The Sisterly Influence on the English
Scrooge
There is a person who has an
extraordinary English ability. This person knows grammar inside and out. Reading
was one of her many past times and talents. She was her school’s English
Sterling Scholar for 2011. The description is not referring to me. Her name is
Kolbie Astle. She is my sister and She is where my relationship with English
begins.
Kolbie and I were born 15 months apart.
In all we did Kolbie was the quiet, content reader and I was the active, hyper,
antsy child. We were both smart in what we did. I was excelled in math,
science, art, and physical activities. Kolbie’s talents were reading, art, math,
science, history, and any other arithmetic. The problem with us being 15 months
apart was our teachers assumed we were similar. They were wrong. The subject
Kolbie excelled in the most was English. This was my worst subject, but since
Kolbie excelled at it teachers would push me to be just as good as Kolbie was.
This made every good experience I had with English disappear, like reading The Magic Tree House books. These books
had adventure and they were easy to read. However, since my sister was reading
high school level reading books in elementary, all of my teachers thought I
should read those too. Events like these made my mindset similar to Ebenezer
Scrooge, from Charles Dickens, A
Christmas Carol. Since elementary school every time I heard the word
English I would want nothing to do with it. I chose not to understand it. The
words were confusing and I chose to not retain what I was learning. It is safe
to say that I was an “English Scrooge”. I was then changed by an event. By the
person who I thought put me in the mindset in the first place. This was the day I read Kolbie’s blog.
In High School, I was still pushed to
excel in English. I took the honors English classes 10th grade -12th
grade. In class we would discuss the symbolism behind the books we were
reading. Students in my class would describe events like they watched it in a
movie. They said they would see colors and textures. The thing that bothered me
most is, when they could describe what a character looked like. They would say
the man was short, he had a big belly, with short brown hair, and twinkling
blue eyes. I didn’t know what they were seeing. I could never see pictures; I
only could imagine shadows.
One day after school, I was devastated to
get my literary analysis of Joseph Conrad’s, Heart of Darkness essay back. I failed again. I was crying to my
mom. I was going into an “English Meltdown”. My mind was reverting back to all
the negative things I did. I failed my first, second and barely passed my third
draft of my Crime and Punishment essay.
I was never as good at English, as my sister was. I had not passed a single
essay in my senior year. It seemed as though everyone in my family had the
ability to write a passable essay, but me. Even my younger stepsister could write
better than me. After I cried all of my woes to my mom, She gave me a
semi-helpful pep talk. This consisted of my mom showing me all my
accomplishments. She reminded me that I was directing a musical, and I didn’t
have as much time as my other siblings and students to revise my essays like I
would have liked to. She reminded me I was working on singing a classical song
for Solo and Ensemble. She also reminded me that everyone is different in his
or her own abilities, and mine was different than my sisters.
As soon as my mom had finished calming me
down, Kolbie walked into the room. My
mind put up the “Scrooge Shield”. My thoughts went straight to how I didn’t
want my sister to say anything about English, and if she did I would pretend to
listen but I wouldn’t retain anything. I didn’t want any advice from someone
who had put all the pressure on me to succeed in something I didn’t like.
English. However, I was wrong. Kolbie
wanted to share with my mom a song she had written. This fascinated me. I had written songs but never shared them
with my family. I could relate to music. Kolbie began to play the song she
wrote for her boyfriend leaving for summer training in the Army. The song’s
name was Imperfect Symphony. This
song was not related to English what so ever, but it talked about how
imperfections can come together to make something beautiful. I thought about my
imperfections in school. I thought about how maybe, my faults would some how be
able to make a difference. Other people have faults and I thought that all of
us together make a world of faults; it brought me so much peace to realize that
I wasn’t alone. Kolbie talked to my mom how she would write things on her blog
a lot, I usually wouldn’t pay attention, but when she said she put her song on
her blog, I was instantly curious.
I don’t know what I was expecting when I
first searched out my sisters blog. It may have been that I wanted to see if
her writing would affect me as much as her song. As I opened her blog, her
picture was right in the corner, she had so many things written, but the first
one that caught my eye was titled, “On the Brink”. This is a paragraph that caught my attention
while reading. The words seem to scream right into my heart and my mind.
“On the brink of adulthood, on the brink of
independence, on the brink of a new path. A path that I know nothing about. I
want to meet the people on that path, and show them that I am a force to be
reckoned with. Not an ignorant kid, not a hormonal teenager, but a person. A
person who knows what she wants and is willing to work hard to get it. I will
show everyone the kind of person that I can be (Astle).“
In reading this, the words were
exactly what I needed to hear. After I read this article, I began to search
through out her blog. I found poems she had written, random thoughts she had,
and many more writings she had done. As I read her work, I began to appreciate
English. It was the hinge that opened up my mind to change. English changed to
be a form of art. My mind was able to make sense of art. I had played piano
since I was seven, I was acting on stage, I was singing in choir, and now
English was a form of art. The way words can create feeling, and touch souls.
They way the different imagery created a different world. It made sense to me
because art can’t be done wrong, once a strong foundation of the basics is
applied; therefore reading and writing can’t be done wrong, I needed to learn
the basics of the English language so I too could create art with my words. Once
I learned this I began to listen and learn in class.
Although that year of AP English was
not what I had expected it to be, I learned a great deal about the English
Language, not from my teacher, but from my sister. Her influence changed my
view of English. I only pass one or two essays that year, and I didn’t pass the
AP test. However, I learned a good essay couldn’t be written in a 45-minute
time frame. Writing is an art that takes time. I learned it takes patience,
pondering, editing, rewriting, revising, confidence, and work to make it how I
wanted it to be. My first try wasn’t good enough for a final draft, but it was
a perfect start. All of my imperfect drafts could create a beautiful work of
art if I took the time to make a symphony.
Works Cited
Astle, Kolbie. "On the Brink". 5 Septmember 2010. 2013 11 2013 <kolbieanne-23.blogspot.com/2010/09/1-on-brink.html#more>.
:)
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