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The Reading Railroad

Some how, some way, I’ve managed to teach 5 children to read.

I don’t even remember a time when I didn’t know how to read. One day when I was 3 years old, I shocked my parents by reeling off the slogan on a shopping bag I had never seen before. When they started testing me they found out I could read most everything. Apparently I had picked it up somehow along the way.

2 of my children, my youngest two, did exactly that. They could just read. I have no explanation for it, I take no credit. It was something they just picked up naturally. They played phonics games on the tablet occasionally, I read to them, and then it seemed like one day they just KNEW.  My youngest son went from barely speaking – at age 3 he used only a few words and did not speak in sentences at all – to being able to read fluently in a year’s time, all on his own. It was truly magical. My oldest son, an avid reader, would have done the same thing if only I’d have left him alone long enough to let him do it. New moms.

With apologies to Mr. Tolstoy, I’ve come to believe that natural readers are all alike, but poor readers are each of them different in their own way. This seems to be the case with my children, anyway. Three of them were naturals like I was, two weren’t. My second son seemed to understand the general idea of reading just fine, but it took him a while to attain mastery. As he’s grown up, I’ve found he has the weakest memory of all my kids – while the others are quick studies, it takes him a little longer to file facts away for future use. It probably just took him some extra practice to really cement it in his brain. He also cannot hear and understand lyrics in songs. He says they sound like gibberish to him, and I’ve long wondered if there is a connection between the two, between him having a hard time straightening out the sounds that letters make in his mind, and having a hard time comprehending lyrics in music.

Then, there’s my 3rd son. His name is Tate, and he’s a dynamo. He crawled, stood up, and walked all in the same week, and has never stopped since. He was 7 months old when this happened. I know, sounds crazy, but he did. (Interestingly, my other slow reader also stood and walked freakishly early). Despite his rush to achieve every physical milestone on the doctor’s chart, for quite some time I did not think Tate would be able to learn to read, and I feared that I would not be able to teach him. He reversed his letters and numbers very badly. All kids do this, but with Tate, it went beyond normal reversal. It was constant, consistent. He read entire words backwards. Yet it didn’t seem to be dyslexia. He had none of the other markers. He understood rhyming patterns and recognized letters and the sounds they made with no trouble. He could tell the difference between d and b.  He just couldn’t seem to put sounds together into words. While he knew the rules of phonics perfectly, he seemed unable to apply them. He could see the same word again and again and again and never remember what it was. It was as if he encountered every word anew each time he read it. Reading was an exercise in slow torture for both of us.

The thing that was so puzzling about it all was that he didn’t seem to be a dumb kid. He’s very bright and has an excellent memory. He could memorize songs and poems with incredible ease.  He learned to tell time and to read Roman numerals – skills that my natural readers had struggled to master – in a matter of minutes. But reading was a no-go. No matter how hard I tried, how many methods and techniques and tricks of the trade that I used, it just did not seem to be something that he was made to do. We tried and failed and tried again and failed again. After each failure I’d back off and do more research and try some different approach, and this cycle went on for 2 years. He remained perfectly able to sound out all the individual letters, he just couldn’t put them together without a huge struggle. He couldn’t recognize words he’d seen a thousand times.

Eventually I discovered that he learned best by learning rules. He couldn’t recognize the shapes of words, that seemed to be beyond his capability, but he did understand the rules of phonics. So I focused on the rules, reminding him about them over and over again, until he internalized them to such an extent that he was doing it automatically without thinking about it any more. Over the course of time, after hours of practice (so many hours) he began to get smoother and faster and gradually he stopped stumbling over words he’d seen a million times before.  He did still make mistakes. For example, he would mix up the words “and” and “said” for nearly a year after he began reading. But as trouble spots like this arose, I would devise a new rule to govern them. For “and” and “said” I told him to look for quotation marks and if there weren’t any, the word was probably “and”. He caught on. I then went on to use the same method to teach him addition and subtraction as well, making a set of rules that he could understand, making additional rules as trouble spots popped up, and then using the rules and many hours (so very many hours) of practice until he finally mastered the facts.

I didn’t come across this method in any of my research. The Great Reading Debate rages on, Look-Say vs. Phonics vs. Whole Language vs. whatever trendy new method is the flavor of the moment, but none of them really helped me in the end. It took hours of observation, hours of one-on-one interaction, hours of trial and error. Researchers hunt for that Holy Grail, the one method that will teach all children to learn to read…but if poor readers are each of them different in their own way, maybe that one method doesn’t even exist.

I don’t think Tate would have learned to read well with any one of these “official” approaches alone. He seemed like the kind of kid who should learn well with phonics, but phonics readers didn’t have enough repetition. He couldn’t recognize words even after seeing them dozens of times. He needed more practice time per individual word than phonics readers provided. They were too focused on forcing kids to sound new words out constantly – practicing the rules, not the words. Tate knew the rules, he needed to practice reading the words.

It was only when I combined phonics with the repetition of the Look-Say method’s sight word readers (the old-fashioned Dick and Jane type) that he finally began to catch on. But he still hated to read. At that point I used the Whole Language approach’s emphasis on child-centered reading to make the experience more fun and less torture, ditching the readers and allowing him to select most of his reading material based on interest. The I Can Read books like Frog and Toad were great favorites. Once he caught on, Tate continued to progress at his own pace. This past school year he went from working at a first grade level to working at his true grade level, 3rd. He even reads for enjoyment sometimes, something I thought would never happen.

Every year or two, there’s a fanfare in the media about some revolutionary new teaching method that is finally going to be best for ALL kids. But when did they ever prove that any one method of teaching anything would be best for all kids? Not only do children all have their own unique brains, not only do schools throw together children 9-12 months apart in age and claim they’re all in the same “grade”, but they all have different life experience coming into school. Even if science had definitively proven that everyone’s brain acquires reading in roughly the same way (it hasn’t), surely a child who’s never been exposed to much written language would have different needs than a child who grew up in a print-rich home. A child who comes from a family that values learning highly would have different needs than a child who doesn’t. A child who grows up speaking Ukrainian would have different needs than a child who grows up speaking Spanish or Korean. All children cannot possibly have the same needs.

My mother taught second grade – kids about my son’s age, learning to read and write and do basic addition and subtraction – for the better part of 40 years. Second grade is arguably the most important year of school because the groundwork is laid for future achievement in both reading and mathematics, and of course achievement in other subjects depends upon reading and math abilities. She was as expert a 2nd grade teacher as ever there was, but instead of trusting her judgement and giving her a relatively free hand to do what she was good at, the school district continually was adopting revolutionary new programs that she would then have to implement in her classes. The previous method(s) would have to be scrapped entirely; the two could not exist side by side. Instead of relying on her considerable experience honed by teaching 2nd graders for decades, she’d have to attend seminars and study the new methods and tailor her lesson plans accordingly.  Years of work, of experience, of insight, totally disregarded in favor of something she’d never even seen before.

While the official timeline for textbook replacement is an average of 5-7 years, to spread out the costs most school districts follow a schedule where they replace the textbooks for one subject per year. So this is a constant process that requires teachers to be continually altering their teaching methods to accommodate whatever revolutionary new teaching method or program is coming down the pike. Districts will also replace books sooner than 5-7 years if there is a change in educational policy coming down from above, such as No Child Left Behind or Common Core, or if a trendy new method arrives to great fanfare.

Of course, no one would want children languishing with an inferior textbook based on bad or outdated research. But what if a teacher had found things to like about the old textbook? Is it sensible to assume that one method, even if it truly did work for every student, would work for every teacher? After all, teachers have teaching styles and preferred methods that may work better for them, just like students develop learning techniques that may work better for them. Experience matters. Teachers figure out what works for them and what works best for their individual students through trial and error, not unlike what I did when I was teaching my son to read.

If a textbook was good enough to be adopted to begin with, surely it isn’t unusably terrible? Textbooks are tools, not magical recipes that create intelligence through perfectly recited incantations. Yet the old books are tossed.  A teacher cannot continue using them even if they find that they work better. That’s against the rules. What a waste of years of a teacher’s wisdom and experience to have them start over again from square one, throwing away the tools they’re familiar with. Aren’t teachers capable of picking and choosing what works from a textbook and ignoring the stuff that doesn’t?

Is it reasonable to assume that any additional benefits of this Holy Grail of educational research, even if measurably better than other strategies, would offset the harm it causes – the harm of an experienced teacher having to discard everything they’re familiar with, comfortable with, in favor of something that may be only slightly better in the long run?? In the long run, another 5-7 years would have passed and/or a new educational trend would have come along and then THAT textbook series would have been abandoned. The focus on the search for revolutionary new teaching methods appears to me to simply be a recipe for creating teachers who never quite feel comfortable with what they’re doing. Teachers waste endless hours deciphering pseudoscientific jargon and attending seminars about how to implement these revolutionary methods. They’d probably be better off mastering the material they’re familiar with, that they find the most effective, and figuring out the strategies that work best for them and their students.

For students as well, this approach creates a problem. I recall as a child growing up, bouncing from program to program. We moved around a lot, and the schools I attended were constantly trying out new teaching methods. But the creators of textbook series design them to build upon themselves incrementally. What good are they to a child if you never get to experience them that way? Both reading and math skills build upon themselves sequentially, not unlike a pyramid. Miss a few pieces at the base and you can’t keep going up. How could switching approaches constantly not undermine a child’s ability to learn? It simply has to have a greater negative effect than any measurable difference between one educational philosophy and another.

When I was my son’s age, I went from attending second grade in school district that used what is now derisively called new math, and did not teach multiplication to 2nd graders, to a more old-fashioned one where multiplication facts had already been taught by rote. I showed up for the 3rd grade at a profound disadvantage. I knew all about sets and the difference between whole numbers and counting numbers and how to build magnificent castles from Cuisenaire rods, but I didn’t know that 3×6 = 18.  Despite being a good student, I could barely keep up.

Then for the 4th grade, we moved again, back to the new math school district. I was even more lost. Now all the other kids knew multiplying and dividing, but they’d learned it an entirely different way than I had. Suddenly I was expected to do long division when I barely knew how to multiply. I had a great teacher that year, but ended up having to attend tutoring for the whole year. Tutoring was something my school district provided for free and my parents could have afforded had it not. Imagine what this would do to a child in a lousy school district without tutors, with teachers who didn’t care, whose parents had no ability to facilitate their child’s learning. The consistency between texts and approaches mattered hugely and it wasn’t something the average child from the average family could have overcome.

That’s what happens when education is imposed on schools from the top down. It may not always be quite as profound a difference as my experience moving into a new school district and back would suggest, but it certainly doesn’t allow a child to benefit from the consistency and gradualism that is designed into textbook series. Since most are meant to build on themselves – many series go from K-12, with the end goal of fully preparing kids for college or careers – switching from one series to another repeatedly simply means that little to none of these intended effects occur. Students work towards a series of perceived goals that vanish, to be replaced by a new series of goals for which no groundwork exists.  And teachers have no freedom to make up the difference, no ability to hang onto the old ways for a year or two or even indefinitely to fill in any gaps.

This is one of the main complaints teachers have with Common Core reading in the upper grades. The expectation in Common Core is for students to be able to read highly complex non-fiction, which sounds great…but that wasn’t what kids were doing before. Most of those students came of age in a Whole Language environment where they read a lot of fiction – primarily fiction that they were particularly interested in, that they picked out themselves, since that is one of the main tenets of Whole Language education. Tossing older kids into the deep end of a shark pool full of very difficult non-fiction with no previous experience reading that kind of stuff does them little good. Even if the Common Core approach is vastly better in the long run, it could be harmful for those students who had been taught most of their lives using a different method. But because education is one-size-fits-all, imposed from the top down, subject to whatever revolutionary new teaching method that the powers that be decide is better, teachers don’t even have any flexibility to back off the new standards and keep doing what’s been working for their students in the past. They HAVE to make the switch even if they know that it’s not right for their students.

Just from a purely financial angle, it seems incredibly wasteful to throw perfectly good books away for something that may be only marginally better. My husband works at the county dump and although he’s only been employed there for about 6 months, already 2 school districts in our small rural county have brought in textbooks for disposal. They were practically new and probably cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to purchase – according to Scholastic, textbooks cost over $100 per book. But they were simply carted off to an incinerator to be burned, replaced with hundreds of thousands of dollars in new textbooks that will be burned probably within this next decade. The states spend an average of just over $10,000 per student, per year on education. Couldn’t at least some of that money have been better spent elsewhere?

This kind of spending and wastefulness makes no economic sense. Even if a revolutionary new teaching method really is better than the old way, $10K per student, per year, could go a loooong way towards making up any deficits. Teachers have always filled in the blanks with extras whenever textbooks and methodology have been lacking. One of the things that my mother was (in)famous for is that she refused to give up phonics even when all the other teachers had switched over to exclusively Whole Language. Good teachers know what works and they should have not only the freedom, but the financial resources to pursue things that work for their students. I mentioned the I Can Read books that were so helpful for Tate when he was learning to read; a 1st or 2nd grade teacher could buy a LOT of I Can Read books and use them in perpetuity (at least until they wear out) instead of tossing that money away buying basal readers that most kids hate and that will be replaced in 5-7 years’ time, if that.

Fixes for education generally center around the following triumvirate: more money, more teacher accountability, and this perpetual hunt for the one true revolutionary new teaching method that will somehow fix everything. I think all three of those fixes are nonsense. More money just encourages this hamster wheel mentality, switching from one program to the next in the search for a unicorn that doesn’t exist. There will never be ONE learning method that is right for all children. The idea defies common sense. What we need to do is back off of teachers and allow them to teach. If you want to hold them accountable, ok, but don’t hold them accountable when they’re held prisoner by a system that allows them no freedom whatsoever. Quit kneecapping teachers with proclamations handed down from on high, and then blaming them when they can’t be as effective as they would be otherwise. It’s not their fault, they’re teaching with a millstone around their necks.

It’s counterintuitive, I know. But stepping away from the “more money, more teacher accountability, let’s find an educational Holy Grail” approach is going to free up more time, energy, and money to allow talented teachers to help more kids. Children are programmed to learn, they want to learn, and it’s a teacher’s job to find out how to facilitate that. It shouldn’t be Betsy DeVos’ job or Arne Duncan’s job or some bureaucrat in an office at McGraw-Hill’s job to find the One True Way.

There is no way any of those people could have told me specifically how my son was going to learn to read. It took hours of give and take between him and me for that to happen. That is what teachers DO. By the time they’ve gone through this process with 30 kids, 60 kids, 120 kids they know more about teaching on an individual level than any author of any textbook ever. Teaching is not giving a practiced speech in front of a room of people while they all hang on your every word. It’s interacting with children one on one, observing them, finding out what they need and what they don’t, and helping them meet their needs in such a way that they learn to learn themselves.

If you want a creature that simply repeats lines from a government-approved textbook, get a parrot.

Staff Writer
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Kristin is huge geek, a libertarian, and a mother of 4 sons and a daughter. She lives in a wildlife refuge in rural Washington state and works with women around the world as a fertility counselor.

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38 thoughts on “The Reading Railroad

  1. I too find it very interesting that the author’s two children who had greater difficulty learning to read spent very little time as toddlers crawling and instead moved very quickly to walking.

    Having observed my friend’s 15-month-old toddler both crawl and walk about her house recently, I could almost see the wheels turning in his toddler brain as he absorbed information about the world comparing the two different modes of motivation and exercising different parts of his brain. Most pleasantly for mom and child, this little fellow seemed to enjoy what it felt like to gather this new information, portending a future in which he will love learning.

    So that experience coupled with the stories in the OP makes me think about the author’s two little toddler-jocks — they basically skipped over developing the skills that are needed to coordinate crawling because they went (almost) straight to walking; perhaps the brain coordination skills needed for crawling are neurologically associated with the skills that are needed to read?


    • It is a pretty common observation that young kids typically concentrate on either physical or verbal skills. At twelve months a kid typically will either be walking or talking, but probably not both. I take the two future jocks as being kids who strongly emphasized the physical skills. This doesn’t mean they won’t be perfectly fluent with spoken language, but the emphasis of the physical over the verbal might carry over to reading.


      • Bug and his best friend are like this. They are 3 months apart in age (Q is older). Bug is much more athletic, Q much more academic (for lack of a better word). Neither is severely deficient (Bug is bright, he can write and is beginning to read, but Q is leaps and bounds ahead). I’m not concerned for either, but it’s interesting to watch the two development tracks running side by side.


    • I definitely think there’s something to this.

      The 4th boy, the one who went from barely speaking to reading in a year – also the latest walker. By 3 months. Apparently he was just busy paying a lot of attention to what people were saying during that time because he did the Einstein thing, saying nothing and then suddenly speaking in complete sentences. He’s not clumsy, either. Once he started walking he has never had any trouble doing physical stuff and keeping up with the others.

      There is/was a theory that kids must crawl before they walk or it may cause problems with their development http://ilslearningcorner.com/why-babies-should-never-skip-the-crawling-phase/ but this seems to be more in kids that are prevented from learning how by overprotective parents – always in a carrier or baby seat. For a while it was trendy to try and encourage people with physical delays to crawl – even teens and adults – but that didn’t pan out in terms of effectiveness. https://www.babycenter.com/404_is-it-true-that-babies-who-skip-the-crawling-stage-may-have_10323704.bc


  2. If each student needs his own path (and, for a lot of them, they do), well, they’re by damn going to have to learn it themselves. You sure as hell aren’t going to teach two’s complement instead of addition, despite the fact that it’s the only way my good friend can do math. (Can you imagine teaching that in 2nd grade? Yeahhuh).

    You missed multiplication, and fell behind. A friend of mine missed algebra (4 times failing), and yet was using trig in physics class (with the most minimal understanding, yes…) — you very much can manage a lot of things without actually getting the theory quite right.

    I think, though, that you’re a little more pessimistic about all of this than needed. 99% literacy rate in America. (much higher than it was in the 70’s). We’re doing better.

    How do you teach someone to read an entire page of text at once, cross-referencing the whole thing to figure out which words are which? This doesn’t sound like phonics or whole language, and it sounds pretty freaking complex…


    • I completely agree with you, and I wish more educators would get on board with it. That’s really what I was going for – over time, a teacher would start to see so many kids come and go they’d really get the knack for spotting commonalities between students and helping to facilitate that self-discovery.

      Over the course of the last few months I’ve read about 2 different “Holy Grail” approaches and I just can’t believe they’re still looking for it.


  3. I briefly taught in the late 1980s, before discovering that I don’t have the aptitude, and was making both myself and the kids miserable. Your critiques of trendiness were as true then as they are today. “Madeline Hunter” was the name to conjure by back then. It became apparent that dropping her name in a job interview was absolutely necessary, but more to demonstrate that I had stayed awake in teacher school that because anyone at all thoughtful believed that this trend would actually be the One True Way. Rather, it was a matter of checking off that box and moving on to the next one.

    My older kid was reading before kindergarten. We did all the reading to her stuff, but I credit PBS Kids. The programming is excellent. I particularly commend Word World. Reading to her gave the general warm fuzziness response to books and the opportunity to practice, but it was PBS Kids that gave her the specific tool set. My impression when she entered kindergarten is that a class would typically have three or four kids who were already reading fluently. Fortunately, the philosophy was to put these kids together in the same reading group, not to drag them down. As for the actual instruction, it seems to have been a mixture of phonics and whole word. This strikes me as eminently sensible.

    Her younger sister didn’t take to reading as enthusiastically. For the longest time she would deny having the ability, though we would catch her reading signs. She would explain that she knows how to read some words, and the sign happened to have those words, but she didn’t know how to read in any general sense. She is in first grade now. She will still make the claim, but at this point it is more of a running joke. She is in fact above grade level. But she doesn’t read recreationally like her sister does.

    My one overriding principle is that the surest way to make kids hate reading is to insist they read the books you think they should read, rather than the books they want to read. I am often appalled at the drivel the kid wants to read. I make sure she has better books available and encourage her to try them, but I don’t force the issue.


    • Richard,
      I think that “good books” should be made available to kids. Many, many good books, and let them choose from those.

      Letting them read drivel without some intervention discourages critical thinking, I think. (Curious as to what you’d call drivel, too).


      • I intended this to be covered by

        I make sure she has better books available and encourage her to try them

        As for what constitutes drivel, think of assembly-line Scooby Doo books. Thankfully, she seems to have outgrown those.


        • My policy with drivel is that it’s allowed, but I better have been able to find it for 25 cents at a library book sale (Scooby Doo books, I’m looking at you). I figure yeah, it’s drivel, but at least it’s word practice. For now.

          We have reading time for good stuff during school hours, then I read to them out loud when I can, then on their own time, drivel is at their discretion.


          • My take is that the goal is for reading to be a skill set mastered such that it isn’t work. This is in the same way that a proficient typer doesn’t have to think about the location of the keys, or a proficient gamer manipulates the controls without conscious thought. Achieving proficiency in any of these requires a lot of practice, and the learner needs incentives to get past that early learning curve. Early on, what is being read is pretty much besides the point so far as learning goes, so let the kid read what counts as fun stuff. The pitfall to be avoided is settling for low-level proficiency. Hence the encouraging/wheedling/propelling the kid to more challenging material as well.


            • Richard,
              ha. Yeah, that’s not going to happen for a significant number of people. Yeah, it’s just not. Being able to read quickly and proficiently is one thing — but without effort? People who are dyslexic aren’t going to be able to do reading without effort. It’s like if we took out all the vowels, and made you read. It’s hard.

              More challenging stuff runs on two axes. One is vocabulary and the other is critical thinking.


            • One of the things my son really likes to read is the Bloom County cartoon books that we had hanging around lo these many decades. The words are too hard, but I found he was way more motivated to sit there trying to figure them out than if they’d been in a reading book. The pictures are entertaining and then all of a sudden he’s reading 4 syllable words.

              Downside – lots of questions about Tammy Faye Bakker.


    • I’ve found kids sometimes define themselves as being the opposite of their sibling. With my two oldest boys in particular, my first son would do the opposite of anything my husband and I really wanted him to do (except with the reading, being a huge bookworm) and then my second would do the opposite of anything his brother did. So while Son #2 did/does mostly the stuff my husband and I wanted him to do, the reading was his brother’s thing. It was kind of a funny dynamic with those two.


  4. In my life, we had a reluctant reader who was in or around 3rd grade and we introduced him to the Fangbone books and he *DEVOURED* them. He hated, hated, HATED reading… but we brought him Fangbone and he asked us if there was a sequel the next time we visited. WE RAN TO THE BOOKSTORE THAT NIGHT. A few months later, a 3rd book came out and we drove to his house with it as soon as we saw it.

    There isn’t a fourth, sadly… but there is a cartoon…

    But, anyway. That’s a book that came out of nowhere that really worked for us.


      • I know, just because they worked for us doesn’t mean they’ll work for you (indeed, that’s what your whole post is about!)… but we did what we could to find *ANYTHING* that was just fun to read for this guy. Forget the whole “educational and nutritious” crap. We went all over to find stuff. Comic books, Captain Underpants, Diary of a Wimpy Kid… we kinda did okay when we bought a Bizarro collection of Superman comics from the 60’s… (He really enjoyed the Bizarro sentence structures) but with all that said…

        Those worked for us.


        • Yep, I think that is somewhat key when a kid just really HATES it.

          One of our breakthrough moments was in a Spiderman comic book encyclopedia. He had never read on his own at all at that point, and just looked at the pictures when I didn’t have time to read to him. But there was a frame from a comic that said “Aunt May is dead.” I had skipped the death part. He came running to me and asked “Did that really happen?” It was the first time I think it dawned on him that reading could open up things that adults were deliberately keeping from him.


        • Comic books were definitely the breakthrough for my daughter – she pigeonholed my parents for much of a weekend with some new books we had gotten her (some of the Phoebe and her Unicorn books). They divided up the parts such that she got practice reading on every page, without getting too tired from reading every word, or frustrated that the story is moving along too slowly.

          Now whenever we go to the library, I’ll pick out a graphic novel that I figure I’ll actually enjoy divvying up the reading with her for bedtime stories, and she picks out a comic book or two that’s almost always fluff I’m happy to let her read but I’m not going to spend my time on it.


    • I can’t tell from the absurdly inadequate “Look Inside” preview: is this book text or graphic? I’m fine with the kids picking out graphic books for themselves, but I only initiate text.


      • Graphic novels (comic book style).

        This is one that you probably won’t be initiating.

        (When I read them, I thought they were cute but they weren’t any great shakes. It was the boy who read them who found some sort of spark in them that made us jump and find the sequels. Then again, I’m a grownup. Maybe if I were in 3rd Grade I’d see it. Can’t go back into the Garden of Eden, though.)


  5. My wife has your story, reporting that she learned to read at age 3. I have no such story. I recall maybe “reading” a few comic books before first grade, books with Huey, Dewey, and Louie in them (along with Scrooge McDuck). But I also remember sitting in class the first day of First Grade, wondering what that big flip chart with a picture of a boy on it said. It was “Fun With Dick And Jane”. I learned quickly, I don’t remember any transition period, or work to it. I remember learning phonics, and using on some harder words, and I progressed to reading well above level.

    With our kids, I did two things – I read to them every night, from books we let them choose at bookstores. This continued until they were six or seven, then they could read for themselves.

    The other thing was regular trips to bookstores and letting them pick something for themselves. I don’t know if this would work for everyone. The school wanted them to write down reading sessions, which I often ignored or resented. I didn’t want reading to become a job, I wanted it to stay a joy.

    They were successful, but it’s hard to say how much my strategy worked, versus their basic learning equipment, which is very strong. They are smart kids.

    I think it’s good that educators are striving to do better at their job. I remember my kids kindergarten teacher telling me that they worked a lot of skills like a “balance beam” because that improved their handwriting.


    • Yep, that’s what my husband recalls too. Couldn’t read a word when he showed up for 1st grade and was reading well by the end of the year. It was like a game. He didn’t feel any stress over it, it just happened. But of course there was a lot less emphasis on testing back then.

      I hate the constant tracking of reading time – like punching a clock.


  6. I’ve found in my professional life that a new management trend will come through every, I don’t know, 5 years or so. Some people will oppose it because they oppose everything; some people will embrace it because they want to be seen embracing the newest thing. A few people will become genuine converts. Most will implement as much of it as they’re required to.

    The good managers will take whatever is of value in the new system and add it to their tool chests.

    It sounds like the “latest thing” in teaching doesn’t allow for that last option because of excess downward pressure and textbook rotation. But churning out new theories is not necessarily a bad thing. The experienced teacher may be able to spot the poor reader and find the best approach quickly.

    I have to wonder if the textbook industry isn’t in its last years. Then again, someone’s going to have to write the software and approve the content for the students’ tablets, and that’ll have to be updated even more frequently than textbooks, I’d bet.


    • Yes, exactly, it’s this weird two pronged approach of micromanaging everything teachers do in the classroom, and then giving them absolutely no freedom to do it. Trends will happen and most of them have good and bad elements. Maybe they’re great. But they’re never the end all, be all, let’s throw everything else out the way that it seems to be approached in education.

      In one of the links in the article it talks about going to iPad texts. Personally I learned a lot just from leafing through my textbooks as a kid, and I find tablets are not as conducive to that, but I do think it’s the wave of the future.


  7. All of this focus on methodology and testing in education worries me more than a little. I’ve got my first born due in September. The stories some of my relatives and friends who have kids starting school tell me about heavy homework assignments in kindergarten and inscrutable approaches to problem solving make my stomach tie into knots.

    Maybe I’m just being conservative but it all sounds so different than the Catholic school I went to I’m my early years. Discipline was pretty harshly enforced (including occasionally with the rod) but I don’t recall pressure for particular results in tight timelines. I was able to read at the end of 1st grade which seemed in line with most of the other boys (girls on balance seemed to be a bit ahead). Some kids showed up already reading well and some stragglers took until the beginning of second grade but I don’t recall that being cause for alarm.

    My son isn’t even born yet and I already have visions of teachers trying to get blood from a stone in order to meet an arbitrary mandate. I know it’s kind of taboo to say in this country but I suspect that socio-economic factors will determine how most students perform, regardless of what magic wands we require teachers to wave.


    • Advice is a dangerous thing, but I’d say trust your instincts. We sent our kids (at great financial cost to me and muh wife!!) to a private Waldorf school for exactly those reasons (well and some others, too).


      • How can you privilege your child like that? Don’t you know how important the public schools are and how they and the poor kids will suffer if you don’t send your kids there?


      • The advice is very much appreciated. My wife and I are tentatively considering that depending on the financial outlook and what our student loan situation is when the time comes. Luckily we’ve still got plenty of time to think.


      • My cousin sends her daughter to Waldorf also. And while she is pretty hippy-dippy she isn’t a big fan of a lot of it, but to her the choice was that or the local religious school (which almost made the cut.) But they are better than the Napa public schools apparently.

        My son did fine in pub schools in Sacramento, but the schools he went to tend to cater to politicians kids and that might make a difference.


      • The places the author warns about sound a lot like what other parents have described to me. My cousin’s wife told me their son is coming home from 6 hours of kindergarten with several hours of math homework. No idea if this is an exaggeration but I just don’t see that as productive for most 5 year olds.


        • It’s not.

          This is kind of my bread and butter, as I’m both a parent of young kids (4 and 2) and have spent my career as an early childhood educator and will soon move into early childhood administration (with some side work in teacher training). There are some bad options out there and some good options out there and stuff in between and different things that make the bad places bad and the good places good and the in between places in between. More than anything, figure out what you value about the place your child will be spending his time when he’s not at home and look for places that emphasize that. I don’t know where you reside or what your likely options are, but if you want more specific advice, happy to discuss more detail behind the scenes. Just give me the go ahead to shoot you an email.


    • The nice thing about children is that they’re very forgiving critters.

      We all start off weighing our every choice so heavily but most kids come out just fine.

      Huge congrats on your upcoming new addition!


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