Partway through fifth grade, I changed schools for the fourth time. Since my family moved in October, my classmates had long settled into their seat assignments when I arrived. I took in the sight from the doorway of my new classroom.
Twenty-five life-sized paper skeletons dangled above the desks. The hovering hosts shifted as the air circulated. Internally, I took a step back.
My teacher asked a sweet girl with pecan-brown hair to help me find my way around campus. At recess, I watched other kids chant rhymes while hopping to the beat of double-dutch. I wanted to crack the rhythm-code of those two beaded ropes. If I can just jump in, I can keep going.
It was a complicated year—but not without its rewards. Eventually, the skeletons came down (they were part of a science unit and not meant to scare off newcomers). I figured out how to maneuver that jump rope entrance. And I was introduced to The Reading Challenge.
Our teacher invited us to read through a list of specific books. Whoever read through the entire booklist by the due date won a prize: admission to an exclusive pizza party—in the school library.
My tweenage mind perked up.
Eating in the library?
With the librarian’s consent?
Radical.
I adored checklists. At home, we didn’t have much money to spend on “extras,” so eating delivery-pizza would be a treat.
I was in.
As I checked out the novels one-by-one, and examined their covers, questions sprang up: Why is this book on the list? How could it possibly be interesting?
I doubt I would’ve ever read the books on my own. Either I wouldn’t have noticed them, their page count would’ve freaked me out (Redwall is around 350 pages), or my most ruthless criterion—hip cover art—would have prevented it.
I was a preteen. A pre-twelve, even. I gravitated toward my beloved collection of Ann M. Martin’s The Baby-Sitter’s Club series (Books 1–32 plus two “Super-Specials,” to be precise). I saved up my allowance so I could gulp down each new novel in a single afternoon.
The reading challenge led me by the hand, down the hall, to new rooms. When I approached an unappealing door and felt resistant, I thought of my goal, and turned the handle. What surprised me was that once inside a few minutes—I wanted to stay.
Although I don’t remember the full booklist now, two still stand out in my mind: the initially intimidating Redwall, by Brian Jacques, and Hatchet, by Gary Paulsen.*
I read them on my bed, under the squatty-but-wide window which framed a slice of our giant maple tree. There, between my wall-mounted hot pink phone and the ticking baseboard heater, I turned hundreds of pages. As the tales unfolded in my hands, I sat close to voices, settings, and experiences sharply different from my own.
Delighting in those discoveries over and over with each magnetic book, I developed a perseverance for reading: It’s worth it—how will the next one surprise me?
Later that year, wearing my indigo jean jacket with all the pins on it, I made my way through the school library door. Hedged in by waist-high bookshelves, I bit into my pizza prize, and I left with a willingness to give someone else’s story a chance.
*As much as I loved these books, I still recommend screening them to see if they’re appropriate for your individual reader.
Photo by Adrian8_8, Creative Commons via Flickr. Post by Bethany Rohde.
Check out 10 Great Ideas to Create Your Dream Reading Nook
Click to get FREE 5-Prompt Mini-Series
- Postcards from Burrow & Meadow · No. 4 Seeing - February 16, 2023
- Postcards from Burrow & Meadow · No. 3 Listening - February 10, 2022
- Postcards from Burrow & Meadow · No. 2 Staying - May 13, 2021
Donna Falcone says
Love this, Bethany! What an adventure you had, in school and also in books! I love the image of you sitting between your pink telephone and the radiator… and I really love this line most of all: Internally, I took a step back. It reminds me of the way children, all of us really, have two ways of being – one, public, the other not so much. Thank you for sharing your story, and, congratulations on getting to eat pizza in the library – radical!
Bethany Rohde says
Thank you for this, Donna. That phone was such fun. It had black buttons, and a switch you could slide to select “Tone” or “Pulse.”
I hear what you’re saying about those “two ways of being.” That’s one of my favorite things about writing, it opens up a space to meld the two.
L.L. Barkat says
I loved this, too! Maybe I should have used food bribes more as a teacher 😉
Curious to know: Do you currently use reading challenges for yourself? For your kids?
Bethany Rohde says
I’m delighted you like this, L.L.! Great question here. I’ve enjoyed taking on some reading adventures on a one-by-one basis (like through Tweetspeak and MakesYouMom bookclubs). I think I’d do another booklist challenge if it felt completely optional, fun, doable, and something as exciting as pizza in the library.
I’m grateful my kids love reading each day. I encourage them to do the summer reading programs through the library. (But with those you earn rewards by the number of pages/books you read—a little different than this, but still fabulous.)
I’ve told them about my experience, and asked if they would want to try it. They are intrigued! I’m tinkering with the idea of creating customized lists for each of them. I’d like to include some books outside their go-to genres, and hopefully ones that provide perspective and inspiration. Maybe we’d decorate the checklists together one afternoon while we sip cocoa or tea. 😉
Lisa Phillips says
Bethany, I love this story! It evokes memories of my own tweenage years. Books were a balm when I was frightened or challenged by the unknown.
Do you have a reading list to share with me? 🙂
Thank you.
Bethany Rohde says
Thank you for this, Lisa. What a beautiful perspective—books as a balm. There really are untold comforts in a good story.
It would be fun to exchange book recommendations. 🙂
Megan Willome says
Redwall! Oh, my gosh, *loved* those books. My son got me into them when he was in about third grade. My favorite is “Loamhedge,” which he gave me in paperback. There’s still something special about the original “Redwall,” though. Pretty great world-building.
Glad to know another female who’s a fan!
Bethany Rohde says
Thanks for this Megan, such fun to find out you’ve enjoyed Redwall too. 🙂 I’ve only read the first one, but it’d be fun to check out the continued adventures of Matthias & Co. 😉
It’s been decades since I read it, but you know one of the things I remember most vividly? The charming food descriptions. I was intrigued by how different and special Brian Jacques made each meal and snack sound. I wonder if there is a cookbook based around the series.
mark says
Wonderful story, Bethany! I didn’t want it to end. Loved the beautiful imagery and prose coming from: “sitting under the squatty-but-wide window which framed a slice of our giant maple tree”.
Bethany says
Thanks so much for this, Mark. It was a beautiful tree (still is). 🙂
Sandra Heska King says
Love the “hovering hosts” and the internal stepping back.
And this:
“The reading challenge led me by the hand, down the hall, to new rooms. When I approached an unappealing door and felt resistant, I thought of my goal, and turned the handle. What surprised me was that once inside a few minutes—I wanted to stay.”
That’s my favorite part. And the pizza. And the willingness to give someone else’s story a chance.
Bethany Rohde says
Sandra, thank you for letting me know what specifically resonated with you. I’m looking forward to reading your next piece. 😉
Michelle Ortega says
“If I can just jump in, I can keep going.” What wisdom you had at such an age!
And this phrase : led me by the hand, down the hall, to new rooms. Just like your pecan-brown haired ambassador must have.
Wonderful to read your words, I can hear your voice telling the story! Brava!
Bethany says
Michelle, you are so sweet. Thanks for reading my piece and taking the time to leave your reaction. 🙂
Rich Maxson says
“If I can just jump in, I can keep going” and so you did—we are the better for it. I loved your story of perseverance and reward.
“As the tales unfolded in my hands, I sat close to voices, settings, and experiences sharply different from my own.” What a tactile way to describe the feeling when we first discover how reading captivated us.
Your prose is visual, concise, but communicates just the right detail, like this:
“Later that year, wearing my indigo jean jacket with all the pins on it, I made my way through the school library door.”
It isn’t just the jean jacket with its pins, you put motion into it and gave it life with context.
Wonderful story!
Bethany Rohde says
Thank you for the specific feedback. I’m grateful I was introduced to this challenge in such a way that it didn’t seem like drudgery, but a challenge I was free to embark on or not. It made all the difference in lighting the way to those captivating reading discoveries, you mentioned. Thanks again for your thoughtful comment.
Callie says
I think this is fantastic, Bethany. We made a move in August, and I watch my oldest daughter who’s in fourth grade, wading through established friendships and seeing where she fits in. She and I read every night and while I can’t figure the right words to help navigate this tricky tweenage/teenage time, I find that there’s something solidifying about reading a story together.
There’s something great about a challenge, isn’t there? I used to do a “Spring Break Reading Challenge” in my classroom. Each kid decided where s/he’d like to go for Spring Break, figure out how many miles it was from where we were to where they were going, and that would be the amount of pages they’d need to read up to Spring Break. I put up a huge map in my classroom, everyone made a car or an airplane, and every day they’d move their locomotive closer to the goal. I made reading logs like passports, and did little journal prompts. It was really fun, and these were 7th graders! The wild things. 🙂
Bethany Rohde says
Thank you, Callie! I love what you shared about the solidifying practice of reading nightly with your daughter. Just the time sitting together has to be grounding, let alone what you take away together from the story itself. Beautiful.
And a “Spring Break Reading Challenge?” Maps, passports, locomotives, and books—what’s not to love? (Do kids every pick a local destination to shorten their page requirement?) 😉