Today is International Literacy Day. I never even knew it existed. It’s goal is to help communities around the globe act as a united voice in raising awareness for those who cannot read or write.
The fact that you’re reading this most likely means you had the opportunity to go to school and learn these skills. But for some, like myself it wasn’t easy. One of the hardest things is when you have an imagination that craves to be expressed, but doesn’t understanding how to use the tools being taught. I couldn’t grasp phonics, so sounding words out or spelling them correctly was always a problem for me. Reading seemed to go through my eyes, and out my ears before my mind had a chance to catch the words. To have such learning disabilities when I grew up was never addressed in my day and age. It wasn’t until I read something I really enjoyed that found how wonderful reading could be.
To have the desire to write my thoughts was a dream I never thought would come true. But the desire to do what seemed impossible wouldn’t leave me alone. So I learned how to teach myself. Reading, journaling and eventually online classes gave me the ability to work at my own pace with one on one help. The hardest part was learning to accept the critiques as positive way to make me a better writer. Than there was the insecurity I had after all those years of feeling stupid. Why would anybody want to read what I had to write? What else could I do but put it out there, and find out. Now I know it has always been what I was meant to do.
So I’m happy to know there is a special day set aside to encourage the wonderful world literacy opens up for us. For in my life it has taught me to paint the pictures of my imagination with the brush strokes of my words.