I never realized how attaining literacy is something I was always working on, inside of a class room and outside of it, often with peers who were doing the same thing.
A few explanations:
- My dad. In third grade, I had to re-learn cursive because what I was doing in class was too sloppy. It was extra homework in the form of worksheets that I’d have to bring back to class. My dad would do the worksheets alongside of me in his own notebook and his help made it easier to get through. I have a messier version of my dad’s handwriting that I attribute partly to this experience.
- My friends throughout K-12. I did all sorts of activities with my friends that involved practicing genres. Most notably was making a ‘cool’ live-journal and seeing who can come up with the best ‘style’ by customizing the html (transparent posts with light text over a fixed background image) and ‘interesting’ (i.e. pretentious, just the ‘right’ amount of angst) content, then sharing resources.
- Getting radicalized at your local suburban bookstore. Hanging out, reading Adbusters and becoming aware of social issues for the first time. Hyperallergic, Juxtapoz, and other glossy magazines that represented a cool urban lifestyle and what a world beyond the ‘burbs looked like.
