Literacy Narrative

For as long as I can recall, my life had been absorbed almost entirely by books and my books in turn were absorbed into my life. My older sister’s room was lined with shelves made from wood because my mom wouldn’t spend money on a bookshelf that would eventually run out of space. I would stare at these books in awe and curiosity; How could someone read so much, hadn’t her eyes fallen off by now? When will I be old enough to read these books? After staring, I would climb on a chair or the bed and pull a book from the shelf and skim through it. Perhaps this atmosphere of literature is what fueled my love for reading although, numerous individuals have contributed to this love. People that have provided me with an outlet to discuss literature and aided in developing my refined taste. This allowed me to alter my selection of literature and find what I describe as both my escape and meaning of life.

Starting from the earliest years in elementary school, I loved reading. Excelling at reading, far beyond my peers as reading was not a skill I had to hone, it was a skill that honed itself through my devotion to exploring new genres and authors. Although, my reading scores were the highest amongst the class, I lacked in mathematics and fell terribly behind my classmates. This relationship with math also strengthened my bond for reading because reading became a sort of escape from the struggles of math. My first and second grade teacher, Ms. Miahellescue was possibly one of the first people that realized my obsession with books and provided me with numerous novels throughout those two years that hurled me into the abyss of literature with a force that continues to push and guide me today.

During middle school, everything shifted in my reading. As I was going through life’s most arduous stages, my reading was developing and transforming alongside me. In sixth grade I discovered the infamous Percy Jackson & the Olympians which led me into the world of fantasy. Whenever I was feeling overwhelmed with life’s constant struggles, I looked to Rick Riordan for relief and sustenance. Soon after, I met a young librarian at my school who could not reach the top of her own shelves and instantly formed a bond with her. Ms. Hanshew was one of the teachers that had the most freedom in our school, she decorated her library every season and had bean bag chairs. She recommended the series, The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare which grasped my attention almost instantly and would continue to be my favorite series even six years after. Month after month, I would read each book in the series and go upstairs to Ms. Hanshew to discuss the elements and characters of the novels. Soon after, I had began reading the prequels as well and continue devouring Clare’s phenomenal work today. In my last year of middle school, my english teacher, Ms. Cohen had realized my fervent reading habits. She suggested I begin reading classics that would challenge my mental capacity because she knew I was capable of greatness. Therefore, I had begun reading classics such as The Hobbit and John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath. Reading classic at a young age allowed me to enter high school with a refined taste of literature and allowed me to converse about literature with both adults and students effortlessly due to the vast arsenal of literature I had accumulated.

The first few months in a new school were terrible for me, I lacked the necessary social skills to communicate effectively amongst my peers and make new friends. I would sit in the library during lunch time and look around, once again I was surrounded by books and that brought me the comfort I required. My first friend was the librarian (befitting of a bookworm), Ms. Crittenden who could be compared to a drug dealer as she provided me with my drugs, books. A drug dealer usually knows what their customers desire and continues providing them with drugs so they can return. Ms. Crittenden did exactly this and better, she introduced me to a genre that I was already aware of however, lacked knowledge of, literary fiction. The first novel that she recommended was The Road by Cormac McCarthy, recipient of the Pulitzer prize. The bleakness and despair in The Road paved the way for the next novels I would read.

Afterwards I would ask Ms. Crittenden, “Is it sad?” every time I would check out a new book from her library. One day she asked me if I had ever cried while reading a book and I had replied no and felt puzzled at the idea of crying due to a book. That day was when she handed me my favorite novel and most likely the longest novel I read excluding, Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace. When I read A Little Life, I had cried my eyes out on the train ride to school and understood Ms. Crittenden’s sadness as I had fallen in love with the characters. Hanya Yanagihara’s ability to vividly depict his characters and form a bond between the readers and his work is uncanny and unlike any author. Soon after, I joined two book clubs, both led by Ms. Crittenden. In these book clubs I was able to elaborate and express my love for books amongst others who also enjoyed reading. I met librarians from all around New York City and authors from almost every sector of life. High school was a time of literary flourishment and discovery for me.

My journey of literature continues to evolve as I grow and explore new aspects of life and literature. Although, I have read the works of numerous authors, there’s still plenty of unknowns for me and even now I still enjoy reading. My curiosity of literature and the world was ignited years ago, by people that I cherish deeply. These people were able to plant the seeds of imagination and allowed me to search beyond my surroundings, beyond what I already knew to learn more through literature. They also allowed for me to find one of my most significant coping habits that has allowed me to thrive despite the constant pain of growing.