A few weeks ago uni started back up for the year. In the first week of my 'literacies' class (that's not what its called but it is about 'literacies' so let's stick with that) I was informed that all students were required to create a blog that critically reflects upon one's own literacy development, anchored to a personal memory. "A blog!? A personal memory!?" I said to myself, having never been confronted with such a task.
At First I struggled to think of a personal memory that would relate to the task. During class discussion our lecturer (of another course), a passionate visual arts advocate, was emphatically describing drawing as an early developmental form of communication and the prerequisite experience children need to develop the fine motor skills involved in writing. "Drawing is the foundational form of written literacy!" my lecturer declared. And then it hit me!! I remembered these books my Mum had kept from my kindy years. They were story books. A compilation of my early stuff, writing and drawing! A rich material site from which to elicit memories of my formative literacy experiences: learning to read and communicate via linguistic and visual texts. I have to say, I was stuck gazing at these infantile musings for ages before I began the blog task. Just looking through the pages brought back so many memories from that age...
