What's the Rush?

Last week I read an article in the New York Times about rushing kids into chapter books and the troubled future of the publishing of picture books. I have been milling about it for a few days.

I am bothered by the assumption that reading longer is better. I think reading only chapter books is a huge disservice to children. Children need to read well-written picture books for many reasons. First, visual literacy (artistic elements and methods, use of space, telling stories with pictures and words) has incredible value, especially in our digital age where information is typically presented visually and words alone are not enough. Also, picture books lend themselves to an emotional reaction and rich vocabulary. But also, these texts are about the same length as stories we want children to write. Our young writers can feel how to move a story over pages and experience the structure of a piece similar to one they might use to scaffold their own storytelling. Close study of picture books is the most effective way I have found to teach writing.

Chapter books also have a vital role in reading. They aid children in developing stamina as readers and can help them build a strong identity as a reader. There are many fabulous chapter books written for the early set, many having plenty of pictures to aid in comprehension, problem solving, and enjoyment. I think there is nothing better than the chapter books that changed my life as a child: the Frog and Toad series, "My Father's Dragon", "Ramona the Pest", and "From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler."

But a diet of chapter books only is like a diet of chicken only. Sure- you need protein, but you need other things, too. Children need exposure to magazines, short stories, poetry, picture books, and nonfiction. (I would love the NYT to talk about the boon in publishing of children's nonfiction.) Different kinds of texts require different reading strategies and life experiences to support understanding.

But in reading the article, its comments (387 so far) and the follow-up letters to the editor, I am left asking "What's the rush?" and "Why isn't Shelley Harwayne my neighbor?" Why are we pushing kids to read books at frustration level? This does not teach them how to read better or what it feels like to truly understand what you're reading.

I think this is a case of bad PR. Parents and teachers must live in the world in a way that demonstrates the value, art, and complexity of picture books. It is not about being harder or easier. It is not about pushing kids to read the next level. Teaching reading is about showing kids the value in responding to ideas and integrating them into their own lives. This is supported by word and comprehension strategies, but reading is always about making meaning. Every book you read, every conversation you have, every thought you think and every experience you have shapes who you become.

So, what's the rush? Slow down and go buy a picture book.

Watching and Wondering with Woodpeckers

Last Friday, Fran started the morning by offering some pretty specific instructions. He met Claudia and I at the bottom of the porch steps and told us to be quiet. We followed him into the driveway.

"Listen," he said, pointing up into the tree.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. We looked up and saw a white-and-black-and-tuft-of-red woodpecker peck, peck, pecking in the tree. We stood there together, watching and listening.

It was a fabulous start to our morning. So often we are running and rushing. But today we were still enough to listen. It always shocks me when I slow down and hear the birds singing, enjoying the start of their day. It reminds me to be quiet and notice the world more. Really, mornings are just fabulous.

We took Fran to school, still talking about our woodpecker morning. After drop-off, I let Claudia play with a friend on the playground with a buddy instead of rushing home for my run. She and her friend had a blast climbing on the ladders and hiding under the turtle and dropping some pebbles in the storm drain.

When we were leaving, Claude and her buddy stopped and crouched by the grass to watch a Monarch butterfly sitting in the grass, opening and closing its wings over and over again- either showing them off, drying the dew, or perhaps preparing to fly. I watched the children stay so still, watching the butterfly from just inches away.

Claude and I then said our good-byes to butterflies and friends and started to walk back the way back to the van. I was starting to go through our to-do list and plan out a running route in my mind when we heard it again: tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. We stopped and looked up to see a white-and-black-and-tuft-of-red woodpecker working on someone's house. I'd like to think it was the same woodpecker. I was glad to see him. He had arrived just in time to remind me to take a deep, full breath of the fall air.

Ready or Not...

Ahh...here we are relaxing and looking over beautiful Lake Michigan. The sun warmed our bodies and spirits and the water was refreshing. The lazy days of summer seemed endless.

But today is the last day of summer and it's a stinker--gray and cloudy. We were hoping for one last dip in the pool. It seems as if the weather today is sending us a clear message: It is time.

Our summer was eventful: Claudia has been wearing underpants for quite some time; Fran practiced swimming and floating in the big pool; we visited in Indy; we did summer reading for AADL, Nicola's, and Bach School; Amy and Jason got married on the beach and we had a week-long beach trip with Nana and Papa; we did drop-in writing on Tuesdays at 826 with Mrs. Z and Miss Chris; we had lots of BBQs and root beer; we went for bike rides and runs; we celebrated Gran's 88th birthday; we had playdates and camp weeks. We basked in the sun and savored its summer-ness.

As the warm pulls away and is replaced by fall, I am left feeling sad. First grade seems so much bigger than Kindergarten. I should just be excited. Fran's reading has changed so much this past year. He went from reading little books to reading Fox. (He even tried doing tricks on his bike like Fox in Fox Gets A Job to "impress the girls.") He does math in his head and explains his theories. He loves learning and first grade will be fabulous, but he really loves summer. Claudia will miss him terribly. It will be a big adjustment.





Ready or not... it is time.
Good-bye, summer.
Hello, fall.

Overheard...

Claudia was looking through a picturebook. She was intently looking at the pictures. Fran studied her for a bit and then asked, "Is she reading in her head?"

Swerve: A Lesson from Naomi Nye

This weekend, I went to hear the poet Naomi Shihab Nye speak at the Ann Arbor District Library. I loved hearing her writing in her own voice. But it was her presence that impressed me the most: firm, quiet, funny, compassionate, positive, kind, welcoming. The kind of presence I want to have- and sometimes have- and sometimes don't. The kind of presence I want my children to have in the world. The kind of presence that comes from feeling good in your own skin.

I was pleased with her praise for Ann Arbor Public Schools, relieved that writers notebooks in elementary and middle schools have the power to overshadow bad financial news in education. I lapped up her talk about how notebooks, libraries and newspapers (and clippings) fueled not only her writing, but her experience in the world. But what really stuck with me was her advice: swerve.

That's right: swerve. Naomi said, "On the path of daily obligation, if you take some kind of swerve, the best things happen. We'll remember 'the swerves.' Do something you didn't plan to do." As I sat listening to her, I evaluated my Sunday so far. I had swerved the day before and registered at the last minute for the Dexter-A2 Run. It was fabulous (even though I had not run for weeks and had a dreadful headcold). I took my children (sans husband!) to the Taste of Ann Arbor even though it was a busy, crazy day with a birthday party, poetry reading, and t-ball hanging in the midst. Fran tried chicken satay (no sauce) and Claudia gobbled Thai food. Also, we finally tried a Michigan bumpy cucpake- pure bliss! Fran strutted around holding the tickets and Blaine heard we were there and left work to see us (swerve!) and we went to the photo booth for the AADL and I hula-hooped in the street. We came home and dropped Claude off for a nap and I returned to the parking nightmare of downtown to hear Naomi. I snuck out early to run through a rainstorm to the van to go to take Claudia to a purple fairy birthday party for a cute 4 year-old and the boys went to t-ball where they were drenched in rain. So much swerving. What a great day.

So we'll keep swerving this summer (between Claudia's naps). We'll keep doing robot karaoke and picnics at the pool and kayaking on the Huron and biking to Summerfest and volunteering at Mott (coming soon!) and making books and taking time to read and write new things. Swerving is fodder for both writing and living.