I taught fourth graders in the early years of my career. I often brought books from my home that provided extra information for topics that we were studying. I left them on a table and encouraged my students to feel free to borrow them or simply scroll through them when they had the time. Many of those books disappeared forever but that never bothered me the way it probably should have. I realized early on in that school that many of my students had little or no print material in their homes. I rationalized that if a student felt compelled to take a book forever I was providing a bit of the joy that reading had always been for me. I said nothing and often just replaced whatever had gone missing.
Teaching disadvantaged children was enlightening for me. My family wasn’t exactly rolling in money after my father died but we still had all of the books that he had purchased before he was gone. They were proudly on view in bookshelves in our hallway and my brothers and I often read and reread them. My mother subscribed to one of the local newspapers and took us regularly to the library. Books were a central part of our lives from the time we were born. I witnessed both of my parents reading on a regular basis and so I just assumed that every family was like mine. Realizing that the majority of my students in that school had little or no access to reading material at home was distressing to me so I kept bringing volumes that might pique their interest without worrying about whether or not I got those items back.
I watch the young mothers who are in my circle reading to their children on a daily basis. I see them taking their little ones to the library and putting them in early learning situations that provide them with advanced levels of learning from the start of their lives. It saddens me to know that many other children who live in economically deprived situations do not enjoy the luxury of books and educational experiences. Such children are often lucky just to have enough food for the duration between paychecks. Libraries are often too far away from where they live to make it convenient for them to visit regularly and so they exist in a kind of literary desert.
Most of the teachers that I know reach out to friends and family to purchase class sets of books for students to use. They bring in magazines and newspapers for which they have subscriptions. They do their best to provide their youngsters with opportunities to read. Some schools even have wonderful libraries and book fairs but the modern day trend has been to economize by eliminating librarians and reducing funding for free standing libraries. Emphasis in reading too often focuses only on learning certain skills rather than providing the wonders of reading self selected titles. Students begin to associate reading with a kind of drudgery rather than a beautiful journey into the world through words and illustrations.
I have witnessed some masterful Reading and English teachers over the years. These men and women know how to bring the written word alive. They relate books with the human experience. They magically transform students from reluctant readers into young people who treasure books as much as a big screen television. Literacy becomes a joy rather than a task that is timed and judged by choosing multiple choice answers.
Somehow with concern over test scores we all too often create a student’s association with reading as something onerous rather than wonderful. We force students to quickly read a few paragraphs and then answer silly questions that take the joy from learninshg. In some schools kids are now taught with scripts and timers that turn reading into a drill. For those children who have no print material in their homes such methods create a lifelong dread of reading.
When my father and mother read to me the message from them was very clear. Because they loved me they wanted me to be able to know the joys of the written word. I associated reading with fun and laughter and most of all with comfort and security. I wanted desperately to learn how to make those letters strung together on a page make sense in my own mind. I wanted to read so that I might explore the world on my own. The result is that I have books tucked away and on view all over my home. They cover virtually every kind of genre and are in truth my most precious possessions. When hurricane Harvey was threatening our homes with flooding I moved my books to higher ground lest they be damaged if the water came in through my walls. I did that because I had learned the value of reading from my infancy into the present moment.
We too often quibble and grumble about reluctant readers but when it is time to reallocate funds we take away the libraries and shut down the newspapers. We turn reading into a kind of algorithm of rules and questions to determine comprehension. We set timers and ignore the reality that many of our students have little or no access to books. Then we complain that literacy is falling and we point fingers at the teachers being pushed to teach from scripts while the librarians are ushered out the door.
Creating avid readers begins when we are young. All it takes is the loving presence of someone who shows they care by making reading fun. We need only change the emphasis of instructions from test scores to so the joy that reading brings into life. It can and should be the focus of education with opportunities for all.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 