Example: Literacy Narravative- See Spot Run

By: Fontana Smith on June 28, 2016

One of the very first memories I have with my Dad involved his first book. I want to say I was around 3 or 4, because I hadn’t yet started school. “Fontana, come here baby girl,” he called from his room. Curious, I stopped playing with my little plastic kitchenette and made my way into his bedroom. “What is it Daddy?” I asked at the door. I took note of the beat-up old box, old pictures, and other miscellaneous memorabilia scattered on his huge bed. I could barely see over it on my tip-toes. “Come here, I want to show you something.” I skipped over to him and he picked me up putting me on his lap. “What did you want to show me Daddy?” I ogled at all the treasures before me, mostly things I’d never seen before. “This,” He placed a thick, yellow, worn, and frayed booking my lap. “This is the first book I ever learned to read.” Apprehensive, I crinkled my nose. “It smells funny.” My Dad laughed, “It’s old and it’s been put up for a long time. I want you to have it.” I flipped it open. The pictures were not as pretty as my Little Mermaid book, but it did have pictures. I remember thinking not many thick books have pictures maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “Want me to read you some?” I nodded furiously. I loved being read to. “The New Home,” he started, “See Spot run,” his smile was ear to ear.

            Looking back that memory probably changed my entire outlook on books. They didn’t have to be small, new, and be a story tale to be interesting. As I started elementary school, I was frequently told how smart I was. One day my assistant kindergarten teacher asked me to sit down with her at the computer while the other kids went to recess. My immediate first thought was that I was in trouble. “No you’re not in trouble,” she reassured me, “I just want you to tell me a story, about something in your life, can you do that?” “Sure,” I said after a pause, “I think I can do that.” I thought about the “See Spot run” story, it was now one of my favorites. I decided I should tell her a story of my pet. I told her a story of my fat cat, Bobby. My Dad had affectionately named that because he was a bobtail. “I love to watch him play with his ball, and when Daddy isn’t watching I give him milk, but I’m not supposed to,” I said shamefully putting my head down. She laughed. “Are you going to tell him?” I asked. “No, I’m going I’m writing this story for a contest in your name, I think you could win,” she said typing away on her computer. “Oh,” I said like I knew what she was talking about. As it would turn out, I did win. I won for Kindergarten in the entire state of Georgia.

            After the contest I was accepted into the gifted program for my elementary school. I don’t remember the exact point that I transitioned from picture books to actual books, but I can tell you the first non-picture book I truly enjoyed reading. My school had implemented a program that “required reading books” on a point system that tested you on the computer to see your aptitude after reading. By 4th grade I was only doing the bare minimum to not get scolded by teachers. The shorter the books I could find the better, it seemed like such a waste of time. Then one fateful day another gifted student walked in with one of the biggest books I had ever seen a fourth grader carry. “What in the world is that?” I asked her. “It’s called Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. It’s really good, you should read it.” She handed it to me, “My mom has a copy so you can borrow mine.” I was in shock. First, I was scared of my own ability to read after only reading short books for so long. Secondly, her mom read it. In what world could adults and children both share a love of the same book? The Wizarding world of Harry Potter, that’s how. It came alive like a movie, I devoured page after page of the written word. I was hooked, no picture book could compare to my own imagination.

            Until recently I had quite the slump in writing and reading. My reasons for not wanting to take an English class was endless. I hadn’t taken an English since High School. Great, I thought, more papers on things no one cares about and on books no one reads unless forced. I was incredibly pleased and surprised that we were actually writing on recent topics. It helped me rekindle my connection with myself and others. I started to pay more attention to current event and I’m striving to make an impact in my community. I’ve also started enjoying reading and writing more, especially to my children.

            As I write, It’s almost midnight now. I waited until the last minute because I didn’t know how to start or where I would go with my story. “Alright, bedtime. T.V. off, come ‘on babies. Let’s go,” endless whining starts followed by the usual. “We aren’t tired; we don’t want to go to be yet,” they say in almost unison. “I know but it’s bed time. Do you want a quick bedtime story before Mommy goes to work on her paper?” “Yes!” My little boy says, “Let’s go pick one,” my daughter skips to their room. “Okie dokie, go get one.” They head over to their well-stocked book shelf and weigh the pros and cons of each book. “This one,” my son says. “No Beano,” his nickname, my daughter replies, “This one; we haven’t read this one.” I’m lying on my sons bed eyes closed waiting for their choice. “Ok!” he says and they both jump in my lap. Rubbing my eyes and sitting up I look down at the old, yellow, smelly book in my lap. “The New Our New Friends,” I read in almost a whisper. “Dandaddy, left it for us last visit, he said you would read it to us,” my daughter breaks my silence. “Did he?” I flipped the pages to the first story, wiped away a few tears, and started to read, “The New Home.” My smile was ear to ear, “See Spot Run…”

References

Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Bloomsberry, 1997. Book.

Sharp, Zerna Addis. ""See Spot Run"." Time, Multiple Authors Will Fix in Final Due to. The New Our New Friend. Addison-Weasley Educational Publishers Inc, 1951. 7. Book.