What To Read in June

The plan was to begin reading Harry Potter out loud to the girls when Hadley turned eight, because for years I thought eight was the age HP was when the story began.  Turns out, he’s eleven. Eleven years of sitting in that damn cupboard beneath the stairs. I hadn’t realized until we’d started it, and I’ll have you know it is nearly impossible to stop Harry Potter once you’ve begun. I have no regrets, though.  The week we started The Sorcerer’s Stone Jesse left for Alabama for a week and I needed a little magic. The girls sat on the floor and played with legos while I read until an exciting part came up and then they’d hop on the couch and read along, each would put a hand on one of my knees. I don’t think they would tell you they were scared when they learned about the troll in the bathroom on Halloween night, or when Harry kept getting thrown off his broom during his first Quidditch game. I don’t even think they would say they were scared when they found the dead unicorn in the Forbidden Forest and some mysterious thing came flying their way. (Yes, I have put them in the story. It’s what happens when you read Harry Potter.) I also don’t think they’d say they knew Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be OK through all of it. I think they trust the narrator, and when you trust a narrator, you will go anywhere with her no matter if it’s scary and you don’t know how it’ll end.

I’ve read the books a few times but this is the first time I am reading it with a deep thankfulness for Hermione. She’s the first girl Hadley has met who can hang with the boys.  She’s tough. She’s smart. She stands up for herself. I hope Hadley thinks about Hermione a lot while she grows up. I think Hermione will teach her a lot, and maybe help her feel less alone at times when Hadley’s figuring herself out.

Wave is perfect for the summer, and it’s perfect for all the ages.  Here’s how you can read it to kids who are about to enter high school:

You tell them to look carefully because there are no words. You might be a little nervous reading a picture book, because c’mon, they’re 8th graders for crying out loud, but you’re going to remember how much you loved your elementary school librarian and how sad you were when she decided you were too old to be read to. You are going to be brave and flip the pages carefully and show the 8th graders the story.

They’re going to giggle and remember what it was like to play in the ocean.  It’s a fun little book, you’ll agree, but then you’re going to tell them, “Now think in metaphor.  What if the water is high school? What happens to the story then?”

Take a deep breath, and start over again.

“High school might smack us down,” they’re going to suggest.  “It might be confusing and overwhelming,” they’ll say.

“But it’ll leave you with treasure,” they’ll say.

“What about the birds?” you’ll ask, “What do you think they represent?”

Friends. Sports. Things to keep you company, maybe.

You’ll show them this page, and point your finger to the upper left hand corner where a bit of an umbrella creeps into the picture.  “Look who that is,” you’ll say.

“It’s Mom!” they’ll say.

“Yes, yes,” you’ll point out. “It’s Mom. She might not always be in the picture, but she wants to know what you’re finding in that great big world. You’ll show her every once in a while, right? It’s pretty scary for her to send you off into the sea with the rip tide and the sharks and jellyfish. You show her what treasures you’ve found every so often, OK?”

They’re going to giggle at that. They’re probably going to think you’re being melodramatic. Someone might call you sentimental.  But say it anyway.

Then hand out blue card stock, glue, and cotton balls.  Tell them to make their own metaphor and write about it.

“The clam takes a rock and pushes down on it for years. As hard it can, it pushes on an ugly, single, worthless rock. The clam itself is ugly too, but once the clam feels the rock is ready, it opens the rock up to the world. It reveals a beautiful, coveted pearl that the world would love to have. That’s what high school is. It matures the smallest rock by putting tons of pressure on it so it becomes so beautiful it’s ready for the world to see.”

Here’s to lots of magic and metaphor in June.

{I’m linking up to Literacy Musing Mondays on Mary-anding Creativity today. Hop over to read more great posts on reading and writing.}