RE_5539

Heather Holland

Wow! I loved this reading. I could relate in an eerily sort of way to the author—Deborah Hicks because my childhood growing up was very similar. I am going to share a little history from both my parents and my childhood. When reading chapter 3, I enjoyed the narrative stories of her childhood, so I apologize, in advance, if you do not enjoy reading mine.

Mother’s roots
My mother grew up in a large family of seven children. My grandfather worked very hard to provide for his family and saved every penny. As I was growing up, my mother told stories of how she got “one” pair of shoes for the entire school year. She had to take care of them because that was all she had. I remember one story about their carpet being so old that my grandmother had to place many little rugs everywhere to cover the holes. My mom was so embarrassed that she never brought any of her friends to her house. As my mother became a young adult, she was very in-tuned with how she appeared. She was ALWAYS very well-kept and dressed to the tee. She told me stories of young men that wanted to date her and even marriage proposals that she turned down (*so strange that Deborah Hicks told a very similar story). Her stories helped shape my hybrid identity (just like Deborah Hicks’ identity).

My mother was always concerned with manners and being classy, and she instilled the same values in my sister and me--continuously! It was very important to her that we used proper English and sound educated (she was unable to attend college because her parents could not afford to send her and she helped out at home with her younger siblings). She told us that people do make judgments about you immediately when you speak. These judgments are based on your (SE) English skills and how you are dressed. Ok—now for my father’s history.

Father’s roots
My father attending college, was a basketball star in high school and college, and worked hard to own his own used car lots and body shop. He wanted to be a businessman. He was very driven and motivated. He came from a poor family that worked hard and eventually became a successful accountant and community leader. My grandfather attended college and brought his family from poverty to success. Because of these roots from “rags to riches”… in a sense… He expected my father to be successful too. It was crazy (the insane ambition my grandparents instilled in my father)!

When my parents married, I think they both had the idea that they would have a fairy tale life. My dad worked constantly. My mother kept us clean, well kept, and worked with us constantly to ensure that we would do well in school. My parents ended up struggling financially, but no one would have ever known that because they kept up the image of middle class or maybe even upper-middle class. My mom would get cleaned up and do her hair to just go out and work in the yard! She would NEVER go anywhere without being completely “done-up” (I’m having a hard time coming up with words to describe it.) Both parents always made certain that my sister and I had more than they did when they were growing up. Although my parents valued our academics, they never sat around and read. My mom did read magazines like the Reader’s Digest, occasionally and the newspaper. My dad looked at car magazines, but neither of them ever read books. My mom always made sure we were well-dressed even for play. We would put clothes in lay-away every spring for the summer and every summer for the fall. It was “the thing” we’d do together. My dad was big on shoes. Crazy? He’d always get us fitted for our shoes. We had to have good shoes because we only have one set of feet (he’d say).

I am sharing all of this family history to say that life was NOT always perfect as I imagined it to be and literature was not something my family got excited about. It was something we had to learn to do to succeed. Reading was expected of us. I think my parents struggled as they raised our family with the idea that they had to do better than their parents. Because of these ideals and values, I grew up living in a fantasy world similar to Deborah Hicks. I would write and often daydream about fairy tale endings. I was always weaving imaginary fictions into everyday life as she did. Finally, as an adult… reality has set in. My history did shape me in numerous ways. As a reader it had to have shaped my perceptions and ideas about literacy. I struggled with reading in the second grade. I never enjoyed it until later in life. I viewed reading as something that I had to do to be a “good girl” and a “model citizen and student”.

I am anticipating reading the next chapter and plan to start it as soon as I submit this Blog. I want to read more and find out how my experiences specifically shaped my literacy because I grew up in a white middle class home in small town America. Learning to read was a MUST. I did it because I had to succeed. I remember my mom buying me a plethora of Golden Books and reading to me from large anthologies as a child. I also had a “Grandpa Time” clock that I had in my bedroom that read fables and fairytales to me every night before bed. How did this shape my experiences with literacy? How did it mold me into the person or reader that I am today? I am eager to find out more about the relationships.

Another Topic:
When the author was telling stories about “bell hooks”, why was her name (a proper noun) not capitalized? I read for awhile, hoping that the book would explain why every letter in her name was in lower case letters, but the author never mentioned it. Is this something that demonstrates bell’s creativity and her resistance to certain literary forms? I now have two copies of Reading Lives, and I actually looked in both books to see if it was a mistake in one of my copies—nope.

Written by
Heather Holland