On a recent trip home to Kansas City, I stopped by my local Barnes & Noble to pick up a birthday present for my boyfriend. While standing in line to pay for the book, I heard the unmistakeable wailing of a child throwing a tantrum. I was notorious for my tantrums during my terrible twos, and because of that, I not only appreciate tantrums, but like to think of them as an Olympic sport for kids. And the little girl who got in line behind me deserved multiple gold medals.
“Mommy, I want a book!” She screamed, her red face splotchy with tears as she tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “I want a book! I want a book! I want a book!”
Some people close by shot disapproving glances, some passersby winced, and the employees behind the counter stood with fake smiles plastered on their faces. But I couldn’t stop laughing. I’ve seen kids throw tantrums over toys, clothes, candy, you name it – but I have never seen a kid throw a tantrum over a book.
I let the family go in front of me so I could watch them. While the mother paid for something at the register, the dad stood with his arms crossed, glaring at his shrieking daughter. A little boy, probably around seven, stood quietly beside him. All the while, the little girl kept crying and screaming, “I want a book! I want a book!”
It would be unfair of me to make assumptions about this family. For starters, it is very possible that this little girl throws a tantrum every time she walks into a store. Maybe she had just thrown a tantrum ten minutes before, over an Elmo doll or an ice cream cone. Maybe she already has a hundred books at home she has yet to read, and her parents are sick of buying them. Maybe her parents simply don’t have the finances to buy her a book every time she wants one. (Although the mother’s Coach handbag, and the family’s matching tall Starbucks hot chocolates suggested otherwise.)
But even with all of this in mind, as I watched the family leave the store, all I could think was: “For Pete’s sake, just get that kid a book.”
I won’t be a mother for quite some time, and I am in no position to give anyone parenting advice. But I was a little girl myself not too long ago, and I understand what made me the young woman I am today. Around my own tantrum-throwing age, I would drop an armful of books in my mom’s lap and stand there until she pulled up on the couch next to her and read to me. As I grew older, I developed a stutter, and my speech therapist required that I practice reading out loud. Most nights, my mom would sit on the edge of my bed and listen while I read Dear America and Pony Pal books out loud to her. Throughout elementary and middle school, I took a book with me everywhere I went, and read in class when I finished my homework, or under my desk when my teacher wasn’t looking. And my parents bought me books. For birthdays, for major holidays, for no reason at all – my parents gave me books.
I would not have developed a love for reading if my parents, and especially my mother, had not taken the time to show me the magic of books, and to encourage me to read. Because of them, I spent my childhood exploring old Boxcars, Magic Treehouses, Hogwarts, and the uncharted territories of my own imagination.
But when I think about the generation behind mine, and even the generation my own phantom children will someday belong to, I get scared. We’ve all heard the statistics about “kids these days.” They watch more TV, spend more time on the computer, and play more video games than even my technology-obsessed generation does. They prefer anything with a screen and moving pictures to black and white words on a page. And it’s only going to get worse from here.
Here’s a thought: as that family left the store, they passed by one of the unmissable Nook displays that dominate the entrance of every Barnes & Noble. I always run past them because Nooks (and Kindles) tend to raise my blood pressure. Recently, I discovered a Nook commercial (which you can view here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1KkZN6qUS-s ) that shows a little girl falling asleep in bed, reading The Cat in the Hat on her Nook. Because clearly, Nooks are better suited to teach children how to read than parents are. Why spend quality time with your daughter or son when they can cuddle up with a digital Dr. Seuss?
I would like to believe that if those parents stopped by the Nook display and offered their tantrum-throwing daughter a Nook, she would have turned up her nose at it – because even kids know the difference between an actual book and an overpriced reading device. But who knows. She might have started screaming, “I want a Nook!” and thrown her Starbucks hot chocolate on the floor.
Despite my disdain for the Nook ad, they did get one thing right: we need to read forever. Chances are, if you read this blog, you are a writer, or a lover of literature. I know I don’t need to lecture you to read more. But because we are writers and readers, it is our duty to be advocates for reading, and for books. We need to throw tantrums over books, over the stories that thrilled us when we were first learning how to read, and the stories that thrill us today. Somebody has to get kids, and all our technology-loving peers, excited about reading. It might as well be us.
Personally, I promise that if I ever see another little kid throwing a tantrum over a book, I will not only buy them a book, I will buy them two. Then I’ll probably throw a tantrum myself, just for fun.
I read this early article early this morning, and got quite angry. I came back to it this evening, and the frustration is still there. I have a few responses.
1. “I won’t be a mother for quite some time, and I am in no position to give anyone parenting advice. ” And yet, here you are, announcing that you would buy that screaming child TWO books, despite her parents decision to do otherwise.
2. The child should NOT be given a book. That’s not a behavior to reward.
3. The author says indignantly “Because clearly, Nooks are better suited to teach children how to read than parents are. Why spend quality time with your daughter or son when they can cuddle up with a digital Dr. Seuss?” It’s an e-book. A Dr. Seuss e-book. The stories are the same, they just don’t have to turn paper pages.
4. Related to #3, the author is suggesting that the unseen parents in the commercial did not do any reading to the child themselves. I have a 3-year-old. I read to her all the time. But sometimes–sometimes–she reads to herself. And that is awesome. And encouraged. And if I could trust her to not throw a Nook off the bed when she was done with it, I would consider letting her keep one with her at bedtime so that she could do just want the girl in the commercial did–fall asleep while reading. Who cares if it’s a paper book or an e-book? The kid’s reading for fun. Is the information devalued because it appears on a screen rather than paper? If so, then one could argue that this article has less value than one printed in a journal…of course, given my feelings on this article, that might be the case.
5. If this woman tries to buy a book for my kid while she’s throwing a tantrum (the last one she fought for was quite pricey in-store, and much cheaper online), I can assure you, I will have many choice words for her, and none of them will be “Thank you for undermining my authority in front of my child by buying her the exact book I told her she could not have.”
Well written by a passionate reader, parents, this could be your child! Buy them books (or nooks). Maura you make us proud.
Great piece! I actually had a similar experience at a B&N. A young boy (10ish) was carrying around a remaindered WWII history book and actually reading it, not just looking at the pictures. His dad kept ignoring his requests to buy it. I finally went up to Dad and asked if I could buy it, since I was so impressed that his son was reading history. Dad was embarrassed, then smiled, and accepted my offer. The kid was so stoked, and followed me around after I bought it. We sat down and talked about history, and I hope he remembers me when he is an adult.
As to parents reading, mine did not read to me. Because they wouldn’t, I couldn’t wait to read. They kept telling me I would learn in school. My first day in kindergarten I came home furious and wouldn’t talk to my mother. When my dad came home and finally coaxed it out of me, I told them (with tears streaming down my face) that they lied to me – we didn’t learn to read at school. I learned quickly in 1st grade and have never stopped since. I even married a librarian! Don’t know if I would have been such a voracious reader if they had, but reading is still a joy.
When I read this post, as a parent of a spirited 2 year-old, I had similar thoughts to B. Attitude. I understand that the author is trying to use a metaphor to advocate for more reading passion, and I understand that she added some caveats to try to be understanding and less judgmental. But this post still irked me, and here’s why.
Every parent hates the public toddler temper tantrum. Even though the only way to completely avoid the public tantrum is to never go out in public, we still fear such moments, and the scrutiny from onlookers. What makes it better is receiving knowing glances from people who have raised toddlers (that’s just how little ones are, not your fault, Mom). What makes it worse is nosy, perhaps well-intentioned, people who either have never raised kids or did it so long ago that they have forgotten, giving advice or approaching the scene advocate for the poor, powerless child under your care. “Why don;t you just buy the kid a book? It’s a book, for Pete’s sake!” Or, “Doesn’t your mommy realize you need a hat and mittens on?” These interventions begin from the moment we get pregnant. “Are you really drinking that soda?” a woman says looking at my baby bump. “You’re eating for the baby now, you know?” My response: do you know how many times I’ve puked today because of the dang baby? This is the only thing I can keep down. Now butt out.
Now, if you really want to see my mama bear claws come out, just come up and tell me what I should buy for my kid, how I should dress him, and what he should eat because, if it’s past eight am, it most likely isn’t the first temper tantrum of the day. What you haven’t seen is that we’ve already battled about sock color, whether he needs to wear long pants or shorts in December, whether I put too much peanut butter in his oatmeal and should make another batch, and whether we could take the grocery cart home with us from the store. My son’s won some of the battles. I’ve won some. If I’m lucky, a few times I’ve made him feel like he’s won when I’ve won. And now we’ve moved on to this current moment, and we’re muddling through the best we can.
The thing is, toddlers are passionate people. Yes, they are passionate about books. [The author says she's never seen a temper tantrum about books, but that's because she's probably not around kids constantly. In our house, no matter how many books we read before bed, and we'll still have crying after the lights are out for MORE BOOKS]. But they are passionate about many other things. Toddlers are Renaissance men and women, with amazing interests spread across the spectrum. They are scientists, musicians, artists, engineers, gymnasts, inventors, house cleaners, gardeners, pretenders, builders, and passionate linguists. It’s truly fascinating to watch. The goal as a parent is to let children explore all these interests but also to help them understand key lessons for getting along in the world and becoming a good person These include cooperation, empathy, and respect for others. And yes, part of that is understanding boundaries. I’m a book lover, but still I’d rather have a kid who realizes that screaming as loud as you can to get what you want isn’t an effective negotiation tactic, than a spoiled brat who gets everything he wants and is an avid reader but difficult for anybody in the outside world to tolerate. My goal is to raise a good person. I read in front of him to let him know that reading is a good thing to do (and because I can’t help it). I read to him because he loves and demands it. We write letters and words in the sand at the beach because it’s fun. But my goal is to raise not just a reader but a happy, well-adjusted kid who can get along in society.
One good point the author makes is that fostering a love of books early is important. I would suggest that, if the author really wants to encourage passion about reading in young people, there are better things she can do than buying books for random, screaming toddlers in stores.
Volunteer to watch a neighbor’s kid for a few hours on a Sat morning and read the kid some books while her parents do some chores and get a much-needed break.
In my state (Maine), we have a grant-funded program which provides free books to children at well child visits. This program has increased the rates that parents read to kids significantly. We should all promote and spread programs like that, programs that provide access to age-appropriate books for high and low income families alike. If kids have access to books, believe me, they will sit in your lap and beg you to read them and sometimes even throw temper tantrums about not wanting to stop reading.
Donate books to charity agencies that can put them in the hands of low income kids. This would have a similar result.
Volunteer at a before or after school program reading with kids.
Finally – and perhaps most importantly – if you’re truly interested in fostering love of books, I would encourage you not to criticize how kids read (e.g., Nook), or even what they read. Isn’t the key just THAT they read and begin to foster an enjoyment of the act of reading?