He’s reading

You know, it’s such a pleasure to see your child reading. That’s not a surprise, is it? From the moment they’re able to toddle over to you with a book, there’s something so incredibly warm and fuzzy about seeing your son or daughter take pleasure in the written word, especially if you’re a bookworm yourself.

Sam is not a bookworm, a fact that rips me inside. He likes books; don’t get me wrong. What he likes, though, isn’t the story or the drama. He likes the information he can glean from the pages. He likes the facts, the figures, the diagrams. He enjoys reading about the sinking of the Titanic, studying the cutaway illustrations to see where the flaws lay. He relishes studying the names of various trains and planes, knowing which ones are the fastest and which ones are the biggest. In short, he’s male.

When I worked at the library, I came to see that, yes, there is a difference between how boys and girls approach reading, as much as my feminist heart wanted to decry it. Exceptions acknowledged, for the most part, it was the girls who skipped into the stacks, hauling out troves of their favorites to take home with them. It was the boys who were dragged in by their moms, who were muttering things like, “I don’t care what book you pick, but pick one!”, and the boys who would sigh mightily and grab the nearest book to hand without even glancing inside it. (Funny how I so rarely saw a father filling the role of the dragging parent.) We librarians even kept a list of books handy that might entice boys’ interests. We lauded the creation of Guys Read.

And now I have my own little guy who would much rather draw or play than flip pages. I cringe, but I look at his father, who is one of the smartest men I’ve ever met…and who isn’t much of a recreational reader, either. He loves books deeply, but he primarily reads for purpose. That’s reasonable and good, and I respect that in him. How can I adjust my thinking to respect it in Sam?

He’s reading this morning, though. Last night spiraled into family chaos, and I wound up fleeing to the bookstore alone to select his book (after him telling me he wanted a “city” book). After much searching, I came home with a couple candidates, and he chose Number the Stars. He read some last night, and this morning he read a little more at my gentle request. No urging required! He says it’s “great,” though without much enthusiasm; I’m keeping my fingers crossed that he’ll find some excitement in it as he goes deeper. If not…maybe he’d prefer a history text over a fictionalized tale. Maybe a compilation of World War II tank diagrams is more his speed. (Hard to write a book report on that, unfortunately. Why must all report assignments presume a preference for fiction?)

They just keep on growing, keep on changing. I guess my best bet is to continue to surround him with as many choices and chances for learning as possible, not steering it in the direction of my own tastes, even unconsciously. Eric and he have recently been talking about electricity and circuits, following an assignment from school. I know nothing about that, and, honestly, I have no desire to even know about it. That doesn’t make it less worthy of his energy, of course! It’s all up to him to pick his paths, and I’ll be content…so long as he’s learning, learning, and never stopping the learning.