I am sorry to say that I did not grow up in a 'reading' house. My father did not have high school education until he achieved a GED while I was in university (making me very proud!) and Mom had a degree from a Northwestern Pennsylvania vocational school. Reading was not a part of their life; I do not recall having been read to by them. I didn't really learn to read for pleasure, apart from comic books, until I entered graduate school. I am somewhat envious of people for whom reading was an integral part of their family life. I had hoped to reinforce reading in young kids with our Saturday Story Hour, to make up in a way for what I missed (Of course, the kids who attend Story Hour come from closely knit, Reading families). What I do recall, though, was the story telling when my mother and her sisters gathered around the table after one of those canonical American meals (Thanksgiving, a birthday, Memorial Day and so on). They talked about their lives and times when they grew up in a tiny coal mining town in Jefferson County, PA. We kids could not get enough because this was our stock, or at least Mom's part of the stock -- for whatever reason my father's family was not well integrated into our lives and we know little of their life Before America. In this article, Walter Mosley talks about the rich traditions of his family that had its origins in New Orleans and migrated westward from the terrible yoke of racism to (they hoped) the California dream.
Here is a brief extract, but I urge you to read the whole (not so long) article:
"One
by one, these books form a chorus of trusted voices that accompany
readers into adulthood. When others succumb to the cacophony of modern
life, readers can rely on personalized internal guides that cause them
to pause and wonder and question — often at just the right moments.
Their reading becomes a virtual map, an internal GPS system that guides
them away from the prefabricated and canned production line that so many
are shunted toward.
I’m
not saying that you have to be a reader to save your soul in the modern
world. I’m saying it helps. Artists, musicians, naturally empathetic
children and people born to the beat of a different drum often embark on
more original lives than the Company Store wants for us. They’re
naturally more resistant to the forces of big business and big
government."
