I got through high school reading what was assigned with little thought of why. Not that I read much before then. Middle school is a blank. I don’t remember anything I read. Elementary? I remember Ms. Illyes, my sixth grade teacher reading Tom Sawyer to the class. She read a chapter or two a day. We listened. I loved it. It was better than television… and I loved television more than anything. By high school, reading was done to get by. Nothing about it spoke to who I was or what I was experiencing.
Having spent the last thirty-five years in schools in one way or another, as teacher, university professor, and parent, I know kids read more today than they did when I was their age, at least more than my classmates and I read. They read more diverse texts than I knew existed when I was an adolescent. That includes texts about diverse people as well as different genres.
How and why kids read, however, hasn’t changed much since my day. What students know about reading, including what it can offer beyond academic success, isn’t much different than what I knew.
It was no surprise then to read that high school students read fewer full-length texts, e.g., novels, plays, etc., than ever before. They are more likely to read excerpts of classics (modern and historical) or canonical books, along with shorter essays and a young adult novel occasionally. This ensures they get a diversity of texts. It also is, I believe, a reflection of how digital technology and social media have changed what it means to read and, for youth, how they read. Sustained reading just isn’t a thing these days for most youth.
Although I’m not someone who abhors change or pines for the olden days, much about how reading is done in schools today bothers me. First and foremost, I agree kids should be reading diverse texts. No argument there. They should grapple with the experiences of characters who are different than them and be immersed into contexts unfamiliar to those in which they move. They should also be reading middle grade and young adult literature, where the diversity is most salient. And they should be reading different genres and texts written for different purposes and audiences. However, they should also be reading canonical and classical novels for the universality of themes, the complexity of narratives, and the opportunity to critique the inherent biases and prejudices that reflect the time and place in which those novels were written. Ideally, they should be reading all these types of texts alongside one another.
This begs the question how exactly this is supposed to be done. Teachers say the reason students are reading novel excerpts is because there is not enough time to read full-length novels. They are expected to teach a range of different type of texts, with greater emphasis placed on nonfiction and informational texts. That’s true. Yet none of this mitigates the value of reading texts, especially novels, that take weeks to get through.
It’s possible to read novels, plays, and works of nonfiction from beginning to end (hundreds of pages) and ensure students are still getting a breadth of perspectives and types of texts. It’s possible because so much classroom time is spent doing what I call tertiary reading activities (not to be confused with tertiary texts). These are activities related to reading and meant to improve reading that are not reading per se and usually not meaningful or relevant to students. If you don’t know what those are, think vocabulary, spelling, grammar, and punctuation. There are probably more but these four are my bugaboos.
I’m not saying these skills aren’t important or shouldn’t be taught. I’m saying we should stop spending large chunks of time on. The time saved can be used to read and to talk and write about what we read. That’s not to say there won’t be times when teachers need to directly instruct students—individually, in groups, or in the whole—on some aspect of vocabulary, spelling, grammar, or punctuation. Those times, however, should be short, and the instruction should be direct—what I call mini-lessons—with no repercussions for students who are struggling in these areas. Once taught, move on.
Based on my experiences in school, I’m betting that, on average, an hour to an hour-and-a-half of additional reading time will be gained each week. If teachers want to find even more reading time, get rid of reading worksheets—those graphic organizers and prefabricated fill-in-the-blank printouts—and use that time to read and to discuss what’s read. The more time spent reading (and talking and writing about reading), the more the bugaboo skills valued and needed to read and write will be practiced and discussed meaningfully. Yes, you can discuss grammar, vocabulary, spelling, and punctuation as you discuss meaning. Where better place to discuss them?
The added value of reclaiming time for reading will be two-fold. First, as already noted, students will spend a lot more class time reading and talking about what they read, mulling over the text and how it evolves (and how characters evolve). This will provide students the diversity of perspectives and text types needed to understand the multi-faceted nature and usefulness of reading.
The immersion into diverse perspectives will provide students opportunities to become thoughtful and empathetic adults who understanding the complexity of human life, past and present. By grappling with the lived circumstances of characters, both similar and different than them, over reading time and narrative timeline, students will become vested in the lives of characters and practiced in analyzing, critiquing, and reflecting on the evolution of narrative.
The second added value recognizes the importance of technology and how youth use it in juxtaposition to other ways of reading less familiar to them. Students are versed at find meaning in reading what is on their digital devices. Regardless of what teachers do, the importance of technology and how youth use it are not going to change.
Knowing how technology has transformed youth reading habits, teachers need to honor how students read digitally but be explicit about why they should read extended texts that are complex, complicated, and let’s face it, downright hard. This will only work if the reading of those texts is collaborative and explorative and, as often as possible, social. Student lives—their experiences and understanding—need to serve as a framing device for engaging texts much as their lives frame their digital reading. Beginning there, discussions can move outward to encompass new experiences garnered from the readings.
These two added values are what my high school reading experience lacked and what I believe is lacking for many students today. It is what Ms. Illyes’s reading of Tom Sawyer gave me in sixth grade—a chance to immerse fully in a narrative, on my own terms and with no bugaboos attached, allowing me and the Tom Sawyer of my imagination to share experiences over time.