Mommy, how do you read?

Mommy, How Do You Read?

One long-ago day, when I was reading to my little girl, she looked at me and asked, “Mommy, how do you read?” I had no answer.

Reading came as natural as breathing to me. On the first day of first grade, my teacher put two words on the board and said, “This says the and this says cat.” From that moment on, I could read.  From listening to my classmates, I knew that reading didn’t come so easily for everyone. 

Many children struggle to learn to read. Research identifies several factors that put children at risk for reading failure: poverty, language barriers, parents’ reading skills and attitudes, word-processing difficulties, as well as biological and psychological learning deficits. Literacy is essential to success affecting health, safety, self-respect, cultural development, career advancement, and academic achievement. 

Studies show that children who are late to read fall behind as their schooling continues putting them at risk for frustration and failure. Early readers read more, learn more words, gather more information, and attempt more complex learning tasks. Reading is complicated. Key factors that influence reading development include phonemic awareness, decoding, automaticity, vocabulary acquisition, comprehension, extensive reading, and motivation. 

Phonemic awareness is the ability to identify the small units of sound (phonemes) which make up words and how these can be segmented (pulled apart), blended (put together), and manipulated (added, deleted, and substituted). Phonemic skills, generally the first children acquire, include rhyming, alliteration, and counting syllables. 

Decoding, or phonics, is the process of converting the printed word into its corresponding sounds or sounding out a word. Readers must connect symbol (the letter) to sound (phonemes). Many children sing the alphabet but can’t connect the letters with their corresponding sounds.

Automaticity is the ability to quickly and effortlessly recognize words leaving the reader’s mind free to gain meaning from text. Proficient readers don’t stop to decode every word. Automaticity affects the smoothness and expression necessary for comprehension. 

Proficient readers gain vocabulary at a greater pace giving them another advantage for understanding texts. Children who are read to and have a wide range of experiences build “word-banks” they can draw from when encountering new words and concepts in texts. 

Comprehension grows as readers master decoding, gain automaticity, bank vocabulary, and connect concept to print. Reading often and with varied texts and purposes builds vocabulary and comprehension skills.

Motivation is both the hardest and easiest skill of reading. Any new skill takes effort. Readers must have a purpose and a desire to read. Reading must be enlightening, instructional, exciting, and practical. Most importantly, reading must be fun.

Long ago, I had no answer as to “how” I read but I sure knew that I loved reading. The first step to starting children on the road to reading success is reading with a parent. My daughter reads to her children now. They’ve started their journey to reading success. Grab a book and start your children now.                                       (This is the first in a series about reading success.)

Clue Words

Clue Words

“Tony and Ann are playing in the gym. Their mother will pick them up in 30 minutes. They play basketball for 12 minutes. They play catch for 8 minutes. How much longer do they have in the gym?” Math word problems are tough. Words mixed with numbers often confuse young math students. Many give up. Tears can follow.

Overwhelmed students do not learn well, so teachers teach students strategies for decoding these problems. One strategy is to look for clue words to indicate which operation to use, such as: more, less, fewer, longer, altogether, sum, difference, etc.

“Tony scores 17 points. Ann scores 9. How many more points does Tony have? How many do they have altogether? How many more points does Ann need to score to beat Tony?” Clue words help students decide how to solve the problem. Having a strategy gives the students confidence to begin. 

Clue words in life are important too. Children are often overwhelmed by the stories which are their lives. We were a happy family but Dad is moving out. Our school is safe but we have to keep our classroom doors locked. She won’t be my friend anymore. Confused children look to their teachers and parents for help. 

Help is one of the clue words we can offer children. Mr. Rogers advised parents to teach their children to look for helpers in times of trouble. Children need to know that people care for them and will help them. Teachers and parents are on the front lines. Children must have confidence that help will come.

Trust is another clue word. Children need to know that they can trust and that they can be trusted. “Mom and Dad do what they say they will. I can count on the support of my teacher and friends.” Adults must be models of trust so that children will learn to be trustworthy. Adults must show trust in the children in their care.

Kindness is a big clue. Children who are treated kindly learn to be kind. Children who expect kindness learn to be polite, caring, and altruistic. “Golden rule” living makes life pleasant for all parties. Kindnesses offered echo back. 

There are many clue words that we teach our children: patience, joy, gentleness, dignity, responsibility, self-denial, generosity, compassion, empathy, self-discipline, sympathy, grace. Children find these clues in our actions and our words. Children get the confidence they need to solve life’s problems by learning to use these clues.

Tony and Ann are at the gym. Mom said she would pick them up at 5:30. At 5:25, they pack up. At 5:30, Mom greets them with a smile and thanks them for being on time. They chat about the day’s events on the way home. After dinner, the family cleans up together and Dad helps with their homework. They read together until bedtime. Kisses, hugs, prayers, and wishes for sweet dreams teach them another clue word — love. Tomorrow, and every day after, Tony and Ann will use the clue words they learn from their parents to live confident and fulfilled lives. 

The Outer Light

The Outer Light

We are an aging population. Many people live to a “ripe-old-age” in good health. Many continue to work in their chosen field or second or third careers. But some are not so lucky. Many suffer from failing health and limited prospects.

In Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End, Atul Gawande, asks what is it that aging people “need in order to feel that life is worthwhile.” Aging adults become more dependent on the help of others. Physiological and security needs are filled by caregivers. Belonging and esteem needs are harder to fill. The feelings of independence, competence, and self-respect which made living enjoyable can get lost when one is incapacitated by age or illness. 

Gawande writes: “We’ve been wrong about what our job is in medicine. We think our job is to ensure health and survival. But really it is larger than that. It is to enable well-being.”  Well-being means feeling needed, valued, and significant. Old age should be a time of fulfillment, not a time of waiting for the end. 

Many elders needing nursing care (at home or in care facilities) lack a sense of purpose. The sameness of days can lead to depression or despair. Activities may focus on keeping elders busy — not making them feel that they are still valuable and capable. How can we use the many talents of our elders to enrich their lives and ours?

Get to know them. Our elders are people with stories to tell, talents to share, and opinions to express. Ask them about their jobs, hobbies, and interests. Include them when planning outings and activities. Find out what makes them happy and help them get it. We live in community — everyone should have a role and a part to play. 

Share your projects and needs with them. A teacher friend of mine enlisted her father-in-law in cutting out shapes for her kindergarten students. Another friend started a knitting group at a nursing home whose members make hats for premature infants. Retired seniors can read to or with preschool or primary school students or tutor in after-school programs. If they can’t get out, they can record the books at home.

How many wonderful retired musicians might be found? One of my friends plays in a seniors’ band called “The Grateful Alive.” Another leads sing-alongs in retirement homes. Music enlivens and involves people everywhere. Our elder friends are repositories of much history. What experiences might they share? How can we record and honor these? The collected wisdom of age is waiting to be plumbed. 

One of my dearest friends is confined to a wheelchair and is restricted by a debilitating condition. She can’t do much with her hands or move freely, but she is fulfilled even in her restrictions. She has taken on the job of friend. She welcomes newcomers, visits the sick, and comforts the grieving. Residents and staff light up when she wheels their way.  

Everyone is valuable and necessary. Share your talents with the world. Ask the elders you know what they need to feel good and needed. Light up the world together. 

 

Our Best Neighbor

Our Best Neighbor 

When our daughter was young, there were very few people outside of the family we trusted with her care. But there was one person I felt comfortable leaving her with for an hour every day; a person I knew would treat her as the very special person she was, who would introduce her to the wonder of the world, who would teach her to care, cooperate and share. He was so kind and gentle that I often joined her for one of his visits. We sat right down in our family room, turned on the TV, and welcomed Mr. Rogers into our home.  He was a good neighbor.

On February 27, 2003, Mr. Rogers left us behind as he went to a new neighborhood. But the things he taught us remain. 

While a youngster, his grandfather McFeely told him, “Freddy, you know you made this day a really special day just by being yourself.  There’s only one person in the world like you, and I like you just the way you are.” Fred never forgot that lesson. He grew up and attended Rollins College in Florida, studying music. Returning to Pittsburgh intending to enter seminary, he took notice of a new phenomenon -- television.  He was appalled by what he saw, pies in the face and put-down humor, and right then and there felt a new calling -- from a ministry in the church to a ministry to children in television.  

The programs he created will continue. His neighborhood is a safe haven for all children. From the minute Mr. Rogers steps singing through his front door, hangs up his coat and puts on his sweater (sweaters made by his mother, one of which is hanging in the Smithsonian Institute), and changes into his sneakers, a world of magic -- a kind and gentle magic -- is opened to every viewer.    

Children learn to wonder about the world, to want to find out about how things are made. They learn that fish need feeding and adults care about the things that cause children to fear or ask questions.  Children ride the trolley into the Neighborhood of Make-Believe, where a cast of puppets, each with its own distinct personality, work through some of the same problems they have. Prince Tuesday worried that his mother, Sarah Saturday, and his father, King Friday XIII would divorce. Henrietta Pussycat and Anna Platypus think about friendship and school.

 

Music fills Mr. Rogers's world.  It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, What Do You Do?, There Are Many Ways to Say I Love You,  Sometimes People Are Good and It’s Such a Good Feeling are just some of the many songs Fred uses to teach children about the world.  In Make-Believe the neighbors often put on operas. Everyone gets to choose who or what part to play, even if it doesn’t fit exactly into the opera story.  X the Owl always wants to play Benjamin Franklin -- and he always does.  

Fred Rogers received many awards. Each time, he asked the audience to “take along with me ten seconds to think of the people who have helped you become who you are, those who have cared about you and wanted the best for you in life.” He wanted us not only to remember those people but also to become those people. 

Fred’s favorite saying hangs in his home office. It comes from The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exbury: “What is essential is invisible to the eye.” Two generations of children learned that lesson from Fred. Now it’s our turn to teach children the lessons he taught us: that we are all special, that it is more important to get along than to win, that it is all right to get mad or sad, that it is good to be filled with wonder, to be gentle, to sing, to be yourself

Mr. Rogers remained a special friend in our house even after the children were grown. Over the years, our daughter wrote to him sharing her concerns and asking for his advice. I wrote to him too, about the family and my students. He always answered, personally, inquiring after our family and offering encouragement to my students and me. Fred was our personal friend. I like to think that Fred was a personal friend to everyone.  

 

Our daughter never forgot the lessons Fred taught her. She is gentle, remembers to stop and wonder, loves to make music, looks for the best in people and knows that she, and every other person in the world, is special. With his encouragement, she joined the Peace Corps and served as a teacher in Africa. She taught her students what Fred taught her. She’s teaching her own children now. Every day, it’s a beautiful day in a new neighborhood because of Fred and those who loved him.

Attention-grabbers

Attention-grabbers

We’ve all been there — sitting in a meeting while a speaker drones on. The rumble of stomachs blocks brain function. Ears close, wrists flick up phones, and feet tap. Thoughts wander to the table, pull up a chair, and pick up a fork. Mouths water and noses twitch. The tick of the clock acts like Pavlov’s bell. Heaven help the speaker who goes over into the lunch hour. Out of the way! Lunch, here I come. 

Hunger grabs our attention. Many children come to school dragging attention-grabbers — hunger, fear, depression, trauma, insecurity, abuse, or neglect. Children who come to school hungry, fearful, or traumatized cannot focus on learning. How can math and reading penetrate little minds when stomachs growl or danger hovers?

Schools, expected to break through these barriers to learning, often lack adequate support. Taxpayers grumble when taxes are raised. Politicians decrease education funding. Administrators demand higher test scores. Teachers work harder. Children struggle to learn but attention-grabbers are hard to ignore.

Every adult who has felt hunger or been through a crisis knows how hard it is to take in information, make good decisions, or behave rationally when stressed. Yet we expect children to work past their needs. Many people oppose school meal programs. Many oppose food-security programs. Funding for school nurses and guidance counselors is cut. Teachers are expected to do more with less. Parents are expected to provide school supplies, and, when they cannot, children go without or teachers step in to supply them from their own resources.  

A society that wants productive citizens makes meeting the needs of children a top priority. Parents and schools need support so that they can support the needs of children. We have all heard that it takes a village to raise a child — it also takes adequate food, clothing, emotional and psychological support, and funding for schools, healthcare, and safe neighborhoods. 

When we are hungry it is hard to focus on the hunger of others. But when it is children who are hungry or frightened or depressed, we must care for them first. Find out how schools are using tax funds. Get involved. Find out what children need and help — by electing legislators who support schools, food programs, and neighborhood centers, by volunteering at schools and youth centers, and by supporting legislation for affordable health care. When children cannot learn because of attention-grabbers it is our job to clear the way. 

Many consider these solutions radical, but is it radical to want children to grow up strong, happy, and safe? John Adams wrote that  “The preservation of liberty depends upon the intellectual and moral character of the people.” Children, our nation’s future, will preserve our liberty and build moral character only when their needs are met. Let us focus our attention on fulfilling the needs of all children so that they can focus their attention on learning and growing.  

Your Brain's Psychiatry Booth

Your Brain’s Psychiatry Booth 

In the holiday classic "A Charlie Brown Christmas,” Charlie Brown seeks help at Lucy’s “Psychiatric Help 5¢” booth. Lucy asks him some questions: “Are you afraid of responsibility? If you are, then you have hypengyophobia. How about cats? If you're afraid of cats, you have ailurophasia.” Finally, Lucy asks: 

Lucy: Do you think you have pantophobia?

Charlie Brown: What's pantophobia?

Lucy: The fear of everything!

Charlie Brown: THAT’S IT!

Lucy: Five cents, please. 

We sympathize with poor Charlie Brown. Sometimes the world is just too frightening. Phobias can be debilitating but more insidious is bias. Bias is woven into our very being and often we are unaware of it.

Ben Yagoda, in his article “Your Lying Mind,” writes that Wikipedia lists 185 definitions for cognitive (related to thinking, reasoning or remembering) biases which Yagoda defines, as a “collection of faulty ways of thinking that is apparently hardwired into the human brain.” Bias is most often associated with racial, cultural, or political positions. Cognitive biases are less overt but can be just as damaging.

Cognitive biases are varied. Yagoda selects six most damaging biases: Confirmation bias, the tendency to favor people whose opinions match yours; Fundamental attribution error, the tendency to believe that people’s actions reflect who they are; the bias blind spot, believing that while others have biases, you are exempt; the anchoring effect, heavily relying on the first piece of information encountered; the representative heuristic, a shortcut used to make judgements based on personal examples; and projection bias, the belief that your tastes or preferences will remain the same over time.

In politics, these biases are evident. A politician favors news outlets that reflect her views (confirmation bias), labels people who disagree with her as corrupt (fundamental attribution error), favors information which supports her platform (anchoring effect), states that all other politicians are biased (bias blind spot), uses personal examples to support her position (the representative heuristic) and believes that current conditions are static and unchanging (projection bias). 

These biases affect our everyday lives. At school, we sit with friends who share our likes and prejudices, shun those who are different, and believe that our friends like the same things we do. At work, we judge co-workers by their looks,  gender, or academic degrees. We judge others based on first impressions not bothering to find out more. 

Each mind develops short-cuts for making judgments and predictions. Innate biases influence how we make decisions and view other people. Becoming aware of these hidden biases may change how we perceive and interact with the world. 

Before making a judgment, agreeing with an opinion, labeling another, or congratulating yourself, reflect on how your mind’s short-cuts affect what you believe. Do some research. Diagnose your own inner biases. Repair the errors of a biased brain. Save 5 cents. 

(Check out “Your Lying Brain: The Cognitive Biases Tricking Your Mind,” by Ben Yagoda in The Atlantic, Sept. 2018)

Ghosts of Halloween Past

Ghosts of Halloween Past

All children love Halloween. What could be better than dressing up and getting candy? When we were young, my brothers and I made our own costumes — usually from cast-off clothing from our parents. On Halloween night, we dressed in our costumes and grabbed pillowcases to gather our loot. We planned to fill those cases to overflowing. 

Everyone knew the best houses to hit — the ones that gave big Hershey bars, the ones that gave caramel apples, even the ones that gave quarters (which was a lot of money in those days). The mecca of our neighborhood was the house that gave out soft pretzels. These folks made their own and the supply was limited! Unfortunately, we never remembered just which house it was until it was too late. We had to settle for kettle corn.

Dragging our treat-laden pillowcases home, my brothers and I and removed our costumes, wiped off our make-up, and prepared for the climax of the night — trading our candy.

Each one of us used a sheet of newspaper to sort our haul. Piles of Hershey bars, Baby Ruths, pretzel sticks, Twizzlers and more grew before us.

As the oldest, with the most experience, I had the advantage in our trades. I regret to say that I was not the fairest of traders. I craved chocolate. Every year, I persuaded my brothers to part with their Hershey bars, M&Ms, and Three Musketeers. 

My brothers followed the “instant gratification” philosophy so they dived right in. I was more of a “delayed gratification” girl, so every year I put my ill-gotten chocolates into a paper bag, taped it shut, put the bag in a shoebox, taped that shut, covered the bag with brown paper, taped that shut and wrote, “This is Lisa’s candy. Do not eat!” all over it in black crayon. Then I hid the box way back in the freezer. For good measure, I locked the freezer door and put the key on top — too high for my brothers to reach.

A week later, with my mouth watering for chocolate, I’d reach into the freezer for my box. It was still taped shut but a little sloppily. The box felt a bit light. With steam pouring from my ears, I opened the box to find half — if not all — of my candy gone. Shouting my revenge, I looked for my brothers who were always suspiciously absent. My mother consoled me as I mourned the loss of my treats.

This happened every year. My threats never fazed them and I never caught them red-handed or chocolate-covered. The same charade played out at Easter and Christmas. I never learned.

Many Halloweens later, fate dealt me a blow. I became allergic to chocolate—justice for my avaricious ways. No more Hershey bars, M&Ms, or Three Musketeers for me. I miss the chocolate but I still have those brothers — a far better treat than any ever stuffed into a pillowcase. Delayed gratification of the best kind.