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Engaging Children's Literature
June 4, 2007
This summer-- I call it summermester-- I'm taking two courses: Children and Young Adult Literature, and Library Management. In T.W.U.'s summermester, a whole semester of work is crammed into two months—online. This had me worried-- until school actually started. Now I think I'll be too busy to worry about much of anything.
In an effort to get off on the right foot, I went to my local public library, and checked out the children's books I'll need to complete the first three modules. I had SO MUCH FUN browsing the children's stacks, people! As I don't have children, it's not something I often indulge in, but I love reading children's books, and my private collection continues to grow. Most recently, I've begun collecting the Sandra Boynton series, including Barnyard Dance and the Bellybutton Book, among others. I’m also the proud owner of John Pig’s Halloween, by Jan Waldron and David McPhail. Now that is a fun book! I am so happy to finally have an excuse to be there and do that—to spend quality time in the Children’s Library. And I get to go back again in a few weeks for MORE BOOKS! Life doesn't get much better than this.
Starting my research and required reading for the
Child and YA Lit class also reintroduced me to a host of old favorites from my own childhood-- and from my time as a nanny in New York. Our primary text (Jacobs, James. and Tunnell, Michael. 2004.
Children's Literature, Briefly (third edition).) provides a handy list of recommended children’s books in each genre. These are short lists, and the majority of books on them have won at least one award. It was an interesting reality-check to discover how many of the books listed are familiar to me-- either from my childhood, or because I've found them and bought them for children I know today. I started to realize how much of my love of books, libraries, and good literature stems from the extensive exposure I received throughout my childhood.
(Hi, Mom!)
As a result of this first module's reading and rooting around in the children's library, I've come up with a couple of hypotheses:
1) Librarians grow out of children who had regular access to quality literature.
2) Children who are encouraged to read quality literature for fun on a frequent basis become educated adults who continue to read and educate themselves.
3) Children who are able to identify with characters in books that encourage personal growth and greater compassion grow up to be more compassionate and capable adults.
We'll see how my hypotheses survive the semester.
I've already found some support for theory number two in my text book, where the argument is made that there are two kinds of readers: engaged, and unengaged. The unengaged reader is forced to pick up a book by a teacher or by necessity, but may never connect with what he or she is reading, and is very unlikely to continue any sort of reading once the requirement is met. The engaged reader, on the other hand, will forget time and place in their enjoyment of a good book. And from this experience, a life-long reading habit is likely to grow.
The insights presented about engaged reading were particularly helpful to me. You see, as an undergrad, I discovered that I had better recall of course materials if I read them as I would a novel—without stopping to take notes or highlight cogent points. Since I knew my approach to learning was unusual, I didn’t understand why it worked so well. The thing is—by tapping into my love of books and approaching these long, dry, intellectualized texts the same way I would a long, exciting, fun Harry Potter novel—I was engaging myself with the materials. I was ignoring the list of content questions sitting on my desk, and the need to remember each character’s name and affiliation for later rehashing in class. I was simply opening the door to that universe, that knowledge, and walking through. And once that door opened, I could go back and visit any time.
Makes me realize how important the role of recommended reading lists is—or could be—for library patrons today. If parents are less likely to introduce their children to quality literature, then the most likely place for a child to experience engaged reading is at the library. And the most likely person to introduce that literature to that child is you-- the Librarian.
I belong to several book clubs in the Pierce County Library System , even though I no longer live in Washington. These clubs are not the usual “meet and discuss what you read” scenarios, although those have definite merit. Instead, the Pierce County Reader Librarian, Suzanne, picks a book each week, and emails sections of the book to the list of patrons interested in that topic. Although we receive only a five-minute selection from the book each day, and read only a chapter or two before the next week starts, we get an idea of what the book is about. We get hooked.
One of the book clubs (read: recommended reading lists) I’ve joined is the “Good News Book Club.” And there in my email in-box each week day, I have words of encouragement from a fairly good book—by somebody’s standards. What a great way to start the day! Apparently, it is possible to appeal to an individual patron’s interests and tastes while still being both efficient and tech-savvy on the job.
What’s my point? Encouraging children—and adults—to read is something that doesn’t require face-to-face recruiting efforts. It doesn’t require test questions and artificial due-dates, either. The key is to get the reader engaged in the act of reading. And that can happen anywhere. Those personal connections forged between the literature and the person reading it are fodder for a life-long habit of reading and of learning. While it would be great if every child connected with a quality, award-winning book… the trick is getting them to read for fun—and not reading to meet someone else’s requirements. It’s pretty tough to engage with a book as you would a good friend when you’ve got that quiz coming up later on the impersonal materials and facts it contains. Trust me—I know.
Posted by Staci B Elliott on June 4, 2007 | Comments (4)