The three little pigs

When your kids grow up and move out, some things get left behind, like photo albums, and children’s books.

The photo above is a favorite. Not just because it shows our younger son absorbed in the story of the three little pigs, but because of what it tells me about books and children.

Pictures are powerful, even before the words can be understood. Both our young sons would sit with books they loved, poring over the pictures, looking for hidden treasures, thirsty for the story that could be found just by looking.

It’s a magical feeling, – entering into another world, with characters you don’t know, but who feel familiar, nonetheless.

I think that’s why I do the work I do now. I want every child to have that experience, to have a book of their very own that can become worn from being read and re-read, dropped in a puddle, or scribbled on.

Recently, I bought a children’s book at a thrift store, it had ink scribbles on every page. They looked random at first, but then I realized they never obscured the words, or the pictures. They were deliberate. They were drawings. Go figure. . .

I used to think that every child had lots of books to choose from in their home. Turns out, I was wrong. Children who live in poverty rarely have books at home. It can be for many reasons, but the fact remains that they can’t sit and study a picture of the three little pigs for as long as they like. Not when they don’t have the book at home, waiting for them to take it off the shelf and jump in.

I also used to think that almost every kid could read by the time they reached 2nd grade. Turns out, I was wrong about that, too. I learned this, not by reading studies of childhood literacy, but by sitting next to a 2nd grader while trying to help him with a math worksheet.

He had been the one who knew all the answers when the class of 18 kids had been introduced to the math lesson. As an aide in the class, I didn’t even look over to where he was sitting once the kids went back to their own desks. I thought he would be fine doing the work. When I finally walked over to see why he wasn’t doing anything, he looked up and frowned. I sat down next to him and asked what was wrong. He just shook his head. I looked at his sheet and saw it was untouched. I told him that he knew all this stuff, I’d heard him answer the teacher just a few minutes ago! He just kept looking down. I started reading the word problem, asking him about the math as we went. He knew the answers without missing a beat. It was the reading he couldn’t do. Not even close.

That was my introduction. Since then, I have talked to numerous educators, social workers, principals and other experts on the topic of early literacy. It is a depressing topic, especially where children from very under- privileged families are concerned. Reading is a learned skill. Period. No one learns to read by osmosis, it is something that takes instruction and repetition, – like any skill.

For all of us who were surrounded by books as children, who feel like we could always read, who can’t imagine not being able to read with understanding and ease I say, “Bully for us. But that is not the point.” If you look back, you will undoubtedly be able to point to the conditions that enabled you to flourish as a reader: books in the home; parents who read, or valued reading; bags full of library books; adults who encouraged you, and made time for you. But, we have to ask ourselves two hard questions: What if we had not known our ABCs before we walked into that terrifying, foreign, magical place we call kindergarten ? What if everything that brought others such joy, made us feel sick with apprehension and shame? What then?

My second grade friend taught me not to assume that smart kids can read. He also taught how much I didn’t know about kids’ lives, and what they struggle with, day in and day out.

Shame on me.

As the adults, we need to look at these things clearly, so that we can find ways to help. Because kids can’t tell us. They think it’s their fault. That they just aren’t good enough, or smart enough. But that’s where they’re wrong. They are good enough, and they are smart enough.

I am not an expert on childhood poverty, or low literacy rates, but I am a student of them. And I know that some things help. Things I can do something about, without being an expert.

I can get up in the morning and figure out how to get books into kids’ homes whose parents can’t afford them. I can create and hand out activity books that encourage reading and active play (which is proven to enhance literacy learning) at local food banks and Title 1 schools. I can encourage those of you who read this essay to do the same. And I can tell you that I will help you in any way I can.

That’s what the kids who are sitting in the corner, unable to make sense of the letters on the page in front of them, hope someone is doing.

We can all help a child make sense of words, just as they make sense of pictures. We just have to try.

To learn more go to:

Team Long Run: Giving kids a running start through active play and early reading.

www.teamlongrun.org

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