literacy

Last week’s Washington Post article, “Question for the Ages: What Books When?” included some choice quotes from Jon Scieszka, newly minted U.S. National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature . “There is nothing sadder than making books only a school project,” Scieszka said. “Reluctant readers don’t want to be quizzed at the end of every chapter. They don’t want to feel like they are stupid.”

The article used this quote in the context of educators being “less willing to experiment with new or unusual books” in the face of No Child Left Behind. I’m sure there’s a lot to that, but to me, Scieszka's quote spoke less about the importance of teachers’ reading choices for their students and more about students’ own choices.

So, I was glad to see yesterday’s Chicago Tribune article, “In Praise of ‘Stupid Reading’: Author a Voice for Kids’ Choice”. It describes Scieszka’s support of all free-reading choices: comics, magazines, online stuff, audiobooks, nonfiction, ‘stupid’ books, and so on. People familiar with Scieszka’s work—his own writing or his literacy advocacy efforts—won’t find any surprises here. But it’s great that his message is being spread by the big-time media.

In the public library, from the school assignments I see, I feel like I’m seeing Scieszka’s message being taken half to heart. I see a lot of genre reading assignments for elementary school students; students are assigned to read a book of their choice that fits that month’s assigned genre. (This is in addition to books read as a class.) So, on the pro side, kids are responsible for choosing the book they read. On the con side, they’re still fulfilling requirements set by the teacher. It’s still, as Scieszka puts it, “only a school project.” It isn’t truly free reading.

The genre assignment that really kills me is “humorous fiction.” Nothing drains the funny from funny like analysis. Children will choose funny books all on their own (and God knows, there are plenty to choose from), so there’s something distinctly and distastefully ironic to me about requiring a child to read a funny book as part of a school assignment.

My hope is that in addition to group reading assignments and these genre reading assignments. But that seems like almost too much to hope, for the average kid. When so much energy is being spent on assigned reading, and “free” reading in the context of a school assignment, is there any left to simply enjoy?

As a librarian working in an on-average privileged community, I see a lot of bright kids—and even more pushy parents. I don’t mean “pushy” as in rude—though it happens, as in any community—but rather as in being extremely concerned about pushing their children toward academic achievement.

How many books their children read, and how thick they are, seems to be a bigger measure of status among parents than the kids themselves. We get no stronger proof than during our summer reading program, when kids look on, mortified, as their parents throw fits over page counts, when there’s nothing more at stake than a pencil, a beach ball, or a temporary tattoo.

We hear the phrase “exceptional reader” a lot. As in, “My first grader is an exceptional reader. He/she has read Harry Potter.” I’m sure there’s not a children’s librarian in this country who hasn’t heard that one, and probably hundreds of times at that. Harry Potter is the 21st century’s benchmark for literacy, it seems. One’s child has not truly “arrived” if she/he has not read Harry Potter. (Understood? Enjoyed? Not nearly as important!)

Of course, after 600+ page doorstops like the latter Harry Potter books, it’s hard to imagine how a slim volume like The Cricket in Times Square or Clementine could possibly measure up. Harry Potter has made—please pardon the expression—size queens of a whole new generation of readers and their parents. “Under 200 pages? Oh, my child couldn’t possibly… He/she is an exceptional reader, you know.”

The snark inside me wants to respond, “I know this great book called War and Peace your fourth grader might enjoy. Or how about The Stand?” But discretion is the better part of valor, yadda yadda.

Thursday, The Monkey Speaks posted about the challenge grade school teachers face when choosing age-appropriate (there’s another phrase I hear a dozen times a day) books to complement their curriculum, with a link to an interesting Washington Post article on that topic, “Question for the Ages: What Books When?”

The illuminating example given is Lester and Brown’s picture book Slave Ship to Freedom being denounced by parents as too violent for third graders because of its subject matter, while Treasure Island is dismissed as too easy for seventh graders. Many parents want their children to consistently read books the size of Harry Potter, but at the same time want to shelter their babies from the harsher aspects of reality.

I’m always relieved when I meet parents who recognize that their “exceptional reader” isn’t ready for the often darker subject matter of older middle grade and early YA books. They seem to accept more readily that size and subject matter are often positively correlated, and that size and quality aren't, and that maybe their child wouldn’t mind carrying a 150 page paperback for a change.

At the library, one of my greatest pet peeves (except that it's really more serious than a pet peeve) is parents disparaging their children's reading choices. Too often, comics and graphic novels are the target of their scorn. "Go find a real book! You're not reading that garbage." [Actual quote from a dad last week.]

Of course, anyone who knows anything about literacy knows that reading comics is a valuable pastime. Graphic novels can be great works of artistry and literature, as even the media elite have recognized. (Art Spiegelman's Maus won a Pulitzer, Gene Yang's American Born Chinese won the Printz last year, as just a couple examples. I guess you can add in Brian Selznick's Invention of Hugo Cabret picking up the Caldecott this year, too!)

But even works never destined to win big literary prizes, like Garfield or X-Men, aren't garbage. Comics entertain and inform as any other book, while building reading fluency. They're especially helpful to reluctant readers and visual learners, but can be appreciated by just about anyone - except those stodgy parents.

Craig Thompson takes a nice jab at those parents in his own highly artistic graphic novel Good-bye, Chunky Rice. Pawing through Chunky's box of belongings, Captain Chuck exclaims, "Oh ho comic books! My kids - Kenny, Doug, Greta & Patrick - will love them! I'd rather they be reading the Hardy Boys, but what the Hell..." The sentiment being, of course, that even mass-market, ghost-written series fiction is somehow superior to any comic book, no matter how lovely.

Besides, the kids at my library read plenty of so-called "real" books at school. Their brains are packed with Newbery winners and required reading in every genre. Every book is picked apart in class discussions and worksheets and book reports. If they want to relax with some Foxtrot or Shaman King, let 'em. By discouraging them from reading what they want to read, you'll only discourage them from reading, period.

All of this is to introduce that, a couple weeks ago, Jen Robinson posted a great round-up of links on encouraging reading through comic books.

And it looks like Buzz, Balls & Hype is starting a new feature by the The Graphic Novels Guy, with its first post about the publishing execs' slowness to acknowledge the appeal and import of graphic novels. I'll be looking for the recommended title, Tales from the Farm, by Jeff Lemire.