My mother grew up an only child in a
tiny community of German speaking farmers in Minnesota. Her small family lived
in a ramshackle house, tending a farm they did not own. With no electricity or hot water, the holes
in the roof of that house meant that she could see the stars as she lay in her
bed at night. She had one book as a
child, a treasured copy of Peter Rabbit in English. Even though my grandmother was functionally
illiterate, she read that book again and again to her preschool daughter. On the first day of Grade 1 at the school in
town, my mother didn’t speak a word of English and was dressed in a flour sack
that had been sewn into a dress. Her poverty and language background set her
apart, but she soon made a wondrous discovery: the school library. She could check out a book every day and
bring it home. In high school, she chanced upon the dusty old town library and later
a bookmobile service that circulated books to country kids. Literacy and reading changed the course of my
mother’s life: she graduated as
valedictorian and went on to become a teacher, thus escaping the cycle of
poverty that ultimately claimed the lives of both her parents at far too young
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Reflecting back on my own childhood
I realize that my mother recreated a library in our home. Every wall was lined with neatly organized
bookshelves. Reading fills my childhood
memories--the cozy comfort of a parent reading me fairy tales as I was tucked
into bed, the window into the past that I got a peek through when I read The Little House on the Prairie, and
magic that danced before me as I read The
Secret Garden. I thrived in Language
Arts as a result of all that reading, but it wasn’t until I took English
Literature Honours in grade 12 that the power of the written word really hit
me. The merging of poetry and philosophy
blew my mind; it was as if Shelley was personally sharing the meaning of life
with me. I discovered the canon the same
year that Dead Poets Society was
released. As I sat entranced in the
darkness of the movie theatre, surrounded by my lit geek friends, the stage was set for one day becoming an English teacher, thus following my mother’s footsteps.
My becoming a mother closely
coincided with my shifting gears into teacher-librarianship. In both areas of my life, I have been privy
to the special magic that occurs when a child truly connects with a story. I witness it when I listen to my four year old
daughter recite Pinkalicious by heart
as she plays or when I notice my six year old son’s eyes drift off into another
world when I read The Magic Tree House
to him. I get almost an electrical
charge when a student, previously disengaged with reading, bounds into our
secondary school library before class because he has found a book that speaks
to him and he wants more. I believe that it is essential to provide choice in
order to inspire a joy of reading in every child.
Education is moving away from required
curriculum and towards a form of personalized inquiry that will require strong
levels of literacy in order to be successful.
By leading young people towards the richness of a reading life, we are
stoking the fire of their curiosity.
Yet, we cannot encourage passion by spoon feeding them what we want them to read. My job as a teacher-librarian is to provide a
connection between students, parents and teachers with the literacy practices
of today as well as with what is around the corner. Those connections all revolve around the
ever increasing choices that are available to our students.
Despite the current tension between shrinking
budgets and school libraries, my responsibility is build tomorrow’s library by
leading the charge for flexibility and personalization in reading today. I do this by advocating for funding. I research
and purchase the best titles available. I read.
I discuss and get feedback. I create individualized stacks of
alternatives for readers in pursuit of the next best novel. I book talk.
I promote independent reading and support willing teachers at every
opportunity. I extend beyond what is hot
in print fiction to include recreational non-fiction, graphic novels and
audiobooks. I talk up reading on
smartphones, tablets and eReaders.
Without a doubt, my job also entails connecting our readers with their
personal interests via fan sites, social cataloguing and social media. The
future of reading is about forging relationships with other readers on a level
that is far more rich and vast than what I experienced as a child. Students are discovering that if they tweet
an author, that author is likely to tweet them back. Degrees of separation are disappearing.
My mother was empowered when she
discovered all that was waiting for her in the school library. No one chose the books for her; she was
guided by her own interests. She used
that same autonomy when she created the prolific home library that filled her
daughters with ideas of their own. I am now passing on that sense of self direction
to my children when they pick their books each night and I hope I am passing it
on to my students when I model and promote the richness of reading in its many
evolving forms. We are on the cusp of a
revolution in literacy and education.
Literacy will thrive by offering our young readers choice, not only in
what they read, but also in which format they will read it and in how they will opt to participate in that reading experience. It is a brilliant time to be a
teacher-librarian.
