10-26-2012 library

Living Libraries

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I finally got the kids their own “real” library cards this weekend.  Up until now they’ve had pretend cards they received years ago during a preschool story time, and all the books we borrowed actually went on my account.  That worked when they were toddlers and we only wanted print books, but times have changed.  Both for our family and for libraries!

In this digital age, there are many reasons to get individual cards for each family member… even the kiddos.  Sam has an iPod, so he can download both audio books and e-books from Listen Alaska now that he has his own library card.  He can also download three free songs a week through the library’s Freegal subscription – the songs go into our iTunes library and he gets to keep them forever.  (His choices last week were Gangnam Style, Drive By, and Call Me Maybe.  Oh, how I miss our Raffi days!)

We aren’t ready to let Maggie go quite so digital, but she still treats her new library card like gold.  She’s just started to read the ever-coveted “chapter books” which would cost a fortune to buy at the rate kids read them.  This weekend she stocked up on library copies of Ivy and Bean, Judy Moody, and a few cool non-fiction titles as well.  Their friend Lia was with us too, and was thrilled to snag the library’s last available copy of Where Mountain Meets the Moon.

The kids knew they could check out up to 50 books, but they each selected fewer than five before asking to go to the “reading area.”

We left the library with our borrowed treasures, and the car was hauntingly silent as we drove away.  A quick glance in the rear view mirror revealed three children safely strapped in their booster seats, their necks craned over the new titles.

I hated to disturb them, but needed to make a quick stop at the grocery store.  The kids begged to take their books inside.  How could I resist?  They are getting too big to ride in a shopping cart, but they just wanted to read so I let it slide.  Classic.

Yes, people stared.  But why?  A cart full of kids playing Angry Birds on an iPhone wouldn’t have turned heads.  It’s kind of sad, considering library budgets are being slashed at the same rate as children’s vocabularies these days.  Maybe we should all start bringing books to the grocery store!

Our kids have spent plenty of time playing Angry Birds in shopping carts and doctor’s offices, but the birds took a back seat on this day.  And the best part?  No one squawked a bit.

All Buggy Eyed

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I tell our children that reading is a gift.  A gift that cannot be stolen, and one they will have for life.  I firmly believe it, too.  History has a tragic track record of denying people the right to read in an attempt to prevent them from revolting against oppression.

Ironically, there are many amazing books that best illustrate this point. Take Nightjohn by Gary Paulsen – it is based on a true story about a fugitive slave who knew how to read, and valued the skill so much that he would sneak back to the plantation each night to scratch letters in the dirt with a desperate slave girl.  He vowed to teach her to read despite the great risk to both their lives and limbs (the punishment for slaves caught reading was the loss of an appendage).

Another great example is The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak.  It is about a girl growing up in Nazi Germany whose foster father sells his beloved cigarettes on the black market so he can buy books to teach her to read.  She goes on to steal books from public book burning bonfires and treasures each title more than her own life.  Break out the tissues for this one…

Sadly, there are modern-day examples too.  Just look at Afghanistan, where girls and women are still denied an education.  I will never be the same since reading A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini.  The story goes back several generations, but I have to wonder how different the tale could have been with a literate population?

In some societies, literacy is revered.  In others, it is feared.  Which would you choose?

Maybe these firm beliefs explain why I get so emotional as I watch my own children emerge as readers.  To know that they have this gift… this skill… this most essential part of their education… it is priceless.  I don’t care whether they learn at 4 or 5 or 6 or 7… as long as they learn.  Not only to read, but to love reading.  To appreciate the gift that it is.  To know that they relish the stories we read together as a family now, and to hope they will someday pass the same tales on to their own children.

Luckily, my children’s teachers value reading as well.  Sam’s 2nd grade teacher assigns 30 minutes of reading on a daily basis.  I’m grateful that he is free to pick any text imaginable for this homework.  Some days we conquer it out loud as a family, whether it be through Harry Potter, Superfudge, some funky fairy tale, or a classic myth.  Other days he devours a Sports Illustrated magazine.  Most days he doubles the minimum because he reads in bed every night before he falls asleep.  He crawls into his top bunk, clicks on the nightlight, and away he goes.  He’s done this since he was a toddler:


As for Maggie, she has been truly blessed with a master teacher for her kindergarten year.  All Anchorage School District kindergartners are required to study insects.  You know:  six legs, three body parts, several life stages.  Spring is in the air as Maggie’s classroom is full of wheat grass, ladybugs, and caterpillars that are at this very moment metamorphosing into butterflies.  (And yes, she knows what “metamorphosis” means.  I don’t think I knew until I read Ovid in college!)

How brilliant that kindergartners study metamorphosis so thoroughly, because at what other age does a human schoolchild go through such a remarkable change?  This year, I have watched my daughter metamorphose into a reader and a writer.  She has officially cracked the code.  And that is precisely what has me all buggy-eyed tonight.

As a culminating project for the insect unit, Maggie’s teacher told the kindergartners they were all entomologists who had discovered a new kind of bug.  They were required to create a 3D model of their discovery; the project was wide open, but it had to meet the basic criteria of an insect.

We helped Maggie dig through our refrigerator and recycle bin for the three body parts, and once she picked what she wanted I did help with the basic assembly.  (Sharp knives were required in a few instances.)  Otherwise, this project was her own: she was in charge of paint, colors, layout, materials, and details.  I envisioned 6 cute legs coming out the side, but she insisted the thing would stand.  I imagined big fluffy butterfly wings, but she wanted little designer card stock ones.  (Sometimes I think she makes it a point to refute my every suggestion…)

At any rate, here it is, without further ado:  her insect homework!

I introduce you to the "walebug"!

The head is a CoolWhip container, the thorax is a half gallon of orange juice, the abdomen/stinger is a paper towel roll, and the legs are nails.  Throw in some pipe cleaner antennae and custom designed card stock wings and it’s a way cool bug.  But her write up was what really got me choked up:

In case you wanted to learn more about the mysterious walebug...

The terrifying thorax face - watch out, predators!

Watching Maggie do her “guess and go writing” (as her teacher calls it) was magical.   She was perched on the kitchen floor, hunched so far over the paper that her unkempt hair hid the scrawling pencil, but I could still hear her methodically whispering out the sounds one by one as she moved her ideas to the page.

When she finally finished she cleared her throat and proudly marched her homework over to her Dad.  “Do you want me to read it to you?”  she asked.

He took a quick glance and replied, “You don’t have to.  I can read it myself.”

And then he did.

What a gift he gave her!  Her sense of pride will sustain me for at least a week.  What could I do, but sit on the other end of the couch and wipe my buggy-eyed tears?