I hope you enjoy it!
As long as I can remember, I’ve always been a lover of the
written word. As a kid I read anything I
could get my hands on. I devoured books by Montgomery, Lewis, and Tolkien, as
well as series like Nancy Drew, The Babysitter’s Club, even Sweet Valley High. I
haunted the school library, bonding over books with my elementary school librarian.
I racked up late fines at the public library. I got in trouble at school for reading ahead
during novel studies, or secretly reading in my desk when I was supposed to be
listening. I read The Princess Bride out
loud to anyone who would listen. I
missed my bus stop countless times, neglected my homework, read and re-read and
re-read again. Books were an adventure, an escape, as well as a place of
belonging. They still are.
I wasn’t born a reader. My grandmother, my mother, my older
sister, a few teachers, and one very special teacher-librarian all helped to
make me the book lover that I am today. Today when I look at my bookshelves, I
see books that represent the people who instilled that love of literature in
me.
Hardcover copies of The
Secret Garden and Jane Eyre,
given to me by my grandmother, sit on my shelf, next to my mother’s childhood Anne of Green Gables novels. I have a
battered copy of The Witch of Blackbird
Pond in my classroom library. I
borrowed it from my junior high language arts teacher and forgot to give it
back. Somehow I think she would forgive me if she knew. I also have a book of
fairy tales that Mrs. Austin gave me in grade two. She was a wonderful
teacher-librarian who took an interest in me. She made the school library feel
like home.
Most special of all, I have my sister’s worn and well-read
Lucy Maud Montgomery collection. My grandmother gave them to her, one book at a
time each Christmas and birthday. I remember borrowing them without permission,
hoarding them in my room until she came looking for them. After my sister
passed away a few years ago, I inherited them. Every time I look at them, I think of my
sister, a woman who, among other things, was a passionate reader.
Today, I try to instill a love of literature in my students.
I love to talk about books, to bond over bookshelves, to tell them about books
that touched me, spoke to me, or transformed me. I love to tell them about
books that made me laugh or cry, and the very special books that have burrowed
into my heart.
I believe that something magical happens when you share a
love of reading with kids. Books fly off the shelves. Students who are labeled
as non-readers become readers. Kids beg for more reading time. They wait with bated breath for the next
installment of the read aloud. They talk excitedly about the book they are
reading, recommending books to their friends, even forming impromptu book clubs.
Reading skills improve, often dramatically. Sometimes it just takes one perfect
book, and they are hooked. I believe that every child can become a reader.
To become readers, kids need to be surrounded by books. They
need school libraries and public libraries, as well as classroom libraries full
of books that come in all shapes and sizes. Not only certain books. Not only
award winners or literary classics. Not only “real” books pushed by the well-meaning
adults in their lives. Just books. They need silly books, books about farts, boogers,
and superheroes in underwear. They need books about cupcakes, bullies, and fights
with BFFs. They need comics and graphic novels, magazines and e-books. Most of
all, most important of all, they need books they can see themselves in, books
that truly become a part of them. They also need books that provide glimpses of
worlds they otherwise could never see. They need books that transform them,
that become a part of them.
I believe just one book, one conversation, and one adult can
transform a child into a reader. I believe that instilling a love of reading
can truly make a difference, sparking imaginations, opening doors, and
unlocking potential.
