Strong (Avid) Readers

I’ve decided to devote this summer in the name of relearning how to be a literacy teacher.  Since the #soldastory podcast and instantaneous implementation of Science of Reading programs, I realized I know virtually nothing about literacy education (That’s not true, but…) With a few weeks before summer school starts, I am taking several Science of Reading courses.  Still being a teacher, I have the certification credits to obtain, so why waste an opportunity?

Watching one of the webinar courses, the introduction stated, “Strong readers don’t always innately teach reading.”

 I’m not surprised by this, to be honest. After all, one of my major successes working with students is the fact that I am a strong reader, but not an avid reader, or as my students say, “I like reading, I just don’t like to do it all the time.”  There are many factors related to this that inhibit my reading and their reading, and bring us together to find enjoyment and a purpose to become strong readers and perhaps avid readers. 

Students feel shame in association with reading is that they are struggling at something their peers are already good at and something they want to be good at.  This is where I am most effective as a literacy teacher because I’m not an avid reader, but I consider myself to be a strong reader – which is how many of my students identify. To be honest, my students love it. This is what they want Their eyes open up wide when they realize they have a teacher who has difficulties concentrating and finding the right book.

As I have written before, I am pen and highlighter reading.  Pleasure reading (which can often be synonymous with being a “strong” reader) is very boring to me. I cannot understand why someone might sit down and read fiction for enjoyment. I know. This disqualifies me as a reading teacher, but it’s this attribute that helps me tune in, connect, and empathize with the maturing readers in the classroom who are desperately seeking the hows and why their peers can read so “naturally.” More importantly, it’s the attribute that allows students to trust me, that it’s ok to see a mirror image of themselves.

It’s not that I don’t want to read. Much like many readers I teach, they too want to read.

·         We check out books from the library.

·         We carry a book when we go places.

·         We have a lot of books we want to read (so many it’s actually overwhelming)

·         We cannot find the time to read in place we can “just get lost in a book.”

·         We cannot get comfortable enough physically to relax during reading.

·         We cannot stop our brains from racing long enough to stop thinking about other things and be mindful.

So, we quit. We see the success and praise others are getting. So, we give up (Followed by being told we need to have a “growth mindset.” Congratulations to all those who are celebrating what they are reading and how much they love it. Herein lies a general inequity in our classrooms that favors the haves and have-nots. We must tip the scale to lift up those readers who need us to help them find a path.

At literacy conferences, I’ve been asked, what do you do if you’re an avid reader and you cannot connect with students who are not?  As one teacher (and parents) once told me, “I struggle because I cannot understand why they wouldn’t want to read.  I was such a reader when I was that age.” 

Overcoming the disconnect between the teacher who is an avid reader and the student who struggles to enjoy reading requires a shift in mindset. When we are teaching students how to read, it cannot be about how well we read, how much we read, or how much we loved reading as children.  This only informs students and reinforces what they already know – they are inadequate. The shift in mindset is what Brene Brown tells us – find out what their story is.  Why is it they have a hard time reading?  What gets in their way?  What do they seek to become as readers? And if they can articulate it, what do they need from us?

 A lot of times it’s really about accountability (what did you read. How did you make it happen and how do you feel about it) and interest in their perception (What was it like to read? What did the book do for you? What are you taking away from the book.)

To that end, I do struggle with certain readers. One of the errors of my ways is that I cannot help strong or avid readers in my classroom. Students end up in my classroom under the assumption I love reading and inhaling books. We end up mismatched. Such already know how to read, but they may not be strong readers. They’ve engrained a reading process that has brought about success. They don’t like using strategies. And to teach them strategic reading – to become stronger readers – is an indictment against who they are as readers (which unintentionally transfers shame). Thus, relearning to read is a devastating blow to their identity as a reader, which becomes internalized shame. That being, “I’m no longer good (at what I used to love).” So where they love to read goes up against my strong reading, and things go wrong.

Most of all students need to know that we are interested in them as readers. That’s not even how much they read, but how they are making reading work in their lives.  Students assume we are literacy teachers because we love to read. That’s the very reason my students are always so shocked when they hear how difficult it is for me to read (vs. being a good reader) and empathetic pathways are built, giving students some confidence to know that they are not alone in their struggles, but that there is a pathway to success as well.

So, I would have to agree with the Science of Reading principal that reading a lot doesn’t always make a person an effective literacy teacher, it’s about knowing the struggles, finding the right processes, and working through those challenges, with students to find that joy, an authentic purpose for reading. That also means putting ourselves aside.

Oh, and one more thing. Not every student becomes an instantaneous reader. Some really fight all year to incorporate reading into their lives.  It just doesn’t happen for a variety of reasons. This is ok to.  They know I’m there to support them and be beside them because I remember those times when I couldn’t pull things together to even consider the idea of opening a book.

Finally, the Science of Reading has a lot of stuff that is right. But it’s the compassion and empathy of what it takes to be a reader, from us, to help students feel like they can identify as a reader, which predicates our mentor-apprentice relationship in reading. I may have to relearn a lot about literacy instruction, yet one thing remains tI’ve decided to sacrifice this summer in the name of relearning how to be a literacy teacher.  Since the #soldastory podcast and instantaneous implementation of Science of Reading programs, I realized I know virtually nothing about literacy education (That’s not true, but…) With a few weeks before summer school starts, I am taking several Science of Reading courses.  Still being a teacher, I have the certification credits to obtain, so why waste an opportunity?

Watching one of the webinar courses, the introduction stated, “Strong readers don’t always innately teach reading.”

 I’m not surprised by this, to be honest. After all, one of my major successes working with students is the fact that I am a strong reader, but not an avid reader, or as my students say, “I like reading, I just don’t like to do it all the time.”  There are many factors related to this that inhibit my reading and their reading, and bring us together to find enjoyment and a purpose to become strong readers and perhaps avid readers. 

Students feel shame in association with reading is that they are struggling at something their peers are already good at and something they want to be good at.  This is where I am most effective as a literacy teacher because I’m not an avid reader, but I consider myself to be a strong reader – which is how many of my students identify. To be honest, my students love it. This is what they want Their eyes open up wide when they realize they have a teacher who has difficulties concentrating and finding the right book.

As I have written before, I am pen and highlighter reading.  Pleasure reading (which can often be synonymous with being a “strong” reader) is very boring to me. I cannot understand why someone might sit down and read fiction for enjoyment. I know. This disqualifies me as a reading teacher, but it’s this attribute that helps me tune in, connect, and empathize with the maturing readers in the classroom who are desperately seeking the hows and why their peers can read so “naturally.” More importantly, it’s the attribute that allows students to trust me, that it’s ok to see a mirror image of themselves.

It’s not that I don’t want to read. Much like many readers I teach, they too want to read.

·         We check out books from the library.

·         We carry a book when we go places.

·         We have a lot of books we want to read (so many it’s actually overwhelming)

·         We cannot find the time to read in place we can “just get lost in a book.”

·         We cannot get comfortable enough physically to relax during reading.

·         We cannot stop our brains from racing long enough to stop thinking about other things and be mindful.

So, we quit. We see the success and praise others are getting. So, we give up (Followed by being told we need to have a “growth mindset.” Congratulations to all those who are celebrating what they are reading and how much they love it. Herein lies a general inequity in our classrooms that favors the haves and have-nots. We must tip the scale to lift up those readers who need us to help them find a path.

At literacy conferences, I’ve been asked, what do you do if you’re an avid reader and you cannot connect with students who are not?  As one teacher (and parents) once told me, “I struggle because I cannot understand why they wouldn’t want to read.  I was such a reader when I was that age.” 

Overcoming the disconnect between the teacher who is an avid reader and the student who struggles to enjoy reading requires a shift in mindset. When we are teaching students how to read, it cannot be about how well we read, how much we read, or how much we loved reading as children.  This only informs students and reinforces what they already know – they are inadequate. The shift in mindset is what Brene Brown tells us – find out what their story is.  Why is it they have a hard time reading?  What gets in their way?  What do they seek to become as readers? And if they can articulate it, what do they need from us?

 A lot of times it’s really about accountability (what did you read. How did you make it happen and how do you feel about it) and interest in their perception (What was it like to read? What did the book do for you? What are you taking away from the book.)

To that end, I do struggle with certain readers. One of the errors of my ways is that I cannot help strong or avid readers in my classroom. Students end up in my classroom under the assumption I love reading and inhaling books. We end up mismatched. Such already know how to read, but they may not be strong readers. They’ve engrained a reading process that has brought about success. They don’t like using strategies. And to teach them strategic reading – to become stronger readers – is an indictment against who they are as readers (which unintentionally transfers shame). Thus, relearning to read is a devastating blow to their identity as a reader, which becomes internalized shame. That being, “I’m no longer good (at what I used to love).” So where they love to read goes up against my strong reading, and things go wrong.

Most of all students need to know that we are interested in them as readers. That’s not even how much they read, but how they are making reading work in their lives.  Students assume we are literacy teachers because we love to read. That’s the very reason my students are always so shocked when they hear how difficult it is for me to read (vs. being a good reader) and empathetic pathways are built, giving students some confidence to know that they are not alone in their struggles, but that there is a pathway to success as well.

So, I would have to agree with the Science of Reading principal that reading a lot doesn’t always make a person an effective literacy teacher, it’s about knowing the struggles, finding the right processes, and working through those challenges, with students to find that joy, an authentic purpose for reading. That also means putting ourselves aside.

Oh, and one more thing. Not every student becomes an instantaneous reader. Some really fight all year to incorporate reading into their lives.  It just doesn’t happen for a variety of reasons. This is ok to.  They know I’m there to support them and be beside them because I remember those times when I couldn’t pull things together to even consider the idea of opening a book.

Finally, the Science of Reading has a lot of stuff that is right. But it’s the compassion and empathy of what it takes to be a reader, from us, to help students feel like they can identify as a reader, which predicates our mentor-apprentice relationship in reading. I may have to relearn a lot about literacy instruction, yet one thing remains true, reading is a process with many challenges.  Students need us and our experiences in overcoming those challenges to guide them into a life that includes reading. Strong readers know how to make texts work for them. They know the purpose for which they are reading, and they use processes to make the experience meaningful. That doesn’t always mean strong readers are avid readers.rue, reading is a process with many challenges.  Students need us and our experiences in overcoming those challenges to guide them into a life that includes reading. Strong readers know how to make texts work for them. They know the purpose for which they are reading, and they use processes to make the experience meaningful. That doesn’t always mean strong readers are avid readers.