When I was in fourth grade, I won a class reading contest as the student who read the greatest number of books in a given amount of time. The prize for this accomplishment was a shiny green rubber ball. That may not sound like much, but at the time that green ball was the motivation I needed to power through the Encyclopedia Brown series and How to Eat Fried Worms. As I accepted my reward in front of the class I was proud of my achievement. But at a young age, I was already setting a pattern of reading for completion, not for the love of reading itself. Even to this day, I read to finish a book, for the reward of finishing. Consider for example, the runner who runs to stay in shape, who really doesn’t like running, and his favorite part of the run is once it’s finished. That’s how I read. (If I were to run, that’s how I’d run as well.)
Chase, on the other hand, has developed a different relationship with reading. The world of words is one he is comfortable disappearing into for hours, perhaps even days. Ever since he unlocked the ability to read, books have been his source of knowledge, inspiration, and freedom. When Chase comes downstairs for breakfast, he’s got one book open and is toting two or three others for later. He can’t get into the car without enough reading material for wherever the trip is going and back. Every Sunday Jenni goes to the library and load up for the week, retuning with stacks of new titles. Children’s librarians see Jenni and Chase coming and panic like the owner of all-you-can eat buffet about to feed a football team. Reading is the last thing Chase does before falling asleep and the first thing Chase does when he wakes up.
Stories of Chase’s ability to the focus on reading are the stuff made of legend. Chase has entertained himself through dozes of innings of baseball with good books. Somehow, Chase even managed to sustain a “reading injury” at a baseball game. No foul balls were involved, somehow during pre-game he fell out of his seat while holding a book. Apparently, Chase was so engrossed in the plot, it disrupted the balance mechanisms of his inner ear?
Why is it that Chase is such a voracious and insatiable reader? For starters, he loves to learn and he loves to learn via the written word. His appetite to acquire knowledge seems unlimited. Like the humanized robot in Short Circuit, Chase constantly seeks additional information; as Johnny 5 would repeat throughout the film: “need…input.” And Chase takes input from a wide range of subjects: science, geography, history, Norse mythology. We could probably get this kid a book on foods that begin with the letter ‘g’ and he’ll be destined for a profitable run on Jeopardy!
But beyond the information gathering, there’s zen-like comfort to reading that recharges and energizes Chase. It allows him to enter a zone where he is 100% in control. Like a revitalizing swim in pool, it’s almost a sacred space where he can escape. And if you’ve ever tried to get Chase’s attention while he is reading, you know it’s like trying to get a nine year old out of the pool toward the end of a birthday party–nearly impossible. I admire Chase’s ability to enter this nearly meditative state with a book. When i pick up a book, I’m still very distracted by the world around me, while at the same time still reading for some by-product–to get to the end of the chapter, to finish the book, to get the shiny green ball.
Sometimes Jenni and I are frustrated that Chase is so oblivious to everything but his current book. It takes several reminders and a foghorn to get him to look up from Secondhand Heroes. Then the voice inside our heads respond, “So, you’re upset that your kid reads too much?” At recent party, I was explaining that Chase leaves books all over the place and our otherwise tidy living room is cluttered with his reading material all over the floor and couch. Some grandparents in the conversation sarcastically nodded at me are were like, “That’s a big problem you have there, Steve, books all over your living room.”
In school and at home, we incentivize children to presumably bring about behaviors and outcomes generally deemed favorable. We provide and external reward (shiny green ball) in the hopes that children develop an internal reward (a lifelong love of reading). Without any outside positive reinforcement, Chase has developed a love of reading and is fortunate to have cultivated this passion at such a young age. I asked Chase what he loves about reading and he said it’s fun reading about “imaginary adventures.” That’s a refreshing answer from a nine-year old. It seems that children now are growing up faster than ever; I”m glad my son takes such pleasure in imagination. The stories Chase reads may be imaginary, but the experience and enjoyment of reading them is quite real.
