Personal Literacy Narrative 2nd Draft

          As a freshman in college who is only in his second semester, my future aspirations are not so concrete. Although I’m interested in the field of anthropology, I have no idea whether I will continue to dedicate my studies to anthropology or what other career possibilities may come of it. For all I know, by this time next year, I could be working in a hair salon with my best friend. A few distinct experiences made me realize that wherever I end up in life, there will be a constant need for me to write, and despite the many external forces that demand me to write, I demand myself to write for my own personal benefit and experience.

            The best way to describe who I am is best done with a quote from an unknown author; “Fake people have an image to maintain. Real people just don’t give a sh@!.” I am a very transparent, simple person, and you can learn everything there is to know about me in just a few hours. I grew up in Sacramento but have spent much of my younger years outdoors, so I have a fierce appreciation for nature and preserved wild lands. The pristine, grand beauty of the outdoors makes me appreciate life, reinvigorates my spirit, and motivates me to pursue the opportunities life has to offer.

            Along with my love of the outdoors as a young lad, I also was an avid reader. These two interests went hand in hand often because the books I read were epic fantasies that took place in undiscovered, wild places. Authors like Terry Goodkind, Patrick Carmen, J.R.R. Tolkien, Christopher Paolini and Robert Jordan were all important people in helping me learn to read, become a literate person, and expand my imagination.

            I used to think that knowing how to read was all the skill you needed to have on your tool belt for language and literacy until I met my junior high English teachers. I mean what was all this crap about asking me what the theme was? Why did I need to relate an author's story to my life or society? I truly didn't care what implications George Orwell was making in his book 1984 and that certainly didn't make it any easier to write about it! If I was going to read, I wanted to be entertained and swept away. Writing served no purpose to my taste in literature because fantasy does not relate to reality. It was very hard for my English teachers to get me to produce any decent original writing, but they were patient.

            Before I learned how to write English compositions properly, I discovered how to write and reflect for my own personal growth. It was a beautiful spring afternoon in 2008, and I decided to take a hiking adventure by myself at the San Juan Rapid Trails. I was never a very observant person, and always oblivious to details. Needless to say, I got lost very quickly. I had no idea how to back track to where I started, and every trail seemed to lead me further in to a spider web. I began to hyperventilate, have racing thoughts and run frantically to wherever my legs would take me. I was sure I would be one of those kids on the milk cartons “MISSING CHILD.”

            Eventually, I stumbled onto a secluded bank of the river which I doubt I could ever find again. It had been a few hours since I was lost, so dehydration began to take effect. Being so isolated and slightly delirious, I had nothing else to do except reflect. Besides thinking about how stupid it was to be out there without a cell phone, I really took an analytic standpoint on my life. I discovered things about myself that I never noticed before like why my habits, the way I interact with certain people, and I realized what was ultimately important to me and what parts of my life were only temporary.

            After a group of drifting rafters came by, they let me float down with them to the next park along the river. My troubles were over, but I never forgot how in-touch with myself that day. I wrote down my internal observations to keep that memory preserved, and every now and then I participate in the same internal reflection without the falling off the face of the earth part. It helps me be more confident and sure of myself and the decisions I make. It also allows me to make a census of where I need to focus my energy and positive vibes and where I can cut out the poisons that try to invade my life.

            After that experience, I became a much better writer, but I still didn't make the connection of why literature was so important to society. I could read required texts and understand what they were about, but not why I needed to know what they all about. It wasn't until I read Candide by Voltaire that my perception on literature changed. Although his style of writing was hard to follow, I was able to grasp the satire that Voltaire used to ridicule the policies, beliefs and values of his time, and he used the most outrageous situations as metaphors for events that happened in his time. I guess it takes some humor for me to pay attention to something, but once I read that book, I was able to see how the culture and history are reflected within every author’s composition. Aside from what its purpose is, writing is a lasting impression of the social hierarchy of needs of humanity.

            Literacy and I are inseparable now. I can't go a day without reading the news, a magazine article, or an assigned reading, but no matter what it is, I always feel enriched afterward. Knowing how to put my response to pen and paper or key board and word doc will always be necessary throughout my lifetime. Whether it's writing a research assignment, a reflective journal, a love letter or a fiery resignation statement to an arrogant boss, I will always be happy to be literate.