I'm picking up a
thread from last week's post. While writing about my obsession with books, I
started to go off on a tangent about non-readers. No, no, I told myself, stay
on topic. So, I saved that thought to muse on today. I'm always surprised when
I hear people say they don't have time to read. Like everything else, we make
time for the things we enjoy. I'm more saddened when people say they don't like
to read. And I wonder how they got that way.
Did no one tell
them that reading is fun? Hang on. As writers, we're forever cautioned to show
not tell. So, let me rephrase that. Did no ever show them how much fun it is to read? Did no one read to them as
children? Did they never see their parents reading for enjoyment? Oh, sure, you
say. Blame it on the parents.
I don't remember
my parents reading to me. I'm sure Mom must have when I was little, but by the
time my memory kicks in I only remember Mom being too busy with the younger
kids (I'm the oldest of seven) to read to me. And Dad was always working. (It
wasn't until much later that I remember him reading, history mostly. Mom didn't
start reading for pleasure until I introduced her to romance novels back in the
'80s.) We didn't have many books at home when I was young. My grandmother
always gave each of us a book for Christmas and birthday. Money was tight for
everyone then. We lived in a rural area where the nearest public library was a
distance and the bookmobile only visited the school once a month and we were
limited on how many books we could check out. How I ever became an avid reader
is beyond me.
Still, I do
believe that's where the enjoyment of reading starts—parents reading to
children. Children seeing their parents reading. I read to my children when
they were babies, before they could understand language. It didn't matter what
I read out loud, it was the sound that was important. That's how they learn
language—by hearing it. My son-in-law read medical textbooks to his babies. My
daughter read out loud whatever book she was reading for enjoyment. We also
read kiddie books to the babies. Think about it. A baby being cuddled, Mom or
Dad's heart under their ear, hearing the sound of the parent's voice. Pure
pleasure. What a great association. Even my almost-two year old grandson who has two
speeds, fast and faster, will sit still for a book. Of course, their Nana and
Papa love it when the little ones crawl up into our laps with a book so the enjoyment goes both ways.
Babies are
sponges. They take in everything about their world. They are curious, eager to
learn. How do we kill that? By making reading a chore. "You have to read
for a half hour every day." Throw in the words "have to" and you
destroy whatever benefit daily reading was supposed to instill. There were
times when I was so overloaded with all the obligations of life that I would
have given anything to have a half hour to read. That isn't really the point,
is it?
So, what happens
when those eager little sponges go off to school? Is reading still fun? It's a
subject to learn—like math and spelling and state capitals. To make it easier
to handle, the teacher divides the kids by reading ability into groups. (At
least, that's what we did when I taught elementary school—back in the Dark Ages.
Do they still do this?) No matter how we sugar-coated reality by giving the
groups cutesy names (remember Bluebirds?) every kid quickly knew which group
was which. And kids in the group with least ability were stigmatized. Who
wouldn't give up?
Oh, wait, it
gets worse. Kids are told not to read
certain things, like comic books or Harry Potter. I've always maintained that
any reading is great. Look at the phenomenon that the Potter series has wrought.
Kids devouring books. Did you ever see kids waiting in line at the show reading
(rather, rereading) the book on which the movie is based before? I never did. And
when they had to wait for each book, they discovered other series books like Percy
Jackson, I Am Number Four, or The Hunger Games. Like they couldn't get
enough adventure.
As a fifth
grader, I was told to put that book away and stop wasting my time reading. Never
mind it was while I was supposed to be doing math. Never mind the teacher
didn't ask if I was finished with said math. To this day, I remember being told
not to waste time reading. Can you imagine?
Sounds like I'm
blaming teachers, right? There has to be a better way of helping children learn
to read. With huge classes (I had forty-two first graders in my first year
teaching), how is one person supposed to reach each child individually?
Okay, I'm going off
on a tangent and turning "musing" into a rant over education. I do
want to add that good teachers try very hard to reach all students. They
encourage reading. They show that reading can be fun and not a chore. I wasn't
always successful as a teacher, but I read out loud to my students. To the
younger ones, I read Charlotte's Web
and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,
among others. To the older ones, A
Wrinkle in Time and The Hobbit.
Even the sixth graders listened eagerly to Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang,
which was nothing like the saccharine Disney movie rendering. The best part
about reading out loud for fifteen minutes after lunch was when the kids begged
me not to stop. No, the best part was when a student came in the next day with the
same book and said s/he couldn't wait for me to finish the story and had to
find out how it ended.
Reading is so
important in our lives. Remember the PSA ad "Reading is FUNdamental"?
Emphasis on "fun" but also how essential it is. Kids who learn that
reading is fun will find it easier to read things that are necessary—like computer
software manuals (which I have to say I only read after I get stuck) or in-depth
news reports on candidates for elected office or business reports for their
jobs.
To earn a college
degree, I had to read a lot—history, literature, sociology, philosophy,
science. Some I enjoyed. Others? Well, let's just say I slogged through a lot
of words. Still, college wasn't overwhelming because I could read well. I could
read well because I read a lot. The adage "practice makes perfect"
certainly applies here. But, after I read all the things necessary for my
education and subsequent jobs, I relaxed by reading what I wanted to—for fun.
People who find
reading difficult or say they do not like to read miss so much. They miss the
wonder of other worlds—and I'm not just talking about alien universes, like
what I write. They miss the wonder of other times, other places, people whose
life circumstances are different from the reader's. They miss the fun.
I'm preaching to
the choir, right?
I so agree! I've always considered the ability to read and to have books to read as one of life's greatest gifts. My mother loved to read, so I guess she passed that on to me. She lost her sight in later years, and it was a huge loss because she could no longer read. One of my older sisters (also an avid reader) has lost her sight to the same disease, but she has her audio reader and so listens to books now. I hope I never lose my ability to read but if I do, I will have to hire someone to record all the books still on my To Be Read shelf! There will always be plenty.
ReplyDeleteLucy, I love audio books. I used to listen to them during my 30-minute (each way) commute every day. My son gave me the whole set of Narnia books read by famous British actors. I love it.
DeleteHi Diane! I remember my mom reading those confession magazines, LOL. Little did I know I'd develope a thing for reading romance, too. I agree, it's a missed op if one doesn't read to a child. I loved reading to my kids and smelling them. Weird, I know, but reading time was usually after bath or for a nap and the kids would nestle on my lap, I'd be checking heads. LOL. Loved your post!
ReplyDeleteTeresa, I know what you mean about the smell. My grandchildren are used to being read to before bed. I practically beg my daughter to let me do it whenever we visit.
DeleteGreat post, Diane. I enjoyed reading to my children and love reading to my grandchildren. But I was a bit backwards:-) My mother loved to read and tried numerous times through my childhood to get me interested. I wasn't. Then when I was a young mother, mom and I were shopping on my B-day, and she pointed to a Harlequin and asked if she bought it for me, would I read it? Didn't want to disappoint, so said I would and that book did it, I was hooked! Take care all, Alice
ReplyDeleteHi, Alice. It's so good to hear from you. I remember reading my first Harlequin. I couldn't get enough. I, too, was hooked on romances. Thanks for adding to this topic.
ReplyDeleteI sure do like the way you 'muse', Diane. Very interesting post. When I was babysitting my then nine month old granddaughter, I 'read' her my latest edits as I proofed them. The look on her face was priceless. She was REALLY listening. Lately we're into all things Minnie and Mickey. :) Oh, and Handy Manny. Gotta love the diversity.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing.
Thanks, Margo. Speaking of diversity...when my kids were little we lived in the Detroit-area. They watched American Sesame Street and learned Spanish. Then, we tuned to Canadian Sesame Street (Windsor channel) & they learned French. I loved it!
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