With memory of how important books were to me when I was a Fifth and Sixth grader, this school year I started a monthly book club at school. My plan was to read some classics (both old and new) and introduce the students to books they might not otherwise find on their library travels. Inspiration came from an NPR list I’ve kept around for years. In September, I consulted my list, acquired the books and then announced the formation of an after school book club that would meet once a month.
A few regulars began to attend each month and we’ve worked our way through a lovely assortment of stories. A fellow teacher joined me in this odyssey and together we’ve been amused by the students and their responses to the books. They will read anything, with no sense that time to read is precious. I’m rather jealous of that sentiment and like to bask in the glow of their confidence that there is always time for another chapter. Despite my concerns, the boys are happy to read about the adventures of girls. They loved Laura Ingalls as much as I did when I was their age. We’ve more boys in the club than girls, a bit surprising considering all that I know about reading. It’s not unwelcome, of course, but rather a reminder of how different today’s adolescence is from my own.
No comments:
Post a Comment