Leaders are Readers

Leaders are Readers

Today was Leaders are Readers day at school.  When this was first announced I asked my daughter Punkin  if she would like me to read.  She was very excited, though I have been to school often for her it is always an event.  Not truly being a “leader” but in the broadest of definitions I contacted her teacher to see if I qualified.  She was more than happy to have me come in.  For the school this is a big event so I did my best to also make it an event.  

I received multiple numbers of handouts with the company that I worked for to help.  We even had some Teacher notes on each of the handouts to help her plan to use it in a lesson plan.  I received samples from multiple customers and I prepared what I thought would be an interesting speech to help explain how I use reading every day in my job.  All of this would culminate with my story of choice, The Little Engine that Could.

This book was one of my favorites growing up.  Something about that little blue engine pulling those cars up the mountain just appealed to me.  I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. That was truly the whole story to me back then.  Even today I get misty eyed just thinking about that little engine pulling those cars up the mountain all with the power of believe.

Both of my children struggle with reading.  Buddy may never be able to read a full sentence without visual clues.  With the pictures he does an excellent job of reading about 5 words.  It has taken a lot of effort in his 8 years to get him this far.  Punkin has had a bit of a struggle to.  As a parent I know trying to get buddy from one milestone to the next has been a constant challenge, I just assumed with Punkin it would just happen.  Well it doesn’t.

So she has been challenged at each corner and me I love to read always have.  It’s one of my great losses since I have had children is my lack of reading time.  Just isn’t enough time, Punkin has inherited my love of reading and she has the time, but her comprehension of reading is far better than her ability to read.  Because of this what she likes to read are multi-chapter stories and what she is able to read are simpler stories.

So she sits and she struggles and about every 5th or 6th word she has to ask for what this means or that means.  She doesn’t seem to mind so neither does Kate or myself.  We feed her the word or ask her to sound it out and the story continues. 

I don’t feel like much of a leader in reading, one child struggles because I thought it was all going to be Ok.  The other may not be able to look at anything other than picture books.  They both try though and they keep moving forward. 

For those that don’t know the story it starts with a train that is off the tracks and needs help getting over the hill.  Two other engines turn the boys and girls and a clown rather rudely and one proclaims itself too old to hall the little train over the mountain.  Finally a train that is used as a switching engine answers the call and hooks itself up to the little train and chugs it’s way up the hill.  All the way up the hill the train says, “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.” 

As you might expect, this is a children’s book and not a greek tragedy, the little blue engine finds it’s way up the hill and all the dolls and toys are very happy.  The little boys and girls on the other side of the hill get all the toys and food.  We the reader get a lesson.  You have to try and you have to believe and you just might accomplish.

That truly is the crux of this story.  Believe you can and you just might, have too much pride or believe you are too old and the little children on the other side of the mountain don’t get there dolls and toys.  Simple story and a simple lesson, one that still resonates with me even today, maybe even more so.

Later that same day I stroll into my son’s classroom.  I repeat the same speech except simpler, everything is simpler there.  I look out at my audience.  In Punkin’s class I had rapt attention to each topic.  As I walked around the classroom I had each students attention.

Buddy’s class however is a bit different.  As I enter I put an FM microphone around my head so one girl can hear me.  Most of the children barely pay attention.  Still another has to listen to something.  One can’t get her picture taken.  My son sit’s plopped on my lap just happy to have Dad there.  I love my son’s classroom.  They are the epitome of the story I read to them. 

Each day they walk in and go through the same motion with just a little progress being made, but each day they try.  I can’t help but get lost in the story as I read it to them.  Maybe one of them is paying attention, but when I end they all clap, they all cheer, they pat me on the back and some ask when I will be back to read to them.  I always say soon.

I look amongst my son’s class and think they aren’t the dolls and toys on the train, they aren’t the clown nor are they the boys and girls on the other side of the hill, each of them in their own way is that little blue engine, chugging the car up the track and each says every day.  “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”