Breakthrough Thursday

Little steps. Big victories.

Sometimes the steps feel so tiny I wonder if we're even moving forward. I wonder if I am challenging them enough. But I follow my gut, teaching becoming a strange mix between ESP and science, and eventually all these miniature steps pool together and produce an unbelievably satisfying reward.

One of my boys came to class as a self-professed bad reader. That's a pretty hefty title to have to lug around with you from 4th grade into adulthood, I thought, and so began my search for his Holy Grail of books. His family has a big attachment to superheroes, and much of his conversation in the early days of the school year focused on Superman and all his pals and enemies. Perfect. What do you give a boy that hates to read? Comic books, of course. He sank easily into a world filled with good versus evil, enjoying how quickly he could slip through a story.

After a few quick comics, I offered him a slightly larger graphic novel -- still filled with superheroes, of course. The other boys in class were fascinated that I was allowing him to read these books, and soon there were waiting lists for the books he was reading. He began to lift his head a little higher.

Next, more graphic novels. This time, he read things without the stereotypical superhero. By now, he was asking for time to read. In fact, just the other week he said to me with his crooked, dimpled grin, "I used to think I wasn't a good reader but now I think I like reading. I'm pretty good at it."

I couldn't suppress my excitement. I gave him a huge hug. I tried not to smile so widely as to frighten the poor boy. "You're right. You are definitely a good reader."

Last week I grabbed my copy of The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick. I boldy set it on the table beside him.

"Check this out," I said, "My son read this when he was about your age. I think you might really enjoy it. It's sort of like the graphic novels you've been reading."

He was hooked. The other kids couldn't believe he was reading such a thick book. Everyone wanted to know how many pages it had. He carried it everywhere with him. He begged me to let him read instead of doing math, his favorite subject.

Today, he took it with him to dismissal, finished the last few pages while waiting for his mom, and handed it to me as he walked to his car.

"I did it!" he yelled as he passed the book to me.

His transformation began slowly. For days I felt like a kid watching a chrysalis in hopes of catching the new creation as it emerged. I wasn't certain anything was actually going to happen. But when that spark finally did light? It was fast -- FLASH -- and off he went, a reader.