Courtney Hobbs
Mr. Mitchell
English 101-003
14 December 2017
Reflection
Writing was always something that I hated to do. I had the mindset that all of my
papers were not as good as what they could be, nor were they as organized as what I hoped they
would be. I knew that coming into college, writing would be a foreign concept to, taking into
consideration the work and effort it would take to fully write a well-rounded paper. Analyzing
papers, as well as understanding the concept to the fullest was an area that I one hundred percent
would struggle with. I found myself having a good thesis statement, however when it came to the
organizational aspect of all of it, I found myself extremely lost as to what to do. Nevertheless, by
taking my time and really working hard by developing a well-organized paper as a whole, it has
really helped me, and gave me tools that I could use for the future to come.
When given the assignment of writing a literacy narrative essay I was so lost at what to
do. I had never heard of the concept of such paper, however after learning the concept of what
exactly a literacy narrative is, I knew I was in for a hardship, however a hardship that I knew
would help me in the long run. I had never written any paper that had any association with the
concept of essentially writing a story, which meant disregarding all the “writing rules” that I had
been made memorize before. With that I chose a topic that was close to me, being made fun of
for the way I talked when I arrived on campus.
After my first essay submission, I was pleasantly surprised with my grade. I was always
insecure about my writing and never thought it was very good, so I was pleased with a B for my
first college paper. I believe that peer reviews helped me a great deal with my writing, getting
input from other people and hoe they saw my work, and them giving me ideas for a paper I
would have never been able to come up with myself. I finished the semester with a B and 2 A’s
and was so excited to see how my writing progressed in the class, even if it meant staying up all
night writing on occasion. I believe that the curriculum in this class has done more than it’s part
in preparing me for my next English classes, and helped me become a well-developed writer, and
more importantly a confident writer.
Courtney Hobbs
Mr.Mitchell
English 101-003
“We-DOW-wee”
Since the age of five, I have called Wedowee my home. It was nothing special to someone
on the outside looking in if they had ever heard of Wedowee (let alone if they could pronounce it
correctly). Regardless of the extremely small size, to the mere 806 people that reside in the three
and a half square miles, it is home. “Home is where the heart is,” is way more than just some ole
quote to us. When I try to explain to people exactly how small my companionable little town is
they never fully understand until they hear some of the characteristics of a unique place like
Wedowee. I always joke and say if you blink going through town, you are sure to miss it. Where
I come from there is no traffic light, just a four-way stop. There are no big restaurants or
shopping centers for forty-five miles, in any direction, I always seem to get a big reaction from
that one. The only things of that nature in our patient meager is a small family owned grocery
store, two fast food restaurants, and a mexican restaurant. I can without a doubt guarantee the
mexican restaurant would be smack full on any given Tuesday night for the adored taco Tuesday,
and fellowship. It is almost strange to me how some people react when they start to interpret
just how small Wedowee really is.
I never expected the changes I was about to encounter when I made my decision to come to
the University of Alabama. I left more than just a small town behind. Wedowee was a place
where everyone knew everyone, it is the absolute epitome of a tight-knit community, especially
compared to Tuscaloosa My support system, values, and way of life ran as deep as the oaks that
inhabited Wedowee’s every corner many years before I, or anyone else did. When I arrived at the
Capstone I was completely bewildered at degree of culture shock I was about to encounter. I
imagine I always, small mindedly, assumed that the incoming students from the west coast or the
north would be the ones in culture shock, but boy was I wrong. I had no idea what I was in for,
only traveling one hundred and fifty-five miles from my hometown..
My first experience of a so to speak culture shock was at BamaBound orientation, I had not
even moved to Tuscaloosa yet. When I came to orientation and found out my roommates for the
two days were ALL from the north or west coast; Connecticut, California, and New Jersey. At
first, I was terrified of rooming with “northerners,” I mean, the farthest north I have ever been
was Tennessee so I was clueless as to what to expect from them. This was my first encounter
with anyone from that far north. As the night progressed and we all started settling in and
conversations started. They all started using terms and talking about things that they all
understood, but were foreign to me. Like how they addressed parties as “pipelines,” or how
“bopped” was the term used when a party got busted in Jersey but in California it was a sexual
reference. In Wedowee, bopped just meant to bop someone. How they called cops “pigs” which
really happened to hit home for me simply due to the fact my dad has been employed by the
Atlanta Police Department for twenty nine years this spring. Yet, when I used terms that were
“native” to me they all looked at me like I was foreign, but all I could think to myself was “I am
the one that is from here!” Throughout orientation all I heard was “omg where are you from?”,
“your accent is so thick!”, and “The way you talk is so cute!” I had never in my life been told
any of that before. I started thinking to myself as orientation drug along, and I was asked the
same questions over and over, “am I really the different one here?”
Beyond that first experience of culture shock, it never seemed to subside. I just got used to
people having a comment to make about the way I talk, or the name of the town I am from. Even
getting used to people thinking that I made up a town to make myself different. I have learned to
embrace my differences, because it is what make me unique in this city and at this university.
People might mock that I complain about missing the first day of hunting season, or that the
parties where I am from took place in a pasture around a bonfire with some of my closest friends,
and that I complain about not being able to go mudding on the miserable rainy days here. I
believe that coming from a small town in the southeast has shaped me into who I am today, and
there is nothing wrong with that. At least I’ll stand out and people will have something to
remember me by, even if it is my accent or the name of my town.
The worst assumption, that is seemingly more common than not, is when people presume