Christian Best

Robert Arnold
UWRT 1101
10 September 2015
Literacy Narrative
When an individual thinks about what it means to be literate, they automatically think
about being able to read and write. That isnt a completely wrong assumption. Being able to read
and write does classify a person as literate. But there is also another form of being literate.
Becoming literate in a subject can also mean becoming knowledgeable and educated in a
particular subject. If a person doesnt have any hobbies, doesnt participate in any sports, and
really doesnt get involved in many extracurricular activities, what subject can they possibly
become literate in? Being that I am that person, I can tell you: that person becomes literate in
ones self.
Becoming literate in ones self sounds like an easy task but it can be quite a strenuous
journey. Its not a journey that everyone embarks on because its not just about knowing your
own background and history. Becoming literate in yourself is about getting to know yourself,
learning to be confident, and believing that you can take on the journey of life no matter how
hard it gets. Everyone doesnt have the strength to do these things. Some individuals never learn
who they truly are, inside and out. It takes time, facing the truth, and having faith to really
discover yourself. And thats exactly what it took for me.

I should first begin by explaining the person I was before explaining the person I became.
Growing up I was a quiet child that never caused trouble. Picture a little girl with lots of hair
bows and ponytails. This little girl would wake up every morning, grab her pacifier, watch a
couple episodes of Dora the Explorer, and go hide in the kitchen cabinet until her mom came and
found her. That little girl was who I was, I was extremely quiet and shy. My mother and Dora the
Explorer were the only two people I felt comfortable talking to. I rarely spoke to my dad and
older brother, even though we all resided together. That shy and quiet little kid grew into a very
shy and emotionally detached teenager.
My teenage years were the most difficult for me. My major problem was dealing with my
emotions, or lack thereof, and the fact that I enjoyed being alone. Whenever I tell people I was
emotionally detached they usually jump to the conclusion that I was depressed and sad, but that
wasnt the case at all. I wasnt depressed or lonely, I was just very nonchalant and very bad at
forming emotional connections with people. You know how some men tell their sons that it is
considered weak to cry and show people your emotional side? That was very similar to my own
personal mindset. I felt when people publicly showed their emotions, they exposed themselves
and showed themselves as weak. Therefore showing emotions, feeling empathy, and having
sympathy were completely forbidden for me. Having this mindset made forming friendships and
relationships really difficult.
Because I couldnt naturally form friendships with people, I began forcing friendships
into place. This took place during middle school, this was the point where I really lost touch with
who I was. I kept conforming to fit in with the crowd. If everyone was wearing a certain brand, I
had that exact same brand. If everyone was making fun of a certain person, I was right behind
them laughing. I knew my actions werent always right but I desired to be accepted. I thought I

needed to be loved by these people because I thought they were my friends. I quickly learned the
difference between friends and social associates around December of 2010.
The process of learning who I was and who I wanted to become began after that
December. December 11, 2010 is the day my mother told me my grandfather had died. Have you
ever had your feelings hurt? Have you ever been punched so hard that it felt like your breath has
exited your body? You ever stubbed your toe and you felt really angry? You ever felt really
frustrated because you couldnt have something that you wanted so desperately? That hurt, that
breathlessness, that anger, that frustration, that is every emotion that coursed through me when I
heard those words, your grandfather just died.
My grandfather was more than just a grandfather to me. My grandfather was my
motivation, my encouragement, my reason to keep going, my heart, he became everything to me.
My grandfather was the first man I ever loved and trusted. I never imagined I would live in a
world without him. He is the reason I stand on the ground of a college university today. He kept
me striving in school and in life. He taught me that it was okay to have goals and to reach those
goals. Losing him made me feel like my world was crashing around me and I just had to stand
and watch it crumble at my feet. At this point I felt I needed a shoulder to cry on, so I turned to
my friends. Except my friends werent there for me. The one moment, actually the only
moment, I needed them they left me to deal with life alone. Thats the moment I realized that
maybe I was better off alone and the process began.
I have a big heart. I am very caring. I live to help other people. I am terribly wise for my
age. I am overly emotional. I am extremely corny and silly. I am terribly clumsy and a potential
hazard to myself. I have the most obnoxious laugh and I usually laugh in the most inappropriate
moments. I believe hugs can fix everything even though I still guard my heart from the outside

world. I can be very annoying but also easily annoyed. Im very sweet until someone makes me
mad.
Now you must wonder how I can easily recall these major characteristics. Alone time is
the answer. When I say alone Im not referring to the padded-white cell, solitary alone. Im
referring to the alone time that makes an individual become in tune with their mind, body, and
soul. Imagine a 95 pound, 13 year old girl in khakis with a very bushy ponytail. That girl never
went out of her way to talk to other people but she was still a friendly person. She would spend
most of her time getting lost in a book. She started spending all of her extra school time in the
library, just so she wouldnt have to interact with other people. She would blast music through
her headphones at any given moment of the day. Loner, hermit, lone wolf, reclusive, that became
her new identity, meaning that became my new identity.
I fell in love with that new identity because it made me fall in love with the person I was.
I loved being alone. Being alone taught me to make decisions on my own. It also became the
moment in the day where I would think, reflect, and evaluate. Whether I was thinking about my
day, the personality of a new character in a novel, or if I was inventing fantasy scenarios in my
mind, my alone time became my favorite time of the day.
Within those hours of the day, listening to music, reading books, and dancing in circles in
the middle of my bedroom floor is how I learned who I was. Reading about how Percy Jackson
could learn to love and forgive a Greek God, who was also his father that he had never met,
made me realize that I was compassionate and sympathetic. Listening to India Arie sing about
not shaving her legs and remembering to love herself no matter what, made me realize that I still
love myself whether or not I have the acceptance of others. Trying to match the lyrics and
aggression of Kayne West yelling about how he is a monster, made me realize that I am

definitely not meant to be a rapper. Choreographing my own personal dance while Destinys
Child pants and screams about losing their breath, made me realize that I have the worst
coordination and I possess no rhythm at all. Dreaming and fantasizing about coming home to a
husband, three very cheerful children, and living in an insanely beautiful house, made me realize
that one day I did want to experience being in love and sharing a life with someone special.
Being alone wasnt depressing and sad, being alone was never lonely, being alone was
therapeutic, amazing, and the absolute best thing I could have ever learned to do.