Thank You, Mrs. Radar – Or How Reading Shaped My World

Growing up, reading was always an important part of my life. I still remember when our local public library opened a children’s department, and most Sundays at 3:30pm, that is where you would find me. Being let loose in that magical room, and knowing I could select 3 books to take home with me was like being transported to a different world.

At my house, the newspaper was read after work by the adults, while we children read whatever might interest us. Before 4th grade, I had so many magazine subscriptions there was always something new and interesting to read. These were educational magazines, and they opened a world I had never seen.

There were always books on our bookshelves in the family room, especially Reader’s Digest condensed books. There was no such thing as a “children’s book” in my home – if you wanted to read it, you simply did. If it was too advanced for you, you simply wouldn’t understand it, and would move on.

You might think that I was always a good reader, but you would be wrong. I was the last child in my class to learn to read, and it frustrated me to no end. I didn’t learn to read until the end of first grade. My teacher, Mrs. Radar, never gave up on me. She told me that all flowers bloom when they are ready, and I would bloom and read when I was ready. With her, I never felt dumb or stupid, even as all the other children began reading, and I still couldn’t.

I would sit with one of my Fun With Dick and Jane readers and desperately try to recognize a word – any word, but day after day, they eluded me. While everyone else moved on, I still struggled with the first reader, We Look and See.

I remember one day towards the end of the year, staring at that book, willing myself to recognize a word – any word! “It” was the first word I recognized, followed by “look” and then “come.” Then the words all came together and told a story. Dick, Jane, Sally, Spot, and Fluffy all helped me feel like I had conquered the world! From that point on, I read everything and anything I could get my hands on.

My love of chapter books started in the 3rd grade, when Mrs. Arnquist began reading aloud every day after recess. She read the most incredible books, and it encouraged me to start checking-out chapter books instead of picture books at the library.

She encouraged us to learn new words by reading, and to share those new words with the class. It made learning vocabulary a game. We couldn’t wait for our turn to go up to the front of the class, tell our word, read the sentence we found with that word in it, and explain what it meant to the whole class. It was exciting! Yes, vocabulary was exciting!

We learned to use a dictionary that year. I remember one time, Mrs. Arnquist “bet” us an ice cream sundae if we could find an English word (excluding abbreviations) which had no vowel in it. We all read through the dictionary for days hoping to win that sundae, but of course, we never did find one.

At school, in 4th and 5th grade, our class went frequently to the school library, where Mrs. Katz, the librarian, ruled supreme. She could direct you to any book you desired, and when you weren’t sure what book to choose, she always had marvelous suggestions. I adored The Secret Garden in 5th grade. I chose it for its illustrated cover, but the writing entranced me. I was hooked.

In 4th grade and 5th grade, the reading aloud continued, each day, without fail. By this point, our teachers would announce the next book, and many of us would go the library and check out our own copy so we could read along. The only rule was we were not allowed to read ahead, so we wouldn’t ruin surprise twists and turns in the book.

Each day, we would beg our teacher to read more. Mrs. Rouse, our teacher in 4th grade, was a pro at ending at the best spots, leaving us begging for more. This is something I did when I became a teacher. I’d always pre-read the book, to find all the best stopping places that would leave my students begging for more.

To this day, I remember those books from 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade. Later in life, I read many of them to my own classes. Here are the ones that were the most memorable to me:
▸ By the Shores of Silver Lake
▸ Charlie & the Chocolate Factory
▸ Charlotte’s Web
▸ Farmer Boy
▸ Follow My Leader
▸ The Hiding Place
▸ Hitty, Her First Hundred Years
▸ Inky: Seeing Eye Dog
▸ Island of the Blue Dolphin
▸ Johnny Tremain
▸ The Life of Helen Keller
▸ Little House in the Big Woods
▸ Little House on the Prairie
▸ Little Town on the Prairie
▸ The Long Winter
▸ The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler
▸ My Side of the Mountain
▸ On the Banks of Plum Creek
▸ Ramona the Pest
▸ Runaway Ralph
▸ The Sign of the Beaver
▸ Snow Treasure
▸ Sounder
▸ Stuart Little
▸ The Summer of the Swan
▸ The Trumpet of the Swan
▸ The Witch of Blackburn Pond
▸ Where the Red Fern Grows

By the end of 4th grade, I was hooked – on chapter books! Long books, complicated books, grown-up books, books about war and poverty, exploration, making a new life, and life in far away or long-ago places. Every night, before bed, I sat on the floor of my bedroom, reading for at least half an hour. Sometimes, I spent most of my Saturdays reading, as well. I may have had a shaky start to reading, but later, it became life-changing.

Reading was not always smooth sailing for me. In junior high and high school, our district had a recommended reading list, and we were supposed to only read books from that list for school for book reports. This is when “the book report incident” happened.

We had to keep a log of all the books we read in our permanent file, so that we wouldn’t “cheat” and reread the book the next year, and reuse its book report. Once a book was on your book list, you couldn’t use it again.

I methodically kept my list, and every month would add to my reading log in my permanent file. By the end of 9th grade, I had read every single book on the entire recommended reading list for high school. Crime and Punishment, The Count of Monte Cristo, Les Miserables, The Three Musketeers, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Great Gatsby – I had read them all. There were over 200 books on that list, and most of them were classics.

My English teacher in 9th grade, Mrs. Barlow, didn’t believe I had read them all, but she began to ask me about many of the specific books and found I could answer every question she had. When it came time for the next book report, she was in a quandary. We weren’t supposed to do book reports unless they were books from the recommended book list, and I had already read them all. She told me to read any book I wanted, and I felt quite special.

I had an entire bookshelf of books at home that were not on the recommended reading list. I wanted to choose the most incredible book, but simply couldn’t decide which book would live up to that honor.

I had a friend, we were both avid readers, and she shared a book with me. She loved to read “trashy romance novels” that she kept hidden from her mother. She alluded to me that it was a very “grown-up” book. I took that as a challenge. I was a good reader. I could read “grown-up books.”

I was quite naive for a 9th grader, and while I enjoyed the book, there were parts of it I didn’t quite understand, and there were other parts that seemed very grown-up, and were describing things that shocked me a bit. I thoroughly enjoyed the book, anyway. I decided this must be what “grown up” books were like. It was full of intrigue, romance, and yes, there was a lot of description of “grown up” things. It used words to describe body parts that I had never heard before, so in that way, it was very educational.

When the day came for me to stand up in front of the class and give my book report, my teacher looked at the cover of the book, and said that I would have to wait until the next day to give my report. She skipped my name and went on to the next student. I was surprised by this, and even more surprised when my teacher told me to come back to her class after school.

After school, I dutifully went to her classroom, and she gave me a sealed envelope that was addressed “To the parents of…” I wondered what I had done wrong.

At home, my mom always worked late, so I gave it to my dad. He opened it and read it slowly, and then asked me to go get the book I had used for my book report.

He looked long and hard at the cover, and then flipped through a couple of chapters. He asked me why I had chosen this book, and I told him that it was exciting, and I learned many new vocabulary words from it, and that it talked about things, grown-up things, I had never heard about.

I can’t really describe the look on his face. It was a mix of concern and amusement. I could tell that he really didn’t know quite what to say.

He asked why I didn’t read a book from the recommended reading list, and I told him that I had read all of them, and the teacher had said I could choose any book I wanted, and that my friend had loaned me this book.

Then he asked me to get him a piece of paper and a pen, and the wrote a note back to my teacher. At this point, I still didn’t know what the teacher’s note said. When my dad finished writing his note, he read the teachers note to me.

It said

“Dear Mr. & Mrs. Thomas,
I’m sorry to tell you that your daughter has chosen a very inappropriate book for her class book report. It is pure smut, and I know you would never have allowed her to read it. I cannot allow her to give a book report in front of the class on this book. She will have to read another book, and do a new book report.”

Then my dad read his reply before sealing it in an envelope.

It read

“Dear Mrs. Barlow,
I agree that this is not the most appropriate book for a 9th grader, but you did tell her that she could choose any book. Perhaps next time, you should say the book has to be approved before reading it for a book report.

You should know that I do not, and will not, censor what my child reads. My daughter struggles in every subject in school except reading. In reading, she excels. She loves to read. I am simply glad that she reads, and I will not tell her what she can and cannot read.

She should not be punished by being forced to write another report on a different book. She put in the time and effort to complete your assignment, and followed your instructions to read any book she chose. She spent hours reading this book, and preparing her book report according to your outline. I insist that you allow her to give the book report she has already prepared.

If you don’t feel it is appropriate to present it in class, please allow her to come to you during lunch or after school, and present it to you without any other students present.

I suggest that, in future, if you don’t mean “read any book you choose” that you shouldn’t say it. “

And with that, he handed me my book back.

And yes, I did stand in front of that teacher (during lunch) and told her all about the novel I had read, including detailed descriptions of sexual slavery, female domination, male anatomy, all with a trashy romance novel ending. Mrs. Barlow turned every shade of red you can imagine, but she listened to my report, and in the end, I got an A on it.

And yes, for my next book report, Mrs. Barlow told me I must get my book approved prior to reading it. I chose a book called “The Micronauts,” which was much more appropriate for a 14 year old girl. It was the book of the month with Scholastic, and had just been published. Mrs. Barlow was happy with this book choice.

To this day, I remember having a dad who was proud of me for being a good reader, who didn’t scold me for making a naive mistake, and who stood up to a teacher for me. I felt so empowered.

I also used that experience to realize that choosing what you read is an important decision, that not every book is worthy of my time, and that I alone make the decisions of what I should read. I also learned to never ask that friend to loan me another book.

In a time long before the internet, a simple card catalog and the Dewey Decimal System led me to the wonders of imagination and the universe. They sparked ideas I never would have considered otherwise. They let me see both sides of an argument, and make my own decision. They helped me find facts when others spouted statistics they didn’t source or verify. Reading not only taught me to use my imagination, but also to think critically about what others said and wrote as fact.

And to think – it all started in Mrs. Radar’s class, with We Look and See.

I looked. I saw. I read. I live.