Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Maddison Craig
English 1102.073
February 7, 2011
literary sponsor is someone who taught me what I know today. However, to evaluate a
personal literary history, you must first travel back in time to the days you remember first
learning to read. My mom will never let me forget the first time she knew I was going to
be a bookworm. My father had an important business client over for dinner, and me being
the cute little three year-old I was, the guest insisted on putting me to bed. Overwhelmed
with joy, I couldn’t wait to lead him upstairs to show off my newfound skill of reading
my own bedtime stories. A few minutes later my mom tip-toed upstairs to peek in on how
settled I was getting, and promptly walked into quite an interesting scene. Just picture
this: An important business client sitting uncomfortably next to a little three year-old girl
reading “Why Boys and Girls are Different,” quite fluently explaining the birds and bees.
Needless to say, I was “quite the genius” despite the awkward moments I was blissfully
unaware of, but it made quite a funny joke for business meetings to come. While my
mother may have been the first person to teach me to read, my literacy spans teachers and
educators, Army personnel, and technology social influences through your peers, each as
When I was just an infant, my mother first began sharing her love of literature
with me; and while I may not have been alert enough to know it at the time, her love of
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books would be passed down to me as if it were genetic. By the time I was two, I could
recite “Green Eggs and Ham” verbatim, and could soon-after read it incase I got lost in
the long recitation process. For example, eventually I could see “Sam I Am” and know
that he was the pesky critter with the Green Eggs and Ham. The rhythm of the book
included many “I will not[‘s]” especially the famous, “I will not eat green eggs and ham,
I will not do it Sam I Am.” After the rhythm was down, it was as easy as pie to remember
the rest. My mom swears up and down that I was probably the smartest kid on the block,
and her positive reinforcement had me reading the “Nancy Drew” book series in the first
grade.
Much like my mother, the instructors I had through public elementary, middle,
and high school dramatically influence my writing skills as well as exploring new realms
of the book world. In elementary school, when you reached the fourth grade, you had a
kindergarten mentor you had to help teach to read, and up until that point, I had never
realized that there were other people learning to read better and writer better just like me.
In middle school, I had a woman named Mrs. Forbes as my “G/T” seventh grade English
teacher. (Gifted and Talented education classes in Texas were designed as colligate prep
classes all the way back to elementary school. I learned to write a check in that program
when I was in the fifth grade: a skill many college kids lack). She assigned books like “A
Tale of Two Cities” and “Watership Down” to us. Mrs. Forbes, unlike any teacher before
her, required us to write. For the first time in English classes, I remember receiving a
paper back from a teacher that was actually graded for voice instead of content and
grammar. For the first time in English classes, I remember being frustrated in the steps it
took to develop my writing further, beyond correct spelling and punctuation, to find the
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true voice and meaning behind my writing. By the time I reached high-school I was very
prepared for what actually college prep AP (Advanced Placement) courses would throw
at me. “Frankenstein” was something I could read and process before breakfast. “Native
Son” was something I had done for an evening’s dinner, with just a play or two by
Shakespeare for dessert. I learned to write formal papers, inquiries and persuasive essays,
and informal little jaunts across a notebook page. Within public school, I developed most
By the time I reached college, I was prepared for what English had to throw at
me. What I wasn’t prepared for was what life had been holding behind its back. A
baseball bat with the words “US Military” emblazoned on the side knocked me off of my
feet as I stepped off of the bus landing at Army Basic Training at Fort Leonard Wood,
Missouri. I wasn’t prepared for the vernacular or the discipline; and I sure wasn’t
prepared for the level of education other people had received that I was expected to work
with. There were people who couldn’t do simple math, or even memorize a simple
repetitive Soldier’s Creed. The environment at Basic Training is such a melting pot, that
it is designed to disintegrate any and all personal beliefs or agendas to form one whole
cohesive unit. By the end of Basic, I was no longer worried about how the girl standing
behind me would probably spell “covering” without the letter ‘G’, but I did know that no
matter what, she would be covering my back if we were deployed together. After 15
weeks in sub-zero temperatures and several feet of snow, I was well-versed by Drill
Sergeants and other soldiers alike on the ways of the Army and the societies around mine
that I hadn’t seen before. Suddenly, we all knew the same tactical movements and
acronyms, so it didn’t matter if we made it through high school. Suddenly we were all on
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even playing fields, and the sky was the limit on how far we could advance as soon as we
realized that we were no different from the privates that were in front and behind of you.
Most of what a few girls from Harlem and I had in common was that we knew
how to talk to people in such a way that extracts the biggest tips. These girls and I both
worked as hostess and servers in up-scale restaurants. While they were in Manhattan and
I was in Dallas, the idea was the same. The kinder a person you are, and the more
attentive you are, the more they are willing to part with when they sign the check. As a
server, you realize that there are many other people in world, living on a pay-check to
pay-check basis just like you, who know what the word “chix” means. While the short-
hand for Chicken might not seem like much, to a server it means the difference between
scribble and a legible order you can put into the computer. The use of a computer as a
server is so crucial, that without it, you couldn’t perform the job. A computer is important
in many ways, between communicating with friends, family, teachers, and employers.
All-in-all, social aspects of life really influenced my knowledge and understanding of the
with people as individuals and with media outlets as a whole at the tip of our fingers.
Unlike most people, I actually had a pen-pall all the way from middle school to now. He
was a same-aged student as I was, but was attending school in Jackson, Mississippi. We
have talked about everything there ever was to know; but we made a pact to each other
that we will always write or email or text message each other in correct English. Over
time, that hasn’t really changed between my correspondences with anyone. I always
have, and always will, send emails and text messages like I would speak: In full,
world of viral internet, I have learned to interpret other people’s quick short-hand. While
it may not be a useful skill for a resume, I have learned a whole new aspect of literacy
All in all, influences that sponsor your literacy come from everywhere, whether
you realize it or not. Deborah Brandt defines a Sponsor of Literacy as someone who
directly influences your literate knowledge, but does not limit it to a specific language or
style (Brandt, 409). Taking that definition and applying it to my life makes me realize
writing anything for formal papers to informal journals, Army-speak and Army tactics
and operations, computers and technology used today, and even social literacy in how to
Works Cited