A Long Distance Life

At my school, we have a points-based program to encourage kids to read on their own time. Or, that’s the intention anyway. Most of them blatantly ignore it or just earn points to beat their classmates. I try to be militant about it and I even have a competition between my classes to promote the program, but they don’t get it, really.

For two quarters in a row, one of my eighth grade girls has gotten zero points, which has affected her grade. And for months I’ve been begging her to earn some points but she’s been telling me that she hates reading, she never wants to pick up a book, etc. I’ve insisted that she just needs to find something she’s interested in, but she’s 13 and why should she believe me? 

Finally, she was complaining of boredom, so I pulled an old R.L. Stine book from my closet and gave it to her. I devoured his books as a preteen. They’re not tough reads, but they’re just the sort of thing you can get easily sucked into. And for me, once you’ve experienced being really, really into a book, your life is changed.

Today she came into my classroom during our extra help period with her nose firmly stuck halfway into the book I gave her yesterday. This was a girl who just last week was telling me she was incapable of reading anything. Today, I had to ask her to put it down in class and she whined at me. I understood her pain. And I honestly wanted to let her keep going, but there was work to be done. She asked me if I could get another one for her and since my collection is buried somewhere unknown, I am scouring eBay for a cheap lot of books. 

This is why I became a teacher. If I could reach one kid, if I could make one kid a lifetime reader… the work and stress involved with the rest of my job is worth it.