Ghostopolis: Good for 12 & 44-Year-Old Readers

                Ghostopolis has been floating around for a couple of years now and for some strange reason –strange because I very much enjoy graphic novels- I hadn’t turned my attention to it until recently. Even then, I trotted the book out for use with a group of my students thinking to use it as a bridge to more “serious” texts. Well, shame on me -especially, me! I’ve been a fan of words married to pictures, comics and graphic novels, my entire life and I fell into the prevailing bias so many seem to have for these authored works –that they’re something to pass the time, not worthy of heavier examination and reflection. Ghostopolis set me right. More importantly, it connected with many of my students, helping them go below mere surface reading.
                Ghostopolis is the story of Garth, a boy who has an incurable disease, and is accidentally pulled into the world of ghosts. There he meets his grandfather who looks almost as young as he does. His grandfather provides Garth with the lay of the land: how Ghostopolis came to be, why many ghosts sneak back to live among the living, how Vaugner (our villain) rose to power, and how Garth as a living being among the non-living has amazing abilities as long as he employs his imagination.
                While the plotted events in the novel are straightforward, the story message is less obviously given; and those students who opted to read Ghostopolis soon learned to become careful examiners of what was depicted and what was repeated. Ghostopolis, because of its illustrations, helped my developing readers examine the literary elements of theme and symbolism more readily. They were able to identify the repetition of loss in the story and eventually connect it to character redemption by the end. Characters clothed in pilot outfits were looked at much differently once they began to consider the symbolic qualities behind such uniforms. (These are people we trust to help us reach a destination.)
                While much of this may seem heady and dour, Doug Tennapel did a terrific job of weaving in plenty of humor. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if younger or less scrutinizing readers mistook the book for simple, comedic adventure. Better still, the novel left my students clamoring for more. Each wanted to know if there was a sequel. Is there a better complement for a book than having readers desiring to read more of it? I think not.

Summer Enrichment Offerings

The Town of Glastonbury offers several enriching camps and workshops each summer. I'm happy to announce that I will be involved in two of them with my good colleague Patrick Zabroski. We will co-teach both the Reading Enrichment Camp and the Glastonbury Games Club. Specific details regarding dates, times, and price will follow very soon on the Glastonbury Schools website. A brief description of each of our workshops follows:

Reading Enrichment Camp: I know all too well how summer can slip away with children having not even started the required summer reading. (I have three boys and it's happened in each case at least once. I, of course, blame this on my wife. usually from a great distance -like a state, or two :) Thus was born the idea behind this workshop. Patrick and I want to help the procrastinator in us all get a head start on our summer reading. Using a modified Reader's Workshop model, we will present how we read books, take notes, and focus on the pleasurable aspects to reading. We'll also help participants find non-fiction materials to go along with their fiction selection. The workshop meets for one week, four hours each day, allowing us to model strategies, conference with students, discuss and write, and read for a sustained period of time. So, why not take a little of the pressure off the end of summer by joining us at Smith School at the beginning of summer.

Glastonbury Games Club: Let me get this one straight. I love video games, but I recognize that too often this idle pursuit doesn't bring people together as much as it brings player and machine together. Patrick and I decided that, as great as computers are, it wouldn't hurt to nurture the social component that comes from face-to-face meetings. We also thought it might be a good idea to side-step the ole standbys, like organized sports, and go for something new -boardgames. We've got a nice list of games that allow 2-4, or even 4-8, individuals to play together in one room. Imagine that? These are the kinds of games that have a nice blend of easy to learn rules and compelling strategy. They're not your typical games either. There's Quirkle, Rummikub, Formula De, and more, much more.  Some of these may well end up in your home after your child plays them. Game night anyone?

Or, check out some of the other fine offerings within Glastonbury this summer.

Tisk, Tisk, to Both of Us.

I cannot help myself. I don't really want to note the problems with an alphabet puzzle meant to entertain toddlers but, as a well-known philosopher often said, "I y'am what I y'am."  (Hmmm...so Popeye is not a philosopher, but he is well known.)

I'm unsure how the puzzle pictured above came into our home, but I'm the first to admit that I'm disappointed I let it remain in my house all these years. The puzzle is a Melisa & Doug creation and it's quite likely you own or have owned one of their many products. To be clear, I think the company (duo?) produces many fine educational toys, but with this one, they failed.

Well, what's wrong with it, you may wonder? It looks like a rather nice alphabet puzzle all things considered. It's colorful, made of fine, solid, wood, and quite picturesque. All true, but that's not what has me thinking tisk, tisk to both myself and the designers.

To begin, the letter E rankles me. No, I have nothing against elephants. (Does anyone?) I'm bothered by the use of the word "elephant" to teach the sound of the letter E. The word "elephant" does not allow for the discrete, clear, pronunciation of the short sound for E. What we say, and what a child mostly hears, when the word "elephant" is spoken is an L sound. Most children will certainly hear and see the letter E in many other words as they learn language, but for some even one instance such as this can cause problems. Better choices are words such as "egg" and "Eskimo." Of course, drawing any of these along the shape of the letter E is not necessarily easy. Still, is it that hard to paint a dozen eggs instead? Or an Eskimo with his body making the vertical line, his sled as the bottom horizontal line, an outstretched hand as the middle horizontal line, and maybe a cloud, some wind, or a sun as the top vertical line? If they can squish a picture of a kangaroo into the letter K and have two monkeys (holding hands?) for the letter M, then they can come up with alternatives to an elephant! Okay, I need to calm down right? It's only one letter. Oh but no. That's not true at all.

Not even two spots away sits the letter G...I think. The picture for this letter is a globe. The hard G sound is most appropriate. So no real issues for me there. However, the picture itself is baffling. A ruler of some measure (longitude? latitude?) is wrapped around the globe, and it is nearly impossible to discern from the globe. The end result is a blue and green circle better representative of a football helmet in shape than the letter G. To quote the lingo of today's youth I say, "EPIC FAILURE!" (My 5-year-old generally calls it a G. He knows G follows F because he can sing the alphabet but it doesn't stop him from saying it in a questioning voice after having paused a few seconds. It's a very troubling two seconds in both our lives.)

Hey, I can hear pleas for reason among many of you. 24 out of 26 isn't all that terrible, you say. That's 92% you rightly point out. Maybe, maaaaybe I could meet you half-way on this matter because anything above 90% just seems so credible. Sigh (and tisk, tisk Melisa & Doug) even this benchmark is not met. Enter the letter I.

The letter I is a picture of ice cream on a cone. Lovely...if you're being offered it, and as far from a treat as one can imagine if it's supposed to help a little one learn the short sound of the letter I. Every time I see that "ice cream" I scream, "What were they thinking?" The long sound of any vowel is (pardon my dessert focused mind) a piece of cake (not ice cream). One simply tells a child that all long vowel sounds say their name. So, the direct instruction, from a parent or teacher, is really set to teaching children the short vowel sounds. The letter I should have been pictured by something like an impala, or an insect, or a nice igloo to go with my Eskimo. Better yet, let's roll with an iguana! An iguana is both cool looking and rhymes with Lagana. (Hmmm...I suppose the marketing department for Melisa & Doug might balk at this particular pitch. How many Laganas are in the market for a puzzle board?)

I'm not done with Melisa & Doug and their poorly designed letter I just yet. The shape is totally unacceptable. Where's the dot over the body of the letter? Oh right, we can't have a picture with a single scoop of ice cream floating over a cone because that would be bad for a child to see. Well then, if it's supposed to be a capital letter then where are the little horizontal line thingies at the top and bottom? Apparently a picture fitting to the shape of an upper case I is beyond the creative talents of this company.

So, to the optimists I now present an updated score. The correct tally is now 23 of 26 letters, which is 88%. That's a B, and in teacher parlance not quite head-of-the-class when it comes to alphabet puzzles. You'd "B" wise to avoid this Melisa & Doug product.

Before I dismiss class and hop down from my beleaguered soapbox, let me share a better wooden alphabet puzzle. The one on the bottom is far superior and far less likely to have me in fits. I love the upper and lower case letters near one another. I also like, very much, that the letters are solid colors with pictures below. And wouldn't you know, it's another Melisa & Doug puzzle. A little redemption for them, eh?

Tisk, tisk. I've really no one but myself to blame for holding onto the first puzzle to begin with.

Okay, I'm late to the party, but only by a decade. I just started reading the first book in the Series of Unfortunate Events collection, The Bad Beginning. Yep, many of you may have shared these books with your children already, but for the handful of you, like me, who've not had the pleasure, it's not too late to share these with your own.

Snicket, whose name evokes the idea the author is chuckling as he tells his stories, has formed a series that makes for a great read aloud. They have a fairy tale-esque feel to them. Snickett is forthright in explaining that one should not expect to read a happy story. He adds that readers who dislike unpleasant tales should put his book down and walk away, which of course is the perfect way to get a young one to want to read something.

Lemony Snicket (This is not the author's real name. It's Daniel Handler.) is clearly having fun with his stories of the Baudelaire children and the dreadful events they must live through. It may sound odd to enjoy reading about three children who become orphans and suffer one ill-fated outcome after another, but such is the nature of adolescence (and yes, I do count myself among them). There's something delicious about seeing what more the author can heap upon his young characters. Now, before anyone takes to much of this to heart, bear in mind that Mr. Snickett's three lead characters continually find a way to thwart their awful situations. But, I digress.

I cannot emphasize enough how good these books are for developing a stronger, deeper, understanding of words.The narrator frequently stops to explain a word directly to his readers, which he feels is important for them (us) to know. When a Mr. Poe is attempting to move the Baudelaire children along it's written as follows:

                        "...I'm dropping you off on my way to the bank, so we need to leave as

                         soon as possible. Please get out of bed and get dressed," he said briskly.

                         The word "briskly" here means "quickly, so as to get the Baudelaire

                         children to leave the house."

Surprisingly this injection by the narrator does not detract from the story and instead proves to be a welcome, momentary, diversion for children still aquiring new words. Snickett will in other instances define how some words have multiple meanings depending on the context. For the word "lousy" he explains that it can mean when things are terrible, of course, but also that it can refer to it's more original usage -covered with lice. (Louse being the singular for lice.)

If you're still not sold, then why not check out book one, A Bad Beginning, which is availble for free online at http://www.lemonysnicket.com/  It would be most unfortunate if you didn't.

How do you read from a computer screen?

We all know the power of the Internet. We maintain communication with friends, make plans, play games, conduct financial activities, explore new things, and read.

It's the last item I've listed that every so often commands my attention, because I'm left to wonder if the reading I do from the computer screen helps or hurts me. And, by extension, I wonder how it impacts kids who spending time "reading" before the warming luminescence of a computer screen.

Here's what I know for sure. When I read from a computer screen, it's often a painful process. I dislike the experience. To begin, I'm usually in a chair, which is not my ideal reading position. The screen is no friend either. The light from most screens is harsh and the contrast between text and background is too extreme for eyes. Then there's the web "page" which is frequently saturated with advertisements or pop-ups designed to move me away from concentrated reading. Add in the mouse pointer, which I frequently need to move away from the spot I'm trying to read every twenty seconds; and also the temptation of embedded hyperlinks and I begin to opt for quicker avenues through any text of length.

Take a look at the list that follows and consider how many of these events are generally practiced by you or come to confound you:

>> skim far more than read word-for-word what's on the screen <<
>> drift from the page, with every intention of returning, as you click multiple hyperlinks <<
>> put your finger to the screen to help follow the text <<
>> use the mouse to highlight what you've covered as you read <<
>> click over to the print version of the article to avoid as many distractors as possible <<
>> bookmark the page again with the full intention of reading it fully at a later point <<
>> rarely reread because it feels like losing time more than improving understanding <<
>> print a hard copy because that's the best way to ensure you're reading properly <<

When I look at the list I know I'm guilty of poor reading. Reading is defined as a complex activity involving my knowledge, the text before me, and the author. Skimming, failing to reread, web page hopping, and good intentions to read later are all the proof I need in the Court of Me that I'm not doing this complex activity justice. So....

If I'm guilty of these poor screen reading behaviors what's happening with kids? Well, they certainly believe they're reading online, they insist as much. It only takes a few questions to know otherwise because they're dealing with all of the problems/adaptations noted above plus instant messages, music streams, and far less experience with book reading than you or I. I do not fault the kids of course for what I cannot avoid, but poor screen reading behaviors undermine reading proper. Reading is hard and we do know (despite the articles and claims to the contrary) that we comprehend best when not multitasking or confronted with distractions.

Books still have a place in our classes and homes if for no other reason than they continue to be the best vehicle for delivery of substantial information and ideas. Until technology can make information from the Internet present itself as a book, it's simply a very poor man's version of the real thing. A book does only one task and it does it well. We need to make sure our children learn this too.