I was sitting in the faculty room of one our buildings listening to colleagues discuss their summer reading.  One after another mentioned a “beach book” and spoke with guilty pleasure of having read something totally trivial, a mystery or romance novel, that was “fun,” “superficial,” and thoroughly “entertaining.”  It was as if they were describing some kind of an illicit act, something they would not ordinarily do, and admitting to their friends in the sanctity of the faculty room that what took place in Vegas, stayed in Vegas.
      When I gently probed and asked what they were reading now that the school year was underway most recited a list of titles that were instructional in nature, rich in pedagogy and clearly relevant to the classroom.  But when I asked if they did any reading for pleasure now that school had begun, few said yes.  Most spoke of not having the time; our hurried lives made reading for pleasure “impossible,” and everyone agreed that the accessibility of television and the Internet provided snippets of downtime that replaced the notion of just relaxing with a book.
      As an educator I can relate.  The pressures we all labor under are daunting.  With NCLB, the need for differentiation, changes in the family structure, and a hundred other complicating factors, it is getting harder and harder for kids to stay focused and for us to do our jobs.  There never seems to be enough time in the day so how can we expect anyone to just stop and do a little beach reading?  Surely not the children, because we are cramming more and more curricula into their days than we have time to teach it.   And surely not in ours because we are mandated to ensure that we cover every topic and meet standards upon which the very survival of our schools and districts depend.  It’s a race to the top, they say, and we’re all guilty of getting swept up in the mission.  Let’s face it, our jobs depend on it.
      But when it comes to teaching reading, aren’t we supposed to do more than instruct?  Aren’t we also supposed to inspire?  What better way to model the value of reading by demonstrating to our students that it’s okay to read for pleasure at least some of the time as opposed to some other more didactic purpose.  Years ago we had DEAR programs in our schools, when everyone, from the custodians to the principals, would drop everything and read.  If I may be so bold I would like to recommend that we resuscitate DEAR even if it’s only for a handful of minutes at first, or maybe we do it once a week, whatever works in our crazy schedules.  I guarantee that that time will be just as meaningful for you and your students as an hour of teaching how to infer meaning or what to do when we identify VCV structures in our words.
      Go ahead and take your students to the beach for a little while.  They’ll love it and you won’t even have to pay for a bus.
     
(Please visit my website sroystevenson.com to read the first chapter of The Magic Act and view teachers’ and students’ comments.)