Next year, I’ll begin a new role in our school as a Literacy Specialist. Initially, this position entailed teaching one class of partially-proficient readers at each grade level (the readers we know as “bubble kids” because they are right at the edge of being proficient). When I use this term, I always picture being able to fill that sweet “bubble kid” up- with enough enthusiasm, skill, and inertia- to let them pop to the other side of the chasm which is cut between partially-proficient and proficient readers. My principal, assistant principal and I had planned on having the rest of my time spent in classrooms working with small groups and with teachers. Sounds perfect, right? It’s my dream job. It always has been.
But it didn’t feel right.
If the bubble kids float over the chasm with my help, what do the other kids do? Sit and watch. Stare. Ignore us? Cope? Yep. They do all of those things as they realize they’re being left behind. We hadn’t planned on leaving them behind. We have interventions in place and we have skilled teachers who individualize and differentiate as students need, but it still didn’t feel right. The need is too high.
Luckily, my assistant principal and I both felt this “not right” feeling at just about the exact right moment, so there was no time wasted trying to convince the other person of what we needed to do: We’d fill my time with our kiddos who are hanging out on the wrong side of the chasm.
That felt right. But then I panicked!
I do not just want to try to help these kids. I will not just help them. I will make them readers. Period. End of story, as my dad always said.
That’s really not that hard of a task with most of our non-readers, right? A good classroom library, book talks, targeted instruction, conferring, goals, progress monitoring, teacher enthusiasm… In 13 years, I can’t think of a kid who didn’t have that aha moment we all had when we realized that we love reading. I still remember my own aha when I was in seventh grade and read The Outsiders with my teacher’s guidance. Then I went on to read And Then There Were None and Lord of the Flies the same year. My reading enthusiasm fluctuated for years until I was in college, when reading became a staple. I know that all my non-readers leave me with a newly uncovered appreciation for books, and many realize they actually love books. I know that that love either dies or flies as their lives change. I’m good with that. But until next year, the majority of my kids have come to me reading at the 25th percentile and higher. Next year, the game is changing.
I’ll need to instill a love of reading with these kiddos who can’t even see the chasm from were they stand. If the chasm is halfway between here and there, these kids have only seen others attempt the crossing and assumed that they aren’t up to the challenge. These kiddos have spent all of elementary school not being able to read. Many of them have come to hate reading because they can’t read- it’s not fun, it’s too hard, it’s embarrassing. It breaks my heart, and I won’t have it. So, we’re going to try something different.
This is what I know about becoming a reader:
- We learn to love reading on the laps of those we love. Picture yourself reading as a child. What is the lighting like? Where are you sitting? Who is with you, and how do you feel with them? Is there soft music in the background? Is someone cooking
dinner? Humans associate. We can’t help it. It is our nature. I know that I need to recreate this safe, comfortable, exploratory environment for my very lowest readers. What will I do? I’ll take my alternative seating further. My classroom will look like a family room. I talked with my principal today about ordering rocking chairs. You have to love this: His only question was, “We can do that. I mean, it’s not like you want thirty, right? Just a few?” I also talked with him about having a large, round table (much like the kitchen table we all grew up around) for our book groups to meet. I’ve never had a typical classroom setting, but next year, I’m giving it my all. I will do everything I can to help these kiddos correlate learning to read with comfort, kindness, safety, and companionship.
- We learn to love reading because someone let us pick books ourselves. Picture yourself reading as a child. Where were books displayed? Who was in charge of
taking care of the books? Who was in charge of buying books? When I was growing up, we had books everywhere. There were books on shelves, in piles, under our beds, on my parents’ bedroom shelves. We got to choose what was read to us each night, and as we began reading ourselves, we got to choose which books we read. As a teacher, this has always been nonnegotiable for me. Kids will choose their own books. I read a ton of YA LIT so that, if needed, I can match books to readers in terms of interest, level, or etc. But they’ll choose their own books. Period. End of story.
- We learn to love reading because someone showed us reading is loved. I vividly remember trips to our library with our dad: My dad is shuffling through each of our library cards, with the librarian grimacing, because we have too many books OUT and
LATE on this card or that card! My dad, my siblings and I parade out the sliding doors with armloads of books. I also remember my Grandma Phyllis reading to us the nights we spent at her house. Grandma Phyllis cherished books. Ah! The way she read, her interest in spending time on each page of a picture book, letting us each share one detail we noticed… Period. End of story.
These moments! Picking our own books, keeping books far past their due dates, books piling and spilling and left under our beds! These showed me that books are important. I really don’t remember my dad ever telling me books were important. I remember him reading. I remember my mom, my dad, and my grandma reading to us. I remember my older sister reading, reading, and then continuing to read more. I remember worrying that I was “not a reader” until seventh grade when I found chapter books I loved. I remember wondering “am I really a reader” until I went to college, when I had the ability to reflect, slow down, and remember all of my reading moments.
I’m not panicking anymore- at least not at the same level. Now, when I meet my kiddos who can’t see the edge of that chasm, I know what I need to do to help them build their bubble. And I know what I won’t do: I won’t start with formative assessments so that I can determine where they are and what they are lacking. I won’t show them all of our books and ask them to find one they like. I won’t put them through the awkward “get to know you” games. I won’t even tell them how incredible books really are. Nope.
I will welcome them to our space. I will ask them to come sit so I can read to them. And I’ll smile a lot. Read and smile. And when they come back the next day, I’ll read and smile. And read and smile and talk. And guess what? About three or four days in, someone will look over at our bookshelves. Someone will ask about our books. Someone will wonder if they can look at them. And then we’ll have our reader beginning. Just like I did. Just like you did. They’ll discover books.
P.S. Once they’ve done that, I’ll formative assess their little hearts out. I’ll show them books. I’ll ask them to find ones they like! I’ll tell them how incredible books are! But only after they’ve had a new reader beginning. Period. End of story.
Are you interested in reflecting on your own reading evolution in the effort to help students understand theirs? These reflection questions will help you begin:
- What are your earliest memories of reading? Do you remember reading before you could read words? Who read with you? How often?
- Did anyone in your family or close circle read often? What did they read? What did you learn from watching them?
- Think back to when you began school. What was reading instruction like? How did you feel about it?
- What reading experiences stand out as important to you? Positive or negative, these will give you insight into what students might need.
- What did you need from a teacher when you were a K-12 reader? If you were ahead of the class, what did you wish your teacher would do for you? If you were behind, what did you need? If you right in the middle, what were you wanting?
I’d love to hear from you as your think through these questions. Let’s keep this conversation going.