 weeks instead of a whole semester. It was essentially your typical speech class expect for one project, which is to date the best assignment I’ve ever had to do. Students were told to bring in one of our favorite children’s books, and to read it to the class. While this seemed like the most basic assignment—to read a book we didn’t even write, full of simple sentences and pictures—but we were being graded on our ability to convey the love and excitement we felt about that book to an audience of people who were hearing the story for the first time. I chose Dinosaur Bob, easily one of my favorite books of all time, and if you haven’t read it you should, but that’s not the point. Watching my peers reading books that they loved, and seeing how much fun everyone was having made me realize how much of a gift literacy is. It isn’t just useful because we can read texts that transport us to different places or make us laugh, it’s useful because we can use this ability to read to share the stories we love with those who haven’t heard them yet, or who don’t have the ability to read themselves.