A Reader’s Notebook: Letting Books Live On by Melanie Fuemmeler-(简单的翻译)Melanie Fuemmeler-噬书如命的读书人的笔记

As a classroom teacher, I always felt it second nature to share my reading life.  After all, I had 28 beaming faces (well, most were beaming) looking at me each day to guide them as readers, writers, mathematicians, historians, and scientists.  Sharing what I loved to read with my kids was a favorite part of the day.  While book recommendations got a decent amount of energy going around some books, it didn’t take me long to realize that the long-term excitement I had hoped it would bring simply wasn’t there.  The cycle went something like this–I (or a student) did a book talk, students got jazzed about that book, everyone wanted it (even the kids who had no intention of reading it), everyone read it (or pretended to), and then the inevitable, “Now what?”  That last part always bothered me.  Why was I always the one they looked to answer that question?  I wanted them to answer it.  Sure, I was happy to give guidance but this went beyond that.  This was dependency.  I would respond, “You tell me.  What would you like to read next?”  I don’t know.


I realized I was only scratching the surface in sharing who I was as a reader.  It was not enough to only share the texts I read and loved (or hated).  They needed to know why these books did or did not work for me.  That moment of clarity birthed my reader’s notebook.


I opened to the first page and began drafting an answer to that very question–who was I as a reader?  In a matter of minutes I had memories spilling out of me from childhood summers, grade school days, high school hallways, and beyond detailing my unique experiences that turned me into a lifelong reader.  From there, I drafted that narrative into “100 Things About Me as a Reader”- an idea I read about on another blog.  It was incredible all that came back to me as I reflected solely on my reading experiences.  Things I hadn’t thought about in years or even remembered at all suddenly came forth through my pencil, spilling onto the pages in smiles, sighs, and cringes.


I showed up the next day charging my students with the same task. They began writing about who they were as a reader.  For some, this was quite difficult and they came up with strikingly little.  I showed them my example and how I’d transformed my narrative into my “100 list” as we came to call it.  I told them not be intimidated by the number, but rather to use it as a metric to really think about the many elements that make us a reader.  Just as we learned that sharing books wasn’t enough to turn someone into a lifelong reader, it also wasn’t enough to simply label yourself as a lover or hater of reading.  I encouraged them to dig deeper, to know why they felt that way.  That’s what this was all about.  I was also careful not to tell them “finish” their list, but rather to keep “adding to it.”  I did not want this to seem like an assignment or task to simply get done.  I wanted it to be an opportunity for reflection every time they opened a book. Therefore, the list may reach beyond 100.  Or perhaps this year they might only get to 30.  The number didn’t matter so much as the practice–purposeful self-reflection.





Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  更改 )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  更改 )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  更改 )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  更改 )


Connecting to %s