Skip to main content

Drop Everything And Read Day

I went to a middle school that was new and apparently modern in its approach to education, as was its principal. My mother never cared for his new ideas that allowed kids to touch the walls as they walked down the hallway or even skip if they wanted, but I always liked the guy. He had an assistant principal who cracked the whip, which left him free to be more high-minded.

The building had educational wings that spread out from the center, and in that center was a two-story, glass-walled library you could see from almost any spot throughout the day. I didn't think this thoroughly when I was 11, but now in retrospect, I believe that library with its transparent walls was a metaphor for education and the new principal's ideas—education should be approachable and attainable and not something kept out of reach of a kid standing on tip-toes. Just an idea.

Anyway, that library and the experiences I had there were the inspiration for this opinion piece in today's edition of Small Town Newspaper:

Drop Everything And Read Day

Today, educators and librarians around the country are encouraging families to read together on what has been designated National Drop Everything And Read Day. It’s a day meant to remind families of the importance of reading by turning off everything, things like televisions and computers and mp3 players, and sitting down with a book for at least 30 minutes.

This day was chosen because it’s the birthday of Beverly Cleary, famed American author born in 1916. Cleary said, “Children should learn that reading is pleasure, not just something that teachers make you do in school.” As a librarian, she heard so many children complain about the sorts of books available to them, saying they wanted books about children more realistic, more like them. So, she set out to write those books, giving generations of children characters like Ramona and Beatrice Quimby, Henry Huggins and a host of others.

Ralph S. Mouse is the Cleary character that stands out from my childhood. I remember exploring my school’s library shelves and finding the book “Runaway Ralph,” the second book in a trilogy written by Cleary. I took the book home and read it cover to cover, completely taken in by the adventurous spirit of a mouse with a motorcycle. For some reason, I never read the other two books in the series, but I bet I read “Runaway Ralph” three or four times that school year. The experience helped develop a life-long love of reading and led me to relish time spent among library and bookstore shelves to this day.

My mother set an example as a reader as well. When I was growing up, she followed a guide that helped her read the Bible in a year’s time, and she read edited novels from the Reader’s Digest Condensed Book club. I remember her settling in on the sofa after dinner each evening with her feet propped up on a footstool and the corner lamp turned on full tilt. She would thumb the corners of the pages as she read, and that fidgeting produced a steady scratching sound, something I came to think of as a kind of reading rhythm.

Later in the evenings, I took over that sofa for my own reading, although I was more inclined to sprawl out as I read my favorites—“A Tale of Two Cities,” “To Kill A Mockingbird” and just about anything written by John Steinbeck. Paperback or hardback, new or used, it didn’t matter. I loved the entire sensory experience—the weight of the book in my hands, the smell of the paper, the worn texture of the older books and the crisp ink of the newer ones.

I still have quite a few of those old books in my collection, and in their pages are hidden memories like bookmarks, old train tickets and receipts from a store in my town with a used-book section. Most of those books have dog-eared pages, weathered edges and spines not treated too gingerly. And the best ones are those that are lived in and show just how many times they’ve been opened and read and appreciated.

I know people for whom traditional books hold no such charm, and e-book readers are the new way to read. The new iPad displays pages side by side and even has a faux gutter and shading in the center to suggest the curving of paper, so what’s to miss? But I appreciate the tactile experience of reading traditional books, books that can be kept and shared and worn in; books that can be cherished, not just for their content, but for their form.

Of course, the point of Drop Everything And Read Day is to read for yourself and as an example to others regardless of whether your book is digital or traditional, whether what you’re holding is made of plastic and glass or you can thumb the actual pages, whether it’s odorless or smells of aged paper and leather. So, read today in the way that suits you because reading in any form really is a pleasure. I’ll be doing my reading camped out on the sofa with a traditional book in my hands, creating my own reading rhythm and soaking up the complete experience.

Comments

savannah said…
sooooo, i've been stewing here in the dark and just glancing at the blogroll and suddenly, there it is (or rather there YOU are) drop everything and read! you don't even know, can't even begin to realize how those words made me sit and smile, sugar! you're a pal and i'm grateful! xoxxox
Shan said…
Lovely piece Robyn! I don't get to my fiction books properly these days, so I'll take that as a hearty reminder of how I cut my teeth on Beverly Cleary!

I just ate those books up as a kid. And, like you, I have such fond memories of going to the library and still can't believe it is there just for me to drink in free of charge. If only there were more time in a day. And less computers in that time.

I will indeed drop everything and read for a spell today!
dive said…
Everything?
MmeBenaut said…
I'm back into reading every night in bed before I sleep. I love that. I read and read as a child and young adult, all the fiction that I could. That gave way to heavy study books for law and architecture, economics and history. My shelves are packed with well loved books too although the Steinbecks were long ago passed on to other readers. I love nothing better than sharing a good book with a friend and mother and I still swap books.
I'm reading Stieg Larsen's trilogy at the moment. Gripping stuff. I haven't embraced ebooks or audiobooks and I don't have an ipad or mp3 player so I'm still with you, enjoying the weight of the book and the sensory experience. I bought a "book seat" recently, a tiny bean bag with a perspex shelf which allegedly allows one to read hands free. My hands sometimes ache with arthritis and holding a book open can be a challenge. Unfortunately though I've found the book seat to be next to useless!

Popular posts from this blog

Am I Stupid, or What?

In two weeks, I will climb up into a charter bus, take my assigned seat, and ride 22 hours straight to Orlando, Florida. I will be a chaperon with the high school marching band, which will perform at Disney's Magic Kingdom--me and 180 people on four big buses for seven days. We will travel together, eat together, play together, fall down exhausted together--and after 22 hours, I suspect stink to high heaven together. Because of the crazy schedule, we will leave Ohio at 6 pm, travel all night and most of the next day, and spend several hours at MGM Studios before ending up at the hotel sometime after 7 pm. After I check in with the eight girls I am to supervise, I intend to shower and shower and shower. I intend to wear clean clothes and socks and brush my teeth until my toothbrush wears out. Of all the things I could be concerned about on this trip, being dirty seems to weigh heaviest on my mind. One of my eight charges could run off and do bad things with her boyfriend, but I'...

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

An Offending Pile

So, I'm standing in my living room letting my mind wander for a minute or two as I stare out the window and watch the day go by, and I see my neighbors walking their dogs down the street. They are nice neighbors who are always friendly and responsible with their property. That is to say they aren't like the other neighbors who heap rubbish behind their house like Ma and Pa Kettle and let their dogs bark for thirty minutes at a time . Anyway, I see the nice people walking their dogs, a big golden retriever who is as sweet as can be and as dumb as a post—he once ate a sock and nearly died before it was surgically removed—and a new golden retriever puppy. Then I see Neighbor Wife suddenly run down the street with the big dog. Then I see Neighbor Husband stopped in front of my house with the puppy on its leash. And then I see the puppy taking a huge dump in my grass. Let me tell you, that is not done in this town unless the dog owner has a plastic bag handy and is ready to pick up ...