Read Aloud to Older Kids Too

Parents are often shocked when they learn that I read aloud to my boys.  The thought conjures up images of cuddling into bed with a toddler to read a picture book with talking animals.  My boys, however, are six, eight, and ten years old.  The older two are accomplished readers already and are more than capable of reading on their own (which they do voraciously Рof comics and graphica!)  My youngest child, Cal, still struggling to make sense of that mix of letters that form words, is the only one who really fits the profile of the bedtime story child.

In our household these days, Cal is hardpressed to get a peek at brightly illustrated pages because he’s sitting among his big brothers as I read, uh,¬†novels – one chapter at a time every night.¬† I’ve tried and tried and tried to encourage my older boys to pick up a classic to read on their own.¬† They just don’t have the will or ambition to read a full length novel.¬† They are far more comfortable perusing the same Captain Underpants or Diary of a Wimpy Kid than a novel of my choice.¬† Unless I read aloud to them.

In an earlier post I wrote about my experience reading Pinocchio to them, as well as the first Harry Potter installment.¬† All three boys sat quietly through every chapter.¬† I’d periodically look up from the page to quiz them on the latest action in the book when¬†their flaccid faces caused me to suspect they weren’t listening.¬† But not so.¬† They always had a quick and ready answer, then would encourage me to carry on with the story.

While there is as much push as ever to get our young kids to learn to read as early as possible, parents may want to consider exactly what that means to a child’s reading autonomy.¬† It should not, in fact, be an automatic precursor to silent, individual reading.¬† When an adult shares a longer, albeit more complicated, story with early readers, it affords the opportunity for children to talk aloud about the action of the story.¬† Aside from the obvious bonding¬†benefits (which is ever-fleeting as the kids grow up), it helps develop that more elusive aspect to reading – comprehension of the story.

When Pinocchio kills the friendly cricket (no – we did not read¬†the Disney version), we discussed it and all agreed that was not a nice thing to do!¬† While reading The Indian in the Cupboard (a surprisingly fantastic book), I enjoyed watching my¬†eight-year old smile appreciatively when the story described the crybaby cowboy character.¬† I could see he was relating to “Boohoo Boone’s” propensity to get emotional when life gets a little tough (he’s our sensitive boy who is not immune to being called a crybaby himself by his less charitable brothers.)¬†

When my oldest son, John, brought home The Indian in the Cupboard a couple months ago from the school library, I was thrilled and strongly encouraged him to read it.  He did, until he lost interest in it in two days later.  Then the boys asked me start reading it at bedtime. 

“I thought you didn’t want to read it?” I asked John.

He shrugged and cocked his head to the side.¬† “Well, that’s different.¬† I’ll like it if you read it to us.”

So I did.  And, we loved it.