Literacy Narrative: The Role of Books During My Adolescence
Not all that long ago, as I was sitting at my computer and mindlessly scrolling
through Pinterest, I came upon a humorous pin that made me chuckle to myself and,
without being conscious of it, I started to nod my head. My husband looked at me
and asked what I found funny. It was a simple text box that said, “You know you
were a nerd as a kid when the worst punishment was not being allowed to read”.
I was a rather well behaved child, considering I was the fourth of a total of
eight. There were times though, such as when there was actual bloodshed or I
disappeared for hours without warning, when my mother would become furious
with me and pile on the chores. I would be assigned to scrub the thirteen wooden
stairs that led to the basement, or to sort out what seemed like hundreds of greeting
cards into the occasion they were for, or to even take every rug we owned and hang
it on the clothesline to beat all the dirt out. As a young adolescent girl, it seemed like
the endless list of chores was not the actual punishment, but in that young mind of
mine, I truly saw the real punishment as being kept away from my books. As soon as
I was done doing a chore, I would try to escape to a quiet place. I would sneak off to
the neighboring park, my bedroom closet, or even the bathtub. Sometimes I would
think that I could outsmart my mother and hide in my parent’s bedroom because
she’d never think to find me there. (It never worked.) I stick my nose in my book
and pray that my mother wouldn’t notice me missing so that I would be able to
finish and then quickly start on the next one.
I handled the emotional roller coaster of my adolescence by loosing myself in
books. I loved sharing the woes of my life with a strong, young female lead of a
romance or adventure or historical fiction book. The books that I read as a young
girl have molded me into the person I am today. Today, I have a love of history
because of the fictional historic novels I read. I read Gone With the Wind by
Margaret Mitchell with a fury, and I still think back on that book when I watch a
program on TV about the Civil War. I devoured Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Lewis
time and time again. My mother remembers a time after I read Ella Enchanted
where I took everything anyone said literally, and I became obedient to a fault, just
like the character in the book. There was a Jane Austen period where I ran through
Pride and Prejudice, Emma, and Sense and Sensibility and convinced myself that
somewhere among the gaggle of lanky, awkward, soprano boys in my middle school
class that there was a Mr. Darcy-type boy waiting to discover how my exuberant and
rebellious, but good, spirit was perfect for him, despite the fact that I was just as
lanky and much, much more awkward.
I also remember reading books that didn’t necessary leave an impression on
me because of the story, but they stick with me to this day because of what was
occurring in my life at the time I read them. I was reading an Animorphs book by K.
A. Applegate when I was told that my grandfather had passed away. I don’t
remember anything about the book itself, but I can clearly recall the picture of the
boy on the front cover changing into an eagle. After my dad told me that Grandpa
Jim had died, I stared at that picture until it became a watery blob, and that’s when I
broke down and bawled until I fell asleep.
I’ve recently started to reread the books of my adolescence and childhood.
I’ve started doing this because I began a children’s literature class at my local
community college. Every time my textbook mentions a book I remember from my
childhood, I am obsessed with finding it and reliving the cherished story. Also, I have
thoroughly enjoyed learning about the importance of children’s literature in a young
person’s life. I know that it was one of the most important things in my childhood,
and the more books I reread from when I was a child, the more I realize what these
books taught me when I was younger, although I may not have realized it at the
time. Literature continues to play an important part in my life, especially now that I
have children of my own. My children are still very young, but they are read to
throughout the day, everyday, and have developed their own love of books. I can
only wait with eager anticipation to see what the books of their childhoods will
teach them.