Litaracy+Narrative

Meagan Blanchette Wrt 104 Zenion Day one of the school year I walked into my advisory to see the welcoming face from my advisor Mrs. Hopkins. She greeted me with a friendly "hello" followed by a "Hey, Meagan, guess what?! I have you in my English class this year!" My stomach churned due to my lack of interest for English. I slowly slid into the closely arranged desks. My eyes peered towards the effortlessly painted mural on the far left wall. A scene from a book? I sat in curiosity, interrupted by a faint bustle of students rushing to their advisories. The students curious to see what their future entailed . I stepped into English eleven, taking a seat in the familiar wood grain desks. I chose to sit in the far left corner.White index cards, blank, flooded the desks all around. I stared at the questions blankly. As I analyzed the questions and the font of Mrs. Hopkins handwriting 6's replaced every G. The norm of her handwriting. A white dilapidated phone hung on the cinder block walls and began to ring. Meanwhile, I skimmed the questions one last time.The sentences varied from "What did you do on your summer vacation? How many books did you read? What do you wish to accomplish this year in eleventh grade English?" These question were confident and simple. The questions slowly processed through my mind. I articulated every word. I did not want Mrs. Hopkins to think less of me. I wrote "English is not my best subject. I may not succeed but I am going to work hard to achieve." My work never displayed confidence. Until I changed myself . High school is filled with graduation requirements, classes, drivers education, and extracurriculars. I became overwhelmed. I know without a respected adult, my anxiety would conquer me. My reliable source for information, advice, and anything else imaginable wore earthy tones always polished with a smile. She always listened to my crazy stories. Mrs. Hopkins was never quick to judge and accepted me for myself. It was evident she provided the guidance I needed. Quarters one and two I eased my way into some of the books, a chapter here and there. I established a solid educational foundation in November. Third quarter, Mrs. Hopkins assigned a novel entitled The Things They Carried. I carefully analyzed the cover, the font, and the length of the novel. My noticeable shift in body language and eye rolling prompted a conversation. Mrs Hopkins confronted me about my gestures towards the novel. On the cover was a picture of a soldier marching with determination. This put me in an uneasy mood. Prior to reading The Things They Carried I have only read fiction books. This novel explained the essence of Vietnam and the tragedies that occurred throughout the war. As chapters went on, the writing became more in depth. Tim O'Brien utilized different writing styles throughout the novel. He used the point of view of different characters. He discussed the varied tangible and intangible objects the soldiers carried. This information described the mental state of the soldiers. The decisions they made created emotional connection between the reader and the character. One soldier may bring hope and strength to see their family. While another brings peaches. Each character tells it's own story.

A scene I recall so clearly discribed the death of the main characters best friend. O'Brien and Kiowa shared more than just a friendship. They were brothers. Kiowa drowned in a shit field. O'Brien implemented foreshadowing through the use of weather, and the other signals. Many locals warned the soldiers repeatedly of the cursed land. Yet the troops set up camp. After the endless rain, the campsite became penetrated with water. The ground beneath the soldiers began to separate. That was when the soldiers realized they set up camp on a shit field. This field was potent in smell and suction. The suction snagged Kiowa's gear, then it took Kiowa. The memento left behind,was his boots. The boots, rose to the top of the abyss. The main character Tim O'Brien held strong. O’Brien rescued Kiowa's boots and kept them the whole Vietnam tour. The boots symbolized hope and strength to persevere. Eventually the soldiers in the troop retrieved Kiowa's body. They cleaned the body and respected his honor.

Throughout this novel I watched the story unfold through text. This real world scenario, played out in story and factual form. The more I read the clearer the real world application became. This book provided a meaningful purpose to read. Mrs. Hopkins opened my eyes to the benefits of reading. My academics would not equate to what they are today without her. Once I saw the powerful effect of reading, I gained knowledge. I have been reading constantly ever since. Lastly I learned study habits that I will carry through college