Dennis Vasyukhnevich

Becoming literate paper

UWRT-1101-073
9-13-15

draft 2

An Ongoing Process of Becoming Literate

Literacy? Becoming literate? Till now, all literate meant to me was being good or able to
read and write. Yes, that is part of what it means! So doing a bit of research I figured out that
literacy, or being literate means the knowledge we possess of a particular subject or field, and of
course along with our ability to read and write. Well, having a new definition I believe requires
me to look at my literacy from a different prospective. From my position, I believe I came across
a few drastic accomplishments in life. To some I had no choice but to learn, others to me became
more of a hobby.
I, Me, Dennis Vasyukhnevich, grew up in a midsize family. Being the oldest of five
children and the only boy surrounded by four sisters wasnt easy I gotta say. My Parents are both
immigrants from a small Country in Eastern Europe called Belarus. They moved to America
when they were pretty young themselves. They met and married In Utica New York, and a
couple months down the line, I emerged into this world. Growing up, English was by far the
greatest challenge I have yet faced. Russian is my first language and I didnt even know another
existed till I was about four, four and a half to be more accurate. Math and sports is something
more universal between races, and the ethnic world. I loved sports, and therefore became really
athletic. Sports helped me in teamwork and communication which hence helped me with my
English. Math is something I also excelled in, compared to some other students. While they sat

and made fun of my terrible grammar, which in fact I still work on very hard today, I solved
equations that others couldnt even possibly fathom. However like I mentioned before, the
English language and all that is to it was and still is by far my hardest literacy test in life, and I
continue to work on it.
I still remember to this day vividly in my mind my first day of kindergarten. I walked in
the halls for the first time without the loving hand of my mother to guide me amongst a sea of
different races and ethnicities. To me this was like living a scary movie in reality. I remember
walking to my little classroom, fighting back tears in my eyes to not embarrass myself in front of
what seemed to me like the whole world. Everyone seemed to know what they were doing and
why they were there, me however I was completely lost and scared. The only English I knew at
the time was, Mom, Dad, and maybe even bassrooom. Thats the only way I could pronounce
bathroom at the time, or at least that is what Im told to this day!! Lucky me I had a very sweet
teacher that helped me with my first few weeks knowing and understanding that it was difficult
for me. However as hard as it was, I was very eager to learn. At first some of my super extremely
difficult sentences included, I like cat. Then I got good and moved up to liking butterflies and
alligators. Around midday, came my favorite time usually, blue carpet time!! Here we got
together in a small circle crisscross applesauced, and the teacher would pull out picture books
from her secret stash and I would captivatingly stare and devour the pages with my sight as my
ears faithfully listened to her pronounce the words.
One of my new greatest passions became reading picture books. I sounded out words
from the picture books and looking at the pictures, tried to connect the sounding of these new
words to me with new meanings. For some I later found out to be completely wrong, for example

after reading a picture book about a bat, I always thought they were called stellalunas because
that is what the author Janell Cannon, stated was the name of the fury bird looking picture,
well it wasnt haha. I slowly began to understand that animals like humans were to sometimes
given names.
The elementary school I attended knew that I was new to the English language and
without giving me a chance to prove myself, stuck me into ESL classes. These classes are given
to students who struggle in school with English, math and etc., however these classes made me
feel like a genius but at the same time so dumb. They asked questions at a (excuse my language)
retarded level. I felt like I was learning less my attending these sessions. So I told my teacher Im
never going to them again. I was so set on not being lowered to ESL standards that I got my
mom which barley new English herself to come up to the school and rescue me. She told them in
her broken English, I work on him home, NO ESL, and for that I was very grateful. I needed to
attend regular classes, not decelerated ones.
As I transition between grades, I started reading fictional chapter books. I couldnt get
myself to read non-fiction such as biographies and informational texts because they bored me to
death. I happen to have an astronomical imagination that takes me to beautiful worlds, and nonfiction is like a treacherous, sabotaging black hole that sucks out all imagination. I read so much
that my parents would get upset at me for not eating my lunch or dinner, or That I would soon
need glasses as they would say. With the amount of reading I did, I soon started to see a positive
correlation with my grades. They slowly climbed and climbed. To me the most interesting was
the aspect of the language of irony, sarcasm. I like to say that sarcasm is my third language
sometimes, and as sarcastic as I make it sound some have even gullibly fell for it in lower grades

like 5th and 6th grade saying, Yeah right, say something in the Sarcastic language of yours I
would reply, Well youre not the brightest crayon in the box now, are you? and they would
stare at me baffled and utterly confused.
Speaking was the easy part, grammar was not! When a teacher told me to write a paper
by hand, meant Im getting a bad grade because no matter how hard I tried to proof read it, it
would always just sound bad, so I began to write fake stories of how they played out in my head,
like miniature tales. Then I started to recall moments in my life and tries writing descriptive
autobiographies about a certain time. Little by little I began to understand how sentences should
be worded. Of course reading chapter books helped however it wasnt the same as enjoying
someones imagination forming an intriguing fantasy compared to creating my own. I soon got
quite good at writing, I thought of it as a silent language, something that you only get better at
through practice. When I finally came to highschool, it felt like I hit a cement wall, literally. My
teachers started giving me rubrics, pretty much prewritten plans, molds to which I can pour my
ideas into. I hated it so much, it made writing so difficult. I had to start writing plans and
brainstorm ideas to my writing and follow specific guidelines and page lengths. Have you ever
felt like you just cant write anything else for a certain subject? For me it was the worst. Teacher
says write eight pages and I only have like five. I felt like writing wasnt for me at all, and the
worst part was they said it will always be like this even through college, if I ever made it of
course. Lucky me Im a survivor, so I learned to do as they told me even though it was very
painful. I continued to read, except now fiction wasnt the focus of my mind, it was knowledge. I
began to show an immense interest in reading scientific studies, new discoveries made, and the
human anatomy.

As much as I want to take credit for learning this literacy on my own, I simply cannot.
My parents helped with what they could, even though it felt that sometimes I was teaching them
more English then they were teaching me. My Dad was more of a motivation tool to be honest.
He would come by, look at my writing and nod as he read through it. He would say, Wow!
Dennis you so good my son, and when I asked what about it is so good, He would smile at me
and say, If I knew I would tell you! My friends that I made in school, around my house, and on
sport teams also played a major role in my literacy learning process. I would like to thank the
lord Jesus for creating books, for without them I wouldnt be talking to you in the sarcastically
worded professional English that I do today. To some who truly understand through what I truly
went through, I am very good at my English language, however to others who were lucky
enough to grow up in proper English families and dont know my origins, Im a slow idiot that
might not know the meaning to a simple everyday word that everyone uses. The most fascinating
aspect of this literacy is that there is always something new you can learn about the English
language or about writing. Like I mentioned before, the English language and all that is to it was
and still is by far my hardest literacy test in life, and I continue to work on it day by day.