As a kid, I loved to read. Both my mom and grandmother love to read, and I was read to frequently. My grandmother took me to the public library at least once a week every summer, and I loved these trips to the library, listening to books read-aloud downstairs in the kids area, searching the shelves for that "just right" book, studying the characters and relating to them. Reading a book was like an adventure to me.
Then came junior high, probably the least favorite years of my life thus far. I wanted so badly to fit in, to be cool, and popular. From my perspective as a 12 year-old, reading and being in the gifted class did not help make one cool. I dropped out of the gifted class in 7th grade because I wanted to be "normal." I wanted to be a cheerleader above anything else. I finally made the cheerleading squad in the spring of 8th grade, after 2 unsuccessful try-outs. At this point, I quit taking piano lessons (which I had taken for over 6 years). I also stopped reading. Suddenly, I didn't enjoy reading...or so I said. I no longer wanted to be "the smart kid." Every year I had been voted "Most Intelligent" in our grade. I hated that more than anything. I told everyone, I think in 9th grade, to please not vote for me for that any more. So I was a "cool" cheerleader. I made friends with the popular girls. I thought this would bring me happiness. Don't get me wrong, I truly enjoyed cheerleading, and I made great friends, some of whom I'm still close to today. I had been a gymnast when in elementary school, and cheering was a great fit for me. I just wished I hadn't felt the need to give up other parts of me and that I hadn't conformed to what I thought I was supposed to be.
In college, I wasn't so concerned about all of this any more. I actually admitted that I enjoyed writing and proofreading papers. I found that I was accepted for who I was by most people around me. I had a fabulous college experience. I enjoyed reading for school, but I still didn't make much time for my personal reading.
This all came to mind today as I was sitting in Barnes & Noble, while my hubby was in class. I was actually reading a book about teaching reading, called Reading with Meaning, by Debbie Miller. It was one I had heard all about and wanted to read for a while. Yesterday, I decided to go into Barnes & Noble for lack of anything better to do. Most of you probably know me well enough to know that I don't like being alone. This was a big step for me to go into B & N alone because I feel so awkward just sitting by myself in front of other people. Crazy, I know. I had the best time sitting by the cafe with a book and my Starbucks drink in hand, which definitely helped calm my nerves. I could so relate to Debbie's words about teaching primary children reading. I laughed, smiled, and even teared up as I read each page. I remembered how much I love to read! Many times I've heard that in order to teach children to read, you have to be a reader. To teach them to truly love reading, you must model a love of reading. So here I am at 25 year old, returning to my love of reading. I'm no longer ashamed but proud of it. I'm currently reading 3 different books, 2 nonfiction and 1 fiction. I purchased 4 books today, including 2 for my students. I even paid to become a Barnes & Noble member. I figure with all the reading I have planned, the discount will come in handy, and the fact that the discount works at their Starbucks too was a big motivator. Here's to reading!
