While writing my first rendition of the literacy narrative, I had felt quite confident in my story-telling skills, as I had dabbled in the sort beforehand. All I needed to do was to articulate my brainstorming sessions, and consider my audience. Albeit, the audience didn’t affect my writing all that much due to the fact that the story I was presenting wasn’t some sort of relatable and powerful story, but instead a recollection of an event that I had thought was quite helpful to my linguistic progress. All I had to do was to be descriptive, such that my audience would be able to imagine what I had been feeling. Of course, my intended audience was the English class. Which made peer review a little more helpful than usual in this instance. It was good to be able to hear how reading it actually felt to my intended audience, especially because everybody reads differently, regardless of whether or not the same words are being used. Furthermore my visit to the Writing Center gave me well-needed confirmation about the actual linguistic issues, and objectively flawed parts of the narrative that would make it more articulate and easier to read. These two situations made it very easy to revise my drafts, especially in the way I was used to revising my narratives. Ultimately, at the point I am at now, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that the information I’ve absorbed through my revisions will really help my further assignments regardless of the intrinsic differences between them. Finally, I wanted to say one last thing, that might make the narrative easier to understand and follow if need be, as I’ve been told my flow isn’t the best. I begin by introducing the context, almost like a preface, such that the situation wouldn’t leave you asking questions before the narrative even started. Then I simply walk through the story chronologically, whilst noting some specific scenarios that I remember, and my thoughts during those scenarios. Near the end of the intended story length, I begin to describe what I took away from that experience. I also want to mention that this relatively simple framework has gone through many improvements in this short time frame.
First Draft:
Not too long ago, my brother used to still live here in New York, in the same house as me and my entire family. He was employed in a non-profit organization called CAIR-NY, which specialized in legal issues about Muslim hate crimes. As for what this has to do with me, as his little brother, I was an immediate volunteer for many fundraising events and otherwise odd tasks. Many of these tasks only required me to do paltry communication with random individuals, and mostly included either manual labor or menial tasks that could be done while sitting still in an office chair in front of a black office desk. One day, however, my brother decided I should expand my horizons and try to actually learn to communicate professionally. Around that time, the annual CAIR-NY fundraiser gala had begun to have its gears spinning. Not only that, it was the 10th in its series, making it a special occasion. Of course, this meant the preparations needed to be grand in scale and awe-inspiring in their message. That meant securing a large venue, which in this case was a cruise ship, and well-known guest speakers with a reputation, and finally, actually inviting individuals and organizations that are related to CAIR-NY. That’s where I came in. My brother seated me in his room and gave me his work laptop, which had an Excel spreadsheet open. Even before being told what I had to do, the long list in front of me, filled with names and phone numbers and emails, had already formed a large concrete wall, nearly 2 feet thick, in my mind, one that I didn’t particularly want to start breaking down. However, instead of breaking it down, I was told to talk to it. Considering all the other things that I had done for the organization, this task seemed out of place. Given a general script, I was to contact everybody on that list, inform them of the dates, guest speakers, and venue of the CAIR-NY gala. Once I was finally left alone with my thoughts, I finally got to actually examine the list in front of me. Tabs for each New York City borough filled with dozens of names really reinforced that wall I had created in my mind, but the only way to start was to start. Of course, with my near non-existent experience with professional communication, it was made that way easier than said. Starting from the top of the list, I called three different numbers, all of which resulted in the dreaded beeps that signaled me to start saying the message I had wanted to leave with them. Reciting a script to a robot is quite easy. But finally, when someone did eventually pick up, I found myself a little panicked and reciting the same script that I had done for the last three messages. After getting my answer and jotting it down on the insurmountable list in front of me, I realized that I had omitted some important information. Not a great start. My confidence died down a little, but nevertheless, I continued, making more mistakes, some already made, and some new. But once I started ironing out the creases, I began to get into a groove, cutting through these calls like it was a montage, imagining myself in four different partitions of a screen, all in different calls, saying the right things, and them all hanging up at the same time, cinematically. About halfway through the second borough, my brother returned to check on my progress and help me if needed. Confident in what I was doing, I continued, and 2 calls later, my brother told me that I sounded too monotonous, robotic even. Whereas I had included all the information I had to, sounding too robotic would hurt the chances of them being persuaded to come. Processing this information, I realized that he was completely right, and that the script that I had forged through my experiences, like hammering and folding metal dozens of times, had been flawed the entire time. Shooting down the confidence that I had gained only made me realize that I still had so much to improve on with my professionalism. Back to the same trial and error process that I had trusted all too much. I had continued to call and call, noting the feedback I was given, and trying to improve. Thankfully, the rest of the list went without much trouble. But in the aftermath, I had realized over this period of two hours, give or take, I had so much to improve on with my scholarly English and public speaking. I had always thought I was pretty good at it, without having to recite scripts or memorize information, but actually being put in a situation where those skills are required made me understand I can’t just continue to wing everything. With this revelation, I sought to improve my conversational skills. Now that my brother has moved on in his life, and even moved to another state, those two hours continue to help me even now.
Final Draft:
The Pros and Cons of Little Brother Privilege:
When my brother used to still live here with me in New York, he was employed in a non-profit organization called CAIR-NY as an outreach manager and coordinator; and as his little brother, I was an immediate volunteer for many fundraising events and otherwise odd tasks. Regardless of my opinions, of course. Many of these tasks only required me to do paltry communication and mostly included either manual labor or menial tasks that could be done while sitting still in an serviceably comfortable office chair in front of a large, flat, and black office desk. Around the time that the 10th annual CAIR-NY fundraiser was beginning to be organized.
With such a large event, a confirmed headcount would be required. That’s where I come in. Whether or not my brother wanted me to improve my communication skills, or simply do less work, he seated me in his room and presented me with his work laptop, which had an Excel spreadsheet open. Even before being told what I had to do, the long list in front of me, filled with names and phone numbers and emails, had already formed a large concrete wall, nearly 2 feet thick in my mind, one that I didn’t particularly want to start demolishing. However, instead of breaking it down, I was told to talk to it. Considering all the other things that I had done for the organization, this task seemed out of place. Instead of being given my usual sledgehammer, I was given a paper with a script. A script to follow vaguely as I advertised the fundraising event, and what the attendance of the call would be. Once I was finally left alone with my thoughts, I finally got to actually examine the list in front of me. Tabs for each New York City borough filled with dozens of names really reinforced that wall I had created in my mind, but the only way to start was to start.
Of course, with my near non-existent experience with professional communication, that was way easier than said. The first few numbers I called hadn’t answered, which was a relief, and a worry to me. Reciting a script to a robot is quite easy, But when someone does eventually pick up, and the next contact did, I found myself unpracticed, panicked, and reciting the same script that I had done for the last three messages. After getting my answer and recording it on the practically unchanged list in front of me, I realized that I had omitted some important information from the call. Not a great start. My confidence died down a little, but nevertheless, I continued, and I made more mistakes, some repeated, and some new. But once I started ironing out the creases, I began to get into a groove, cutting through those calls like it was a highlight reel, imagining myself in four different partitions of a screen, all in different calls, saying the right things, and them all hanging up at the same time cinematically. About halfway through the second borough, my brother returned to check on my progress and help me if needed. Confident in what I was doing, I called again. But, to my dismay, my brother told me that I sounded too monotonous, robotic even. Whereas I had focused on conveying all the important information, I had forgotten to actually sound welcoming, and human, even. The script that I had forged through my experiences, like steel that was hammered and folded dozens of times, had been flawed the entire time. Despite shooting down the confidence that I had gathered, that only made me realize that I still had so much to improve on with my professional language.
Returning to the same trial and error process that I had trusted all too much. I had continued to call and call, noting the feedback I was given, and trying to improve. Thankfully, the rest of the list went without much trouble. But in the aftermath, I had realized over this period of two hours, give or take, I had so much to improve on with my scholarly English and public speaking. I had always thought I was pretty good at it, without having to recite scripts or memorize information, but actually being put in a situation where those skills are required made me understand I can’t just continue to wing everything. With this revelation, I sought to improve my conversational skills. Now that my brother has moved on in his life, and even moved to another state, those two hours continue to help me even now.
