OmegaMom

I have a whole slew of news aggregators and what-not that I visit on a regular basis:  Technorati’s Popular News list, which collects news stories that bloggers have linked to; Nielsen’s BlogPulse top news stories listing; ScienceBlogs for what’s new in science; Will Femia’s Clicked column in MSNBC for off-beat items that have hit the national zeitgeist.

In a very strained segue, the title of my post has nothing to do with Will’s column.  Har.  Will’s column is named "Clicked" because…well, it’s what he clicked on today.

"Clicked" has many different meanings.

One of the ones I like the most is related to learning.  There’s a stage in learning something new where suddenly what was previously strained and a conscious process becomes subconscious and easy and flowing.  I personally think of this as moving from the front of the brain (consciously thinking of the steps to take) to the back of the brain (knowing the steps to take so well that it is ingrained).  It’s like when the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle have fit together to the point where the overall picture is suddenly visible; it’s no longer a series of discrete color blobs.

The "clicked" analogy is related to keys and locks.  You put in a key, or (if your path is a less legal one) a lockpick, turn it, hear the "click" of the lock tumblers as they fall into place, and suddenly the key can turn and the door is unlocked.  What was previously a barrier is now wide open.

The dotter knew her letters ages ago and was able to write her name at age 4.  In preschool they began devoting some time each day to a letter of the week.  In kindergarten, phonics was the name of the game…each week, a new letter sound was added, and the kids were introduced to the concept of the phonemes behind the letters and how to sound them out.  Starting in January, the teacher would send a small book home each Monday as homework, asking them to be returned on Friday.  Oh, it was agony; the dotter would sloooowly sound the words out…she’d fidget and wiggle and read a sentence or two…then she’d want to stop and hop around, or dance, or jump up and down…then she’d skew the book this way and that way and slooowly sound out a few more words…

Of course, they were dreadfully boring "books" to me, filled with sentences like "Nat has a pal.  His pal is sad.  Nat is sad for his pal.  They hop on the rug.  The rug is tan.  They hop off the rug.  His pal is glad.  Nat is glad."  The end.

Oy.

But we have persevered.  I have had the dotter (slooowly) read some of her small science-y books, which she loves; things like "The Ladybug Life Cycle", or "Hurricanes!" or "Cool Penguins", or "Awesome Walruses!"  And for months, it has been a struggle, with the same fidget/wiggle/read/hop/jump/read/skew book/wiggle/read cycle.

We have a routine for bedtimes where we alternate one night of daddy playing with the girl with one night of mommy reading a story.  Tonight, as we were heading up to bed, she reminded me, "It’s story night tonight, Mommy!"  And I said to her, "Okay.  But I’m going to start making you read to me sometimes, too!"  She caroled out, "All right!" as she took the stairway two steps at a time.

I read "Froggy’s New Sister" to her, and then she held out her hand.  I handed the book over to her.  She began to read.

She read quickly and easily.  She stopped only a few times, at works like "know" or "taught" or "wrestled" or "Pollywogalina".  She kept reading.  She didn’t wiggle and fidget.  She didn’t get frustrated and thump the book down, saying, "I’m tired!"  She didn’t have to slowly sound out words all the time, just some of the time.  She kept going.  And going.  And we both started getting really excited, because it was easy for her to read, and she was on page 17.  And then she was on page 21.  And then she was done with the book.

It’s finally "clicked".

Oh, I know there will be setbacks.  There will be times when it’s a pain in the butt to get her to read anything.  But this is a Big Deal to me, and to her, and to OmegaDad…because it’s that "ease" in reading, that "no longer in the front of the head, but in the back of the brain" mental activity that makes reading something fun and useful and exciting.  And reading…well, it’s the basis of just about everything in education from this point forward.  And there’s a helluva world of entertainment waiting for her now, a universe of new worlds imagined by other people that she can dip into now by opening up the pages of a book.

And it’s damned exciting for me.