The Power of Reading

 

The Power of Reading 

During my teaching career, I taught hundreds of students to read. Some dove in easily. Some waded in slowly, learning alphabet sounds, adding a few words, taking the plunge into easy-readers, finally arriving at the shore of chapter books — the holy grail of elementary school students. 

While teaching my students the mechanics of reading, I also taught them the joys and purposes of reading. We shared many adventures, real and imaginary, with picture books. We traveled the world with maps and stories of faraway places. We painted pictures in our minds through poetry. We journeyed back in time (and into the future) with historical texts and speculative fiction. We put on our imaginary white coats to become scientists, our hiking boots to climb mountains, our space suits to land on Mars, and our scuba gear to explore the bottom of the sea.

Joy and information are important reasons for reading but there was one more reason to read that I wanted to impress upon my students — the power to find out for yourself. 

In the distant past, few people could read. Information came from others whose agendas might benefit by keeping people in ignorance. People who don’t know their rights cannot ask for them. At one time in the United States, it was a crime to teach enslaved people to read. Enslavers had truths they would rather keep hidden. They engaged preachers who read passages from the Bible that seemed to condone slavery. Denying people the right to find out for themselves kept them enslaved.  

Booker T. Washington was born in 1856 when slaves were denied the right to read. Freed from bondage by the Emancipation Proclamation when he was nine years old, Booker wanted to read. In her picture book, More Than Anything Else,” Marie Bradby tells the story of Booker’s striving to learn to read while working from dawn to dark shoveling salt into barrels. Seeking out traveling teachers and books, Booker taught himself to read. He put his skills to good use, working his way through school and earning college degrees. He then founded schools to teach others to read and much more. 

When freed from the bondage of having to find out from others, new readers made great strides. Washington wrote: “The Negro worshipped books. We wanted books, more books. The larger the books were the better we like[d] them. We thought the mere possession and the mere handling and the mere worship of books was going, in some inexplicable way, to make great and strong and useful men of our race.” 

Being able to read gives people the right to find out for themselves. The agendas of others can no longer color what you learn. Reading frees you from pundits’ opinions, the narrowing of knowledge propaganda promotes, the spin of politicians, and entrapment by conspiracy theorists. Readers can check sources, research further, weigh information, and judge for themselves.

The ability to find out for yourself should not be wasted. If you can read, you can find out more. Reading makes people “great and strong and useful.” More than anything else, knowing how to read gives you power. Use your power well. 

Principles for Leading

 

Principles for Leading

During my teaching career, I had the privilege of mentoring student teachers leading them from learning about teaching to actually teaching children. After a classroom tour and explaining the curriculum and the needs of the students, we’d focus on the nitty-gritty of teaching. 

Teachers are leaders. Teaching is a big responsibility. 

I offered three guiding principles. 

1. Be worthy of respect. Model good values. Act with dignity. 

2. Plan all the way through. Be prepared for the unexpected. 

3. Maintain control. Plan for it. Never start something you can’t stop.

Teachers lead their students. No matter how exciting your lessons are, no matter how much your students love you (and they will) if a teacher forgets these three rules, the lesson of what it means to be a good student, a good citizen, and a good person will be lost. 

These rules came back to me during this election season. Leaders, like teachers, hold great responsibility. Are they worthy of respect? Do they model good values? Do they act with dignity? Leaders teach lessons. Do they plan them all the way through? Are they prepared for the unexpected? Leaders have control. Words spur people to action. Can they stop what they start? 

Responsible leaders earn the respect of their followers. Act with dignity. Think all the way through. Maintain control — of yourself and your followers. Teachers who fail in these three rules should not teach. Leaders who fail in these three rules should not lead.

Student teachers receive a grade that determines their teaching future. Our leaders must also be graded. Are they worthy of respect? Do they act responsibly? The grades we give them determine our future. 

Leading is a big responsibility. Following is a big responsibility. Think all the way through. Hold to your principles. Act with dignity. 

Little Pitchers

 

A reprint of an article from 1998 in memory of my dear Aunt Nina who joined our family in heaven this week.

Little Pitchers

October 1998

Scrambling to prepare a treat for my class, I asked my student-teacher to take the students to the lavatory while I continued to fill little paper cups with frosted cereal. As they exited, I lined up fifty cups and began to pour cereal. Rushing to finish before the children returned, I bumped one cup causing several others to spill over domino-style. 

“Oh, sugar,” I grumped aloud and then laughed at my apt curse at the little frosted Os. Just then, I heard a chair shuffle and looked up to so one student sitting in his seat.

Startled, I asked, “Whey didn’t you go to the bathroom with the class?” Well, it turned out that the student-teacher had sent him back early for some hall misbehavior. I went back to filling my cups giving silent thanks for having a clean mouth.

An old saying goes, “Little pitchers have big ears.” While I don’t know the origin of this saying, I do understand its meaning. Children learn by seeing and hearing what the adults around them do and say. A tragedy had been averted because my student did not hear an unsavory word come out of my mouth. No expletives to explain. Just an innocent child hearing a silly teacher wonder at her clumsiness.

A tragedy you say? How could a casual curse hurt a child? After all, “They hear worse every day on the bus.” Maybe they do, but they won’t hear it from me. Impolite speech hurts others. I am in the business of teaching children to help and encourage one another. I try to model these virtues at all times. It’s hard, but it helps.

Years ago, I began a “pick up what you didn’t drop” policy in my class. Having heard, “I didn’t drop it,” enough after asking students to pick up a piece of paper or a pencil, I modeled bending over and picking them up myself, subtly pointing out to students that I was picking up what I had not dropped. It worked. My students now happily pick up dropped items and return them. 

My aunt Nina taught high school students who had been removed from other classes for behavior issues. Aunt Nina (all 4’11 of her) commanded respect from those tough guys. I asked her how she did it. She explained that she always and everywhere remembered that she was the example of an upstanding citizen for her students to emulate. She acted the part of a no-nonsense, to-be-respected teacher everywhere she went too.

“It’s just as important to be respectable outside of school as inside,” she taught them. “Respect yourself and others will respect you.”

A parent’s life is a child’s guidebook. Our children watch us. They see what we do and hear what we say in all circumstances. They hear us curse out the inconsiderate driver. They see us drop trash on the sidewalk. They listen when we disparage our neighbors. And they learn, oh, how they learn. Just ride that bus.

No one is perfect. When we stumble in our roles as models, we can stop and tell our children that we are sorry. I have had to apologize many times for exercising my “jumping to conclusions,” muscles in class. But a sincere apology coming from someone you expect to do the right thing outweighs a compulsory, “Hey, I’m sorry,” from someone you’ve seen tripping over the same obstacles time and again.

Remember those little pitchers. Big eyes and ears are everywhere. 

Reviewed in 2022 in memory of Aunt Nina who was a model for us all. 

Respectable and respected her whole life.

Bad Words

 Bad Words 

Every school year, I read Because of Winn Dixie by Kate DiCamillo to my second-grade class. Before I started, I warned the class that the book contained a “bad” word. I had their absolute attention from then on. 

The story centers on ten-year-old Opal who’s new in town and her stray dog Winn Dixie who helps her make friends. One of her new friends is the town librarian Miss Franny Block whose grandfather, Littmus T. Block, fought in the Civil War when he was fourteen-years-old. 

Miss Franny tells Opal: “Littmus told his mama that he could not stand by and let the South get beat…Men and boys always want to fight. They are always looking for a reason to go to war. It is the saddest thing. They have this abiding notion that war is fun. And no history lesson will convince them differently.”

Here I would pause dramatically and again warn the students that a bad word was coming. They almost stopped breathing. 

Miss Franny continues, “[Littmus] went off to be a hero. But he soon found out the truth.” 

“What truth?” Opal asks.

“Why, that war is hell," Miss Franny said with her eyes still closed. "Pure hell’”

Here my students gasped. I stopped reading and said, “Yes, war is a very bad word.” 

It seems that no number of history lessons has yet convinced the world that war is bad. National leaders threaten it. Troops die in it. Civilians run from it. Children get caught in the middle of it.  As Miss Franny notes, “It is the saddest thing.”

War is a very bad word. There are many other bad words: abuse, neglect, racism, hunger, hatred, fear, loneliness, and poverty. Every one of these words hurts children. What “abiding notions” do we hold more sacred than our children? What lessons must we learn to erase these words from our children’s future?

What measures can we take to ensure that all children are protected from “bad” words? Do we study history? Are we aware of current events? Do we oppose actions which hurt children? Do we support policies which protect them? Do we want to find out the truth? 

Along with Miss Franny, Opal and Winn Dixie befriend many of the outsiders in their little town: Gloria Dump, the town “witch” who is haunted by the ghosts of her past, Otis, a shy musician with a criminal record, the Dewberry boys who try to bully Opal and “pinch-faced” Amanda who is mourning her baby brother who drowned. Because Winn Dixie, with a dog’s true nature, does not discriminate, neither does Opal. She looks for the best in people and finds it. Because of Winn Dixie and Opal, many bad words are eliminated in their community. 

Bad words are still with us. Will we be the heroes that eliminate them from our world? 

(All quotes from Because of Winn Dixie by Kate DiCamillo. The book is on the list of challenged or banned books for some school districts. I encourage you to read it.)

Accompany Me

 

Accompany Me

A pianist friend of mine once told me, “There are two kinds of piano players, soloists and accompanists. Soloists get a lot of attention but accompanists are just as important.” My friend was referring to music but her statement covers much more.

 

Soloists command center stage. They excel in sports, music, art, making money, or making news. We applaud soloists. We reward star players and straight-A students. Professional athletes and actors earn high salaries. Wealthy celebrities make news. 

Accompanists work in the background. Band members support the lead player. The defense protects the quarterback. Cast members support the star actor, as do the stage crew and the production team. The billionaire depends on managers, workers, bankers, laborers, and many more to maintain status. The anchorperson relates news gathered by scores of reporters, editors, and technical support people. 

Accompanists are a vital part of any achievement. The architect designs the building; the bricklayer builds it. The author writes the best seller; the editor, printer, and binder make it a book. The surgeon performs the operation; the nurses, anesthesiologists, technicians, lab assistants, cleaners, and every person at the hospital keeps the patient alive. 

George Burton Adams, a medieval historian who taught at Yale from 1888 to 1925 wrote, “There is no such thing as a 'self-made' man. We are made up of thousands of others. Everyone who has ever done a kind deed for us, or spoken one word of encouragement to us, has entered into the make-up of our character and of our thoughts, as well as our success.”

       All of history stands on the shoulders of many accompanists. For every name we remember nameless thousands stood in support.

Not many of us are soloists but all of us can be accompanists. Accompanists work behind the scenes. They are the parents and grandparents who advocate for good schools, cheer on the athletes, buy the paints for the artists, and drive budding actors to rehearsals. They are the coaches and teachers who encourage children to persevere, practice, and treat others with fairness. They are the friends who show up, stand by, and pick us up when we fall down so we can start again. No soloist is made without support: friends, family, teachers, coaches, advisors, authors, pastors, mentors, and many more. Behind every soloist is an army of accompanists.

Parents and teachers accompany one another in the education of children. Adult children accompany elderly parents through aging and retirement. Friends accompany friends through illness, failure, and discouragement as well as success, prosperity and health. Citizens accompany the government when they keep the laws. Politicians accompany citizens when they put the welfare of the nation ahead of personal gain. Nations accompany one another when the work together for peace.

Children become accompanists when they see adults supporting and encouraging others. We spend a lot of time and energy nurturing soloists; equal effort must be made nurturing accompanists. Accompany your children as they grow. Encourage them to accompany others. 

Accompanists are important.

     LMC 2019

Day 25: Stay Out of Bethlehem

 

Stay Out of Bethlehem

An Advent Calendar Story

Day 25

Silent night, Holy night.

Son of God, love's pure light

Radiant beams from Thy holy face,

With the dawn of redeeming grace,

Jesus Lord at thy birth;

Jesus Lord at thy birth.

Celia looked up from her story. Candles flickered in the sanctuary lighting the faces of the worshippers looking up at her in the pulpit. “When I was asked to write a story for tonight, I told myself to stay out of Bethlehem. That sacred story had been told and I could write nothing more. I struggled to come up with something new and original. I prayed for inspiration. My prayers went unanswered. As long as I was determined to stay out of Bethlehem, no story came.”

Celia pointed to the star now hanging over the manger, the star that Joe had crafted in his workshop which hung over the stable he had built and filled with carved figures of Joseph, Mary, shepherds, sheep, and kings. 

“The star that brightened the skies over the shepherds; the star that guided the wise men, the star that hung over the stable where a mother watched in awe and a father stood guard, announced the Savior who redeemed the world. On that star-bright night, no one could stay out of Bethlehem. Neither should we. We cannot stay out of Bethlehem when a Savior awaits us there. Kneel with the shepherds. Join the angels’ song. Feel his peace. Take the star-bright light of the Savior with you into the world. Share the story of our Savior. Carry him in your heart. Shine his light into the world.”

As the organ lifted the congregation to their feet for the final carol, tears pricked Celia’s eyes. She looked down at Merry and Hurry holding their lit candles high. She smiled at Joe’s handiwork gracing the altar. A tiny elephant, carved into the back of the stable, smiled back at her. 

Celia had tried to stay out of Bethlehem but had failed. Star-bright, it shone in her heart. Lifting her candle, she joined in singing, “Wondrous Star, lend thy light; With the angels let us sing, Alleluia to our King; Christ the Savior is born. Christ the Savior is born!”

Advent Challenge: Rejoice! Christ the Savior is born!

Prayer: Wondrous star, lend thy light. With the angels let us sing, Alleluia to our King. Christ the Savior is here, Jesus the Savior is here. Lord, we shine with the star; we sing with the angels; we worship with the shepherds; we bring gifts like the Wise Men; we give you our hearts. Amen

Lisa Marie Crane

10/20/20

Day 24 Stay Out of Bethlehem

 

Stay Out of Bethlehem

An Advent Calendar Story

Day 24

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see the lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by;

Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee to-night.

The light of the star lit up the hillside. Could I forget my father’s warnings, leave the sheep and follow into Bethlehem? I looked about for an answer. Amos’s dog! I whistled for him. “Guard the sheep,” Picking up the orphaned lamb and resting her on my shoulders, I tumbled down the hillside. 

I didn’t stop by my kneeling friends. I didn’t stop to wonder at the great star resting above the stable. I didn’t stop to call a greeting or announce my name. I rushed in, thinking to find a crowned prince. I had forgotten the angels description of baby wrapped in swaddling and lying in a manger. Surely a Savior would be robed in gold? 

No gold littered the floor. No royal robes clothed the baby. I found a mother and father who looked tired after a long journey. No crowns or scepters. I looked for the baby. He slept in the manger wrapped in common cloths. No one spoke yet I felt a sacredness there. 

I moved closer. The baby’s father moved to protect his family. The mother lifted her eyes to mine, then turned to her husband, “Let him come.” 

I knelt next to the infant. He reminded me of my brother Samuel. He sighed in his sleep. That sigh filled my heart. Awe filled my soul. I looked from the baby to his mother and saw my awe reflected there. I saw that same awe in his father’s face. Turning, I saw it in the shepherds who kneeled outside. The star-bright night reflected the glory of this child named a Savior by a choir of celestial angels. 

A murmuring from the shepherds outside woke me from my reverie, “We must tell the world,” Amos cried. He strode off to wake the town. Others followed. Hesitating, I took the lamb from my shoulders and laid it in a sheltered corner behind the manger, my offering to the infant savior. 

Remembering the flock, I rose and turned toward the hill. Before setting off, I looked once more at the scene in the stable. A father stood guard. A mother gazed lovingly into her baby’s face. The baby rested securely in his mother’s arms. A star shone brightly above. Peace filled my heart.

If I never set foot in Bethlehem again, I will remember this night. My father’s warning echoed in my memory, “Stay out of Bethlehem.” As I walked back to my sheep, I wondered, “How could anyone stay out of Bethlehem when a savior awaits us there?” 

Advent Challenge: Don’t make the Savior wait. Meet him now. 

Prayer: O holy Child of Bethlehem! Descend to us, we pray; cast out our sin and enter in, be born in us to-day. We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell; O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Emmanuel! O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Emanuel! Amen