Monkey See, Monkey Do
Happy Children’s Authors and Illustrators Week!
When I first met the man who was to become my husband, I was gob-smacked to learn that he wasn’t much of a reader – he read the newspaper – (yes, this was a long time ago when the news was printed on paper and rolled up into bundles that were lobbed by a paperboy, landing without exception, within the radius of the early morning sprinklers). But he didn’t read novels, biographies, short stories, memoires, not even magazines – nada. This was beyond my comprehension! Here I was, a literature major in college and reading was – no exaggeration - my life. But then, it always had been, since I was a youngster.
Photo Credit: J. Howeth
And as I got to know my husband better, I figured out why or at least identified a contributing factor to his non-reading personality. In my home, reading was a big deal – especially before bedtime - it was the “done” thing. Everyone in my family had books by their bedsides. In my husband’s family, bedtime was bedtime – his mother didn’t allow or more nicely put, encourage reading before bedtime. It was “lights out” - period. And it wasn’t encouraged at any other time during the day either. My husband couldn’t even recall any times during his youngest years when his parents read to him. I think this is the missing link – reading wasn’t modeled for him; it didn’t become a shared heritage or passion with a significant adult. Reading was a school activity – not something you did in your off-time. (Not when there was a ball to kick around!) I remember feeling very sad for him to have missed out on this ginormously huge part of growing up (envision very, very sad emoji here). I even tried to foster a love of reading in him by sharing my favorite books with him. But guess what – it was too late! He was in his mid-twenties, and my enthusiasm did not win him over. He was not intrigued with storytelling, its components, its value, or its art form. Unless it concerned current events, reading wasn’t fun, and reading for the sake of pleasure held no interest for him.
Photo Credit: J. Howeth
Back to the missing link: research supports my diagnosis. It’s a case of “Monkey see, monkey do.” Since reading for enjoyment wasn’t something my husband saw his parents doing, even infrequently, it’s no wonder he didn’t gravitate toward books either. “What a shame!” says the literature major. Maybe my husband could have acquired a love for reading if he had observed the adults in his world with books in their hands. If there had been bookshelves in the house. If his mom had snuggled up in bed with him and read a bedtime story before turning on the nightlight.
Research tells us that not only does reading 1) help children build a larger vocabulary leading to improved academic success, it 2) helps children develop the ability to think and understand, leading to the development of problem-solving skills, and 3) reading broadens their world and helps children develop empathy, first by learning to recognize it and second by learning how to exercise it. And these are just the rudimentary benefits.
Individuals who have not acquired competent reading skills by early adulthood are at risk for numerous life struggles. Statistics show that 50% of adults with the lowest literacy rates live in poverty; 20% of Americans read below a level needed to earn a living wage; and 70% of America’s prison inmates cannot read above a fourth-grade level. This is scary and heartbreaking stuff.
If you want to learn more about this subject, I highly recommend the following articles:
