When my children were in elementary school, I was always secretly infuriated when they'd bring home the information on the "pizza-for-books" program each year. The idea of the program was to reward children for reading by allowing them to earn a coupon for a free pizza after reading a certain number of books.

In our house reading was part of day-to-day life, not just for the children but for their father and me. There was no need to reward my children for having interest in reading; and it seemed to me that the "pizza-for-books" program instead sent the message that reading is an unpleasant task for which one needs incentives. I was quite happy to have three children who loved books, and I worried that this "message" could have a negative impact on them. Further, I was somewhat disappointed in a school system that didn't seem to notice the message this program could potentially be sending.

All three have always loved reading; and today, now that they’re grown, they’re still people for whom reading is a part of life.

A Tale of Three Students – Each Different, Each of Whom Loved to Read, Each of Whom Grew Up to See Reading As A Part of Life

This story is about three different students, all of whom happen to be my own three, now grown, children. One was a boy with a learning problem. One was a boy who was well ahead of his grade level, was born prematurely (which is information I offer only to reassure the parents of premies), and who happened to be the middle child in a family of three. The third was a girl, the youngest child and only girl, who was also well ahead of grade level in school.

My first son was a child who had some learning problems in early elementary school. He happens to have been adopted as an infant, and his medical history included plenty of potential causes of his learning disability. It was not until he entered kindergarten that his “visual-perceptual learning problem” became apparent. In general, he had been a child who was able to do most "school-type" activities quite early. He had even recognized letters and numbers very early, which was one reason it was hard to believe he had any trouble processing those letters once he was old enough to try to read. Even with the school troubles, though, my son was fascinated by books and reading.

My younger son and daughter were just like their brother when it came to loving books and reading. The difference was that it reading came naturally for these two. These were little folks who began to recognize, without any prodding, individual words before reaching three years old. At three they seemed to be learning to spell on their own. I recall my three-year-old daughter drawing a picture of the Easter Bunny. She wanted to "title" her drawing but couldn't spell "Easter Bunny", so she wrote "E Bunny" instead. She and her brother just became used to using initials or creating their own words for fun. For example, they'd call pizza, "peetz", and spell it their own way. They were naturally comfortable with letters and words, and never seemed to view words as "letters on a page". Instead, it was as if they were learning how to use (and play with) letters and words long before they tried to read books. It was, of course, absolutely wonderful for me to see this almost strange comfort with letters and words after dealing with my first son's struggles. Both were kids who read well above grade level from first grade on. A third-grade test given to my daughter's class revealed she had a high-school reading level.

Their older brother, however, was an enigma in his own way; because even though he continued to struggle with school, he was teaching himself from books and magazines at home. He'd bring a stack of books to bed with him each night and read for about an hour before sleeping. Sometimes he'd challenge himself to learn one thing or another. He was in fourth grade when he proudly demonstrated that he had memorized a large number of nations and their capitals. For some reason he was particularly interested in the "less well known" nations. Once he learned the major cities/provinces of a country he began making it a point to learn where they were located on the globe. This was a child for whom I was at school meeting regularly, discussing possible ways of addressing my son's struggles. His "independent study" didn't do much to help his grades, but it helped me to know that when teachers actually predicted he may grow up illiterate (yes, they used the word, "illiterate") I knew they were not correct.

During his elementary school years, my son started to show that he actually had picked up phonics to some degree. He spelled words he wrote with extremely basic phonetic spellings. He'd spell "phone", "fon". It allowed him to do things like write me notes, but it didn't help him when it came to school work. Whatever he was doing to read so well at home he could not do in school. Time constraints may have played a big role. Stress, too, most likely created yet additional concentration problems. Teachers clearly didn't seem to believe me when I told them what a reader he was at home. (I could see he was getting the information when he read to himself, but I assumed he must be doing it through some process he had developed on his own.) I had no doubt in my mind that my son had some problem with taking in the information being presented at school. I didn’t believe the teachers were wrong in their assessment that there was a problem. What I believed, however, was that they may have been more able to offer effective help had they believed me when I described what I observed at home. Instead, they disregarded my input as the words of a “biased” mother “who couldn’t see her son objectively” or else as wishful thinking. Instead, they used the word, “illiterate”; and when my son was in third grade one learning specialist advised him that he would be someone who should plan to “work with his hands” when he grew up. This same learning specialist was the one who had told my son she’d like to see his report card. When he showed her the report card (with “A’s” and “S’s” in everything but reading and math facts) this individual (who had somehow managed to get the Masters degree required to be a learning specialist) firmly told my son, “This is no good.” Clearly, if my son was to be encouraged not just to keep trying to read, but to keep his curiosity and interest in learning in general, I was on my own.

As for the younger children, by the time they were in third grade the issue of developing reading skill had become water under the bridge. The challenge with them was providing them with the kind of reading material that interested them. These were children who liked school, but they were also children who indicated a wish for more challenging work and reading. I knew that if they were to keep their curiosity to learn alive their needs had to be met. Their older brother had the same curiosity they had; but, of course, he had to overcome the hurdle of learning how to be able to process the written word. I wasn’t at all sure about how, exactly, to meet the academic needs of my three little students; but I was sure of a few things. One thing I was sure of was that, in a world where public schools don’t always do much for students who are well ahead of grade level; and where those same schools too often did not recognize the promise of children who didn’t get good grades; parents have to pick up the slack. I was sure that, no matter what kind of student a child is, most of the time schools will not or cannot give them adequate attention; so parents must. I was sure that sometimes a mother’s love does not result in blind bias and wishful thinking but that, instead, it is the very thing that allows her to see her child in the most realistic light (which includes seeing not just his less-than-great grades but in noticing the things that put those grades in a different perspective). I was sure that even children who get poor grades in reading and math facts have, in so many other ways, the very same curiosity and wish to learn that children for whom reading comes easily do. I was sure that, regardless of academic performance, all children deserve to have enjoyment of reading fostered. Perhaps most importantly, I was sure that in our home all children were seen as “equal”.

So, with the luxury of no restrictions placed on me by any school board or policies aimed at “what seems to work for most kids”; and in a setting where grades did not determine adults’ opinions of children; I went ahead and did the very thing that schools often say should not be done: I applied a “one-size-fits-all” approach to encouraging love of reading in all three of my little students. Their father and I read regularly, so seeing reading as a way of life just came naturally to our children. I put together a little “children’s library” (three bookcases and a bunch of smaller shelves and bins). The little “library” was filled with every book the children had ever owned since infancy. (We never got rid of any books because, for one thing, children often enjoy books that are “old friends”, even if they’ve outgrown the level at which the book is aimed; and for another thing, not throwing away or giving away books can help children see that books are special.)

Our little “library” was, however, also stocked with books and other reading material that was aimed at more advanced reading levels, ranging from children’s books to material aimed at adults (provided the subject matter was appropriate for children). My aim was not to limit “acquisitions” to only subjects in which my children had shown interest, but to include subjects that may capture their interest in something new. We included videos with educational value, as well as videos that were purely entertainment. In general, my aim was to offer a “scaled down” version of what any library offers; while also paying attention to the types of material that were most likely to capture a young reader’s interest. While stories often capture the interest of young readers, I knew, too, that “browsing books” had a way of catching the eyes of children. Books with lots of interesting pictures and brief descriptions allow children to browse as long as they want, study some pictures if they want, but also move on if that’s what they prefer. Material that makes children feel a little grown-up can sometimes be what captures their interest. My mother had always made sure we had all kinds of reading. She knew how kids like getting reading in the mail; so when I was three she got me a subscription to Humpty Dumpty magazine, and when I was about nine she began getting a subscription of Reader’s Digest “for everyone”. So, with an eye for offering a wide range of material in a wide range of reading levels, I continued to add to the children’s collection. Although, of course, the books were not thrown in the toy containers, they were there in the family room, along with the Legos, Care Bears, Transformers, and Barbie dolls. That’s the thing about books - children need to see them as “just one other thing to do for fun”. It worked.

My youngest son seemed to gravitate toward books related to history and how things work. He also loved books that showed him how to draw. Science, music, and any number of other subjects were also things my youngest son found interesting. My daughter had similar range of interests when it came to reading. To this day, both have very varied reading interests. My eldest son’s interests were more focused on adventure, music, and geography when he was a child. Once he got to seventh grade his reading ability had reached a level where he could enjoy fiction aimed at adult reading level.

With my eldest son, I was paying attention to signs of improved reading skill right up until he was about 18. What level of books he was able to understand was something to which I continued to pay attention. After all, it is absolutely sobering and terrifying to be told your child, who is so bright in so many ways, may grow up to be illiterate. (Before beginning guitar lessons he had taught himself quite a bit by reading guitar magazines and books, and that showed me yet another type of reading he could process.) He was around 18 when he began trying to learn about his own learning problems. In his enthusiasm to share with me what he had learned, my son would read from medical books, psychology books, and scientific material. He read aloud with the same fluency with which he (or anyone else) speaks. It was so clear to me that this young man, who was reading medical books aimed at "medical people" (not "dumbed down" for the non-medically trained), was far from illiterate. When a child has not struggled with a “mysterious learning problem” related to reading, parents take for granted that their eighteen-year-old son or daughter can read books aimed at college level or beyond. For me, seeing my son so comfortable with this level of books seemed, in a way, like a miracle; and yet, in other ways, was of no surprise to me. Still, after watching his struggles in school for all those years, and after trying for so long to unlock the mystery of his un-named learning problem, I didn’t take it for granted.

A few years ago, my daughter and her brothers were talking about different libraries; and I realized how all three children had grown up to be avid readers and regular visitors to libraries. Here were there three young people, with their own personalities and academic histories. One would grow up to graduate college and work in publishing. One would grow up and aim for degrees in Psychology. One would take isolated courses but never become a full-time college student. While he may have somehow managed to develop his reading ability, what this young man lost throughout his years of school made going to college “the conventional way” a little too challenging.

Still, in this tale of three students, all three grew up to be readers – not just two of them, but all three. The people who told me they believed my son would grow up to be “illiterate” were so wrong.

My education doesn’t happen to include the training to become a “learning specialist”, and yet somehow I always knew my son would not be illiterate. When it comes to background in helping children learn to read and to love reading, I think what most helped me have at least some idea of what children need is my own experience as a first-grader, learning to read.

As I said, my parents offered a home with lots of books and other reading material around. I recall being a young child, trying to read a few lines in the newspaper, which was always left somewhere nearby. Then I got to first-grade, anxious to learn to “really” read. Like so many other people, I began learning to “really” read on the Dick and Jane books. I found picking up the simple words easy, so when the teacher broke up the class into three reading groups I ended up in the “top” group. Even at six years old, I could tell that the other children in my group (mostly girls) could read the Dick and Jane books as well as I could. (Secretly, I had been frustrated at how long we had to stay on some words before moving on to something more interesting.) I also knew that the children in the “middle” group did not read quite as quickly as those in my group did, and I knew that the children in the “third” group (the “bottom” group) were kids who had a hard time reading. The third group was the smallest group; and even though this was a long time ago, that goes with statistics that say it is only a small percentage of students who truly struggle.

When the teacher first established the groups she invited us all to think of a name for our group. Of course, as first-graders, we weren’t even sure about what kind of name she had in mind. As a result, she offered us her idea for a name – “The Stars and Stripes”. We liked it, and so our group became “The Stars and Stripes”.

The children in the middle group had the same difficulty we did when it came to thinking up a name for their group. The teacher suggested, “The Red Sox”. Well, we lived just outside Boston; and everyone knew the Red Sox, so the children in that group were happy with that name. (I secretly thought “The Stars and Stripes” was better. After all, it was so patriotic. Even at six, I knew that something associated with our country was more impressive than something associated with a baseball team, Red Sox or not.)

The third group had the same problem coming up with a name for themselves, so the teacher suggested, “The Yankees”. I recall that she said, “’The Red Sox’ is taken, so how about ‘The Yankees’?” The children in that group agreed, and it somehow seemed obvious to me that they had gotten “the crummiest” name. The teacher may have just been thinking up the names of baseball teams, but I saw the Red Sox as the “best team” and the name, “The Yankees” as “whatever name was left once ‘Red Sox’ was taken.”

And so, as I sat in my circle with all the other members of “The Stars and Stripes”, I was not at all comfortable with the idea that our group, who happened to be “lucky enough” to be “the best readers” got what seemed like an elite name; while the middle group got what seemed to me like an “average” name; and the third group got “the only name that was left”. (The teacher actually used those words)

At six years old, I knew that it must be very difficult to be a kid who has a hard time learning to read in school. I had seen how nervously they struggled, and I could tell some of them were embarrassed.

I just wasn’t “ok” with the fact that my classmates’ group had been given a “crummy” name on top of it all. I don’t pretend that I was happy to be in “The Stars and Stripes” were nobody struggled and where we got to move onto the next book first; but my six-year-old thinking didn’t understand why we had to be broken up into groups, and why “The Yankees” were seated in a far corner of the classroom and given a teacher other than our “regular” one. We had been one, big, group of happy first-graders; and now we had been divided into thirds and labeled in a less-than-thoughtful way. It was good to get home, where people were just people and where reading was still untainted by groups, labels, and knowing that it doesn’t take long before schools turn reading into something that isn’t much fun for some children.

From first grade until seventh (when we moved away), those children in “The Yankees” would be the ones who struggled, got scolded, and were told their grades “were no good”. I saw how differently they were treated; and I just knew that even though I loved school and liked the teachers, their experience was not the same as mine. Maybe in other schools the teachers weren’t so blatant about the different ways they treated students who didn’t do well, but in that particular school it was quite obvious and disturbing.

Once I had grown up and had children of my own, I discovered that schools don’t just overlook or underestimate children who struggle. They also often overlook and underestimate the students who do well. Students who do well are often not recognized as students who need more challenge and who are, in fact, victims of “imposed underachieving” even if they get good grades. My children attended a school in an area where many, many, children would have benefited from more advanced work; but success was not measured in whether or not children’s academic needs were met but, instead, by whether or not children could get an “A” on their report card. These same schools, however, were where the child who got those “A’s” on everything BUT reading and math facts was told “this is no good”.

This “tale of three students” is really a tale of any number of students and of any number of schools, and the way things are done. It’s also about the kind of effort parents need to put in if they are to supplement their children’s education and/or immunize their struggling child against toxic attitudes and practices that are too often a part of education.

I know there’s only so much any of us can expect of public schools; but in this “tale of three students”, two of those students were neglected in many ways by public schools, and one was – quite simply – failed by them to the point where it was almost criminal. What nobody really knows is how many top-of-the-class students are, in fact, having their academic needs neglected; how many “average-grades” students are capable of doing better, and how many struggling students are told when they’re far too young that they belong to “The Yankees”.

How a boy who struggled so much in school grew up to be capable of reading medical and scientific material is something I still don’t know. Either he was picking up more in school than his grades, tests, and words showed; was learning on his own, was influenced somehow by me; or a combination of any of those. Regardless of how it happened, how misguided and ignorant it was for teachers to say he would grow up to be illiterate.

Why children with reading levels several grades ahead of their own are expected, in school, to be satisfied and motivated with material aimed at students reading at grade level is also something I don’t know. More importantly, why – when students get extremely high scores on standardized tests – schools apparently just file away the test results without adjusting the curriculum (or otherwise addressing the students’ academic needs) is yet something else I don’t understand.

And so, the moral to this “tale of three students” is that parents must be very careful about accepting assessments of their children’s potential. The other moral to this tale is that all parents should build a little library for their children; because whether their children are ahead academically, behind academically, or some combination of both; that access to books and other reading material at home could make a far bigger difference than many parents realize.

One other thought: That whole "Stars-and-Stripes" thing happened a very long time ago; but all these years later I think of how so many of my fellow first-graders really did notice that the "best" reading group got to select the "best" name and got to select it first. I can't help but wonder how an adult teacher (and a white-haired one at that) wouldn't realize the message she was sending. Maybe another moral to this "tale of three students" should also be that when school departments hire teachers they should look for candidates who are smart enough to give ALL the reading groups a baseball team's name, eliminate the name of favorite team for the area, and consider allowing the "third" reading group to select their name first. Even better might be the candidate who would see to it that that "third" reading group get to at least have a "more important" name like, "Stars and Stripes".

The fact is this "tale of three students" is really the "tale of any number of students across the country", because many, many, students have potential that schools don't do a very good job of identifying and addressing; and many students have learning problems that are not sufficiently understood, or addressed by, schools. It's a shame - just a crying shame (and if anyone thinks that, even all these years later, when I think of hearing the word, "illiterate", crying isn't still something I feel like doing, they are sadly mistaken).