Shelby Whitfield

Literacy Narrative

I can remember a day in the third grade when my teacher (I forgot her name)
began singing this Spanish song that just sounded like a bunch of mashed up foreign
words that didnt make any sincesense. I always thought what the hell was the point of
singing the dumb song if I didnt even understand what it was about. We sang it over and
over again, until the whole class knew the song. I think that is why I still remember it
today. Thats where my interest in the Spanish language started. I thought it would be so
cool to understand another language, kind of like a secret language, but definitely not
because Spanish is such a popular one.
Unfortunately, I dont remember learning Spanish throughout the rest of my
elementary years; most likely, because I didnt pay any attention. T, those were the years
where my social butterfly personality came out. I mean my guess is that I wrote some
Spanish words down like camisa or rojo (shirt and red), but that really didnt do
much for me.
I really started learning and /liking Spanish in the 7th grade. My homeroom
teacher was Mr. Floyd, a Hispanic man with slicked back black hair and constant stubble
on his face from not shaving every morning. Mr. Floyd continuously shoved Spanish
words down our throats, kind of like a mother does to her child when they wont eat, he
just kept piling them in. I couldnt stand take it anymoreit. My newfound love for
Spanish was diminishing and I had just started to like it. I was so tired of hearing Spanish
words on a daily basis but I knew it was never going to stop as long as I had him as my
homeroom teacher. So, I forced myself to start loving this language that I wanted to know

so bad but didnt care enough about. So I listened to his foreign voice practically yelling
the words everyday and I would write them down and then ask Ms. Babula, my Spanish
teacher, what they meant. Ms. Babula had spikey white hair and was always wearing
these sugar skull earrings that I thought were for The Day of the Dead, but maybe not.
Mr. Floyd and Ms. Babula taught right across the hall from each other so it was like a
little community of Spanish speaking people. Spanish class was fourth period for me so I
was awake enough to comprehend the lesson that she was teaching. Ms. Babula loved me
and I loved her and we just had this awesome connection that most teachers and students
dont have. I would always try and be a suck up in that class just so she would like me
more, plus I got major brownie points. Ms. Babula made me love Spanish because she
didnt force it down my throat;, she just taught it in a way that was open. You could either
love it or you could hate it, it was up in the air and she left it for you to grab or ignore and
that was my favorite thing about her.
During fourth period one day, Ms. Babula left out sheets of paper at the front of
her classroom. Out of curiosity, I went up and grabbed one. Come to find out, they were
applications for an exchange trip to Cabo San Lucas. I had never heard of the place but
took one just cause it interested me. I took it home to my parents and they were able to
explain to me what it was and help me to understand the gist of it. After reading the
application questions and finding out what an exchange trip was, I wanted to apply
immediately, my heart had never wanted anything more than to go on this trip. I saw my
mom in the carpool line and sprinted to the car waving the application in my hand; she
looked extremely worried. I got in the car in a hurry and my mom asked,
Sweetie, whats wrong?

In a short breath I said, I want to go on this trip, mom.

She looked at the application and read over it and told me that wed talk to dad, just like
she did for everything I wanted. I always wondered why both parents had to agree, why
couldnt one just say yes. I was so ready to hear YES, but I wasnt getting that until my
dad looked over the papers. My dad flipped through the application as my heart pounded
a million miles an hour waiting for his answer. After 15 minutes of looking through and
seeing what the trip entailed he said,
You can go if they pick you for the trip
I screamed to the top of my lungs and hugged my dad so tight, making it hard for him to
breathe. p. My kind-hearted mother helped me fill out the application with what I called
smart words. I just thought that adults knew how to word things better and knew of
bigger words that made my 7th grade brain look dumb, that thought has been proven true.
My application was sent the next day after tirelessly working on it with my mom,
critiquing every last grammar mistake and 7th grade word in my vocabulary.
After weeks of checking my email every second and anxiously listening to the
intercom at school hoping for some good news, it finally arrived. That day, I casually
walked out to get the mail, not hoping for any good news, considering my other methods
of trying to find out were all but checking the mail. There it was, a letter with my name
on it was sitting in my hands from Charlotte Country Day School. I ripped the letter open
to find out that I was on my way to Cabo San Lucas; my mind felt like it was going 100
miles per hour and I was walking too slow for how fast my mind was working. I sprinted
inside and screamed to the point where I broke glass (over exaggeration). I was so excited

to embark on this new journey where I would learn new culture, see clear water, and talk
to all of these people that spoke the language I wanted to speak.
After months of packing, the day had finally come where when I would fly to
Cabo. I was in shock and close to tears that the moment I had been waiting for had finally
arrived. Although the tears were mostly because I was going to be leaving my parents for
10 days, I was ready to fly far away from the boring state of North Carolina. Me and six
other kids flew over bright blue waters with free sprites in our hands, talking about what
we were going to do first when we see saw our exchange buddies. My exchange buddy
was Pamela, a soft-spoken 8th grader who had braces.
We had arrived. The 7-hour plane ride was over (thank God) and I was relieved to
be back on actual terrain. Pamela and all the other exchange buddies were there at the
airport waiting for us with signs that read: Bienvenidos Shelby! or So glad youre
here! I had never felt more welcome to be somewhere than when I saw my name on
those signs and was embraced by so many people, getting bombarded with kisses on my
left and right, acne-covered cheeks. I was wearing a Delias shirt that read, I love sushi
on it and neon yellow skinny jeans with my chunky braces and pale skin. I was the ugliest
7th grader on the block. Wow, I hated myself back then.
Pamela and her loving family, her mom, dad, and little chubby brother Emilio,
took me back to their house where I would stay the next 10 days. I remember pulling up
to her house and seeing this cabin-like home that just looked so adventurous. This would
be the start of my adventure in Cabo San Lucas. Would I survive? Would I learn new
things? Yes. I did both as a matter of fact.

Answering the question above, I did survive and I did learn new things. I was able
to speak so much more fluently with the help of all of my old teachers from the past
years. Ms. Babula was the chaperone for the trip and she would take us to places that
really captured the Mexican culture and showed us what all this Spanish was for. I had so
many conversations in Spanish. I couldnt believe that all of this gradual learning had got
me here. I understood what these people were saying to me and they werent talking in
English. I ordered off of the menu in Spanish, I asked for a towel in Spanish, I told
someone where to go in Spanish. I was on roll and I was only getting better. This whole
exchange trip taught me what a new culture was like and how to be able to communicate
with people from other countries and I had a lot of fun. This trip forever had a mark on
my heart and it was something so precious to me that I know I would never forget.
Unfortunately, Im back to square one. I can say hola and adios. After so
long, you begin to forget words and sayings and it all begins to gradually go away.
Learning Spanish and being able to go to another country and use it was something that
not a lot of people get to experience. I communicated with the secret language I always
wanted to use and I found out what my teacher in the third grade kept singing to me. It
was some song about elephants and spiders and numbers. I dont know why or what she
wanted our class to get out of that but it was sure catchy cause I can still sing it to this
day.
This whole experience led my mind to open up and really understand what other
cultures are like. I think that if any child or adult has the chance to explore out of the
United States, they should immediately take it. Chances like these come up rarely and
exploring the world around us is neat and important.Learning another language and

communicating with it is so important in todays world. We talk to so many people and

being able to interconnect with different societies and cultures is a privilege that not
many take advantage of. Sure, I would love to take up Spanish again. But, lets be honest.
Do I have the time? No.