My mom, a former first grade teacher, passed along this very useful phrase as I started babysitting and counseling at day camps where children would proudly present their latest masterpieces that were often hard to recognize.  I’d learned the hard way that exclaiming “oh, what a wonderful elephant” when the child had, in fact, drawn his grandmother’s new kitten, could result in downcast eyes or words of understandable indignation.  Simply saying “tell me about your picture” not only avoided such blunders, but it often did something powerful in terms of literacy development as well.  It invited children to clarify—and often expand upon—the messages they intended to convey with their drawings. 

Later, in graduate school, a professor once remarked that literacy is really all about conveying meaning and making meaning, expressing ideas and understanding ideas.  This stuck with me, and still rings true from my perspective.  For children, particularly those who are not yet writing, or who struggle to get words on paper, using drawings or other forms of graphic representation is an essential springboard for communicating thoughts and ideas that may be more complex than what they are currently able to capture in sentences and paragraphs.  Asking a child to tell you about the drawing of his family standing in front of a tent can launch into a full-blown account of last summer’s camping trip, and better yet, prompt the child to revisit the picture and incorporate even more visual details.  Revising and refining, just like an author with a piece of text.

In addition to expressing their thoughts or showing what they know, children can use drawing to build and refine their understanding of new concepts and ideas.  In the same way scientists identify trends and patterns from written observations, children can, as educational researcher Margaret Brooks puts it, “draw to learn,” and create pictures to record the life cycle of a butterfly.  Creating and sharing these graphic logs with others allows children to develop oral language and deepen their conceptual understandings as they explain and compare what they noticed.

So whether it’s recording scientific observations or drawing a rocket ship headed to the moon, enjoy listening as your child responds to “tell me about your picture.”

Pop culture gets a bad rap.  While you don’t have to look far to see its dark side, this blog is about the opportunities it affords—golden opportunities that will pass us by if we simply ignore the fact that, more than ever, children are coming of age in a culture saturated with media and technology that we can either deny, or help our children use to their advantage.    While we are all familiar with the downsides of media and pop culture in excess, or in forms that conflict with our personal values, we have a responsibility to recognize the potential they have to foster positive social interactions, develop personal identity, promote language development, expand one’s repertoire of experiences, and increase engagement in learning.

Findings from a series of research studies outlined in a report from the Literacy Research Centre at the University of Sheffield suggest that in many homes, children are living lives balanced with a broad range of activities, including time spent with elements of popular culture through various forms of media and technology.  Parents report that this is time often spent in a social atmosphere, with family members in shared living spaces.   In addition, parents point out that many times what their children are watching, playing, or discussing afterwards with friends is broadening their cultural awareness and respect for all, helping them discern right from wrong, and deepening their understanding of how to live and cooperate with other people.  After all, as my niece could tell you, the Harry Potter series simply reminds us that you can’t judge a book by its cover, everyone deserves a second chance, and friendships are to be cherished.  

The Literacy Research Centre report goes on to describe how popular culture can contribute to a child’s identity development as well.  Inspired by a favorite program, film, or video game, children may “try on” different roles that may mirror their natural characteristics, or give them opportunities to explore brand new personalities.   I know I spent hours pretending I was Laura Ingalls Wilder, or Sandy from the movie Grease.  I imagine you have a similar story, and I’m guessing your child does too.  What’s more, in the midst of the watching, playing, and pretending, children are extending their vocabularies and oral language, learning what makes a good story, and discovering places, people, and phenomenon that they may not encounter in their daily lives.  

And finally, we wouldn’t want to overlook the fact that building on children’s connections with popular characters or stories can heighten their motivation to learn.   The Literacy Research Centre reports that teachers who incorporated aspects of popular texts into their curriculum noticed that their students had higher levels of engagement in learning. 

So while it may be easier to say that pop culture is all good or all bad, perhaps like most other things in life, it comes down to balance, making thoughtful choices, and helping our children navigate the many opportunities they encounter.  Have you noticed your own children learning through their encounters with pop culture?  If so, pass along your stories.

Just last week I was inspired when a friend described how his 3 year old son spontaneously requests stories for which he—the 3-year old—provides the key elements.  For example, my friend’s son might ask to hear the story of the penguin king who saved his kingdom from melting.  Mind you, my friend has never heard a story with these particular elements, yet his son’s confident anticipation prompts him to weave a fitting tale.   

I was so thrilled to think about a young child coming up with such interesting seeds for a story, that I found myself informally researching the craft of oral storytelling.  What a treat to imagine children taking part in the creation of a story that not only requires the listener to conjure up his own images, but also feeds on the relationship between child and storyteller.  In fact, according to Barry McWilliams’ online manual on effective storytelling, the interaction between the teller and the listener is what makes a story come to life, and an effective storyteller always considers the interests and natural affinities of the listening audience. 

My newfound interest led me to a number of websites containing some overlapping guidelines for oral storytelling with young children—thought I’d pass them along:

1. Tell a story you’ll truly enjoy.  If your child wants to get you started (like my friend’s son) great, but if you’re on your own, tell a story from your childhood, from a picture book, or from a favorite movie or folktale—and feel free to modify!
2. Set the mood.  Be sure you’re in a place where you can avoid interruptions or extra noise
3. Keep it simple.  Stick to a single theme that you can clearly develop. 
4. Be vivid.  Offer descriptions that will help your audience see, hear, feel, taste, and even smell what’s happening.
5. Connect with your audience.  Many young children will be drawn to stories with animals or young heroes with whom they easily sympathize.   See Wendy Welch’s site for more tips.
6. Be animated and enthusiastic.  Use your facial expressions, tone of voice, and gestures to help tell the story and distinguish among characters and events.
7. Apply tricks of the trade.  Use strategic pauses, exaggeration, and repetition to build anticipation and create suspense.
8. Relax and be yourself.  Look at the audience as you tell the story.  If you’re a bit shy, have a doll, stuffed animal, or puppet that “tells” the story.  
9. When you’re done, stop.  Resist the urge to explain the story or point out the moral.  Let the child do some thinking and interpreting on her own.

With my interest piqued, I would love to hear from those of you who tell stories to children.  What works?  And I’d love to hear from anyone who is just giving it a try.  How is it going? 

I can still smell my elementary school library.  It’s not a bad thing.  On the contrary, the scent of pages and print and protective plastic covers, triggers memories of perusing the wall and a half of hard-back fiction titles.  One day in fourth grade, I came across "The Ghost Next Door" by Wylly Folk St. John and Trina Schart Hyman, about the ghost of a girl who drowned in a pond and appears to communicate with the main character.  I ate it up.  And many years later, when my own fourth grade students would ask me about my favorite books as a child, it always topped the list. 

So when The Learning Team at LeapFrog was asked to blog about a favorite childhood book, it surprised me when I hesitated to write about this obscure title.  For some reason, I felt obliged to identify more familiar favorites — "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," or any number of "Nancy Drew" or "Encyclopedia Brown" books I also loved.  But the truth is, for me, "The Ghost Next Door" was in a class by itself.   For one thing, the female characters were strong, smart girls who valued friendship, and were true to life—not perfect super-women-in-the-making or over-the-top smarty pants.  And for another, the story was wrapped around a compelling mystery, with an element of the supernatural.  In fact, this book most clearly reflects the type of reading I enjoy to this day, and I’m fortunate to have met my literary match (well, one of them) at a relatively young age.   In a way, it’s a testament to the value in exposing children to many types of genres early on.

The best part of this blog “assignment” is that it gave me an opportunity to find some kindred spirits on Amazon.com, with thirteen reviews by people like me, who fell in love with this book as a child and never forgot it.  Of course, I couldn’t help myself from ordering a used copy (it’s out of print—publishers, take note), and wouldn’t you know, it’s a paperback copy from a library in my own county.  So I look forward to stealing a little time this week-end to visit an old friend.  I have a hunch I won’t be disappointed.  

So what’s your favorite childhood book?  The fun part is considering why it tops your list. 

As a researcher, I used standardized tests of reading comprehension to assess hundreds of children, ages 5 to 12.  Countless times, children were able to read a passage with flawless accuracy, at an appropriate pace, yet were unable to answer the accompanying comprehension questions.  In the field of literacy research, the Simple View of Reading suggests that a child’s ability to comprehend a text is based on his decoding skills (his ability to decipher printed words) and his language comprehension skills (Gough and Tunmer, 1986).  The children described above had strong decoding skills—they could “read” all of the words on the page—however, they were unable to make sense of the text to successfully answer comprehension questions.  And perhaps they struggled to understand the questions themselves. 

For children like these, the decoding part of reading—what we might call the ABCs—is a snap.  It’s the thinking and understanding part that’s more of a challenge.  While good readers need a solid understanding of letters and the sounds they make in order to figure out words as they are printed on the page, they also need the ability to draw conclusions, consider the source, recognize the most important ideas, and “read between the lines.”   Not everything a reader is meant to take away from a text can be decoded. 

In today’s world, the term “text” can refer to anything we use to send or receive some meaning or message, including books, films, photos, even conversations.  So, it’s especially important for children to understand texts they may not need to decode, but still need to interpret, or even create on their own.  More than ever, children need to develop “visual literacy” in order to understand meanings and messages embedded in visual images that show up in websites, multimedia presentations, illustrated manuals, and interactive maps or diagrams.  In fact, before they can decode printed text, children can learn to interpret visual information in illustrations or simple charts, and even create their own visual texts.  While the ABCs, or decoding skills, remain a critical part of learning to read, it is equally important to help children develop the observational and critical thinking skills required to fully comprehend a text, be it verbal or visual or both. 

Let me guess, the mention of Hugh Jackman made you click—am I right? Last week, the actor announced that he would donate $100,000 to the favorite charity of the person who submits the winning tweet to his profile @RealHughJackman. As many of you know, Twitter is a free social-networking service wherein users post text-based messages (tweets) no longer than 140 characters—that’s characters, not words—onto their profile pages to share with other users (followers) who have subscribed to them.

So what does Twitter have to do with learning to write? Isn’t tweeting just the sort of abbreviated, flimsy writing we want our children to avoid for fear that it will compromise their ability to compose a complete sentence or a well-structured essay? Maybe not. And Hugh Jackman’s contest offers a perfect opportunity to consider how one of our newer genres must still adhere to the convention that form follows function and audience. That is, the genre or format for writing (a 140-character tweet) must serve the writer’s ultimate goal (earning $100,000 and increased awareness for a favorite charity), and appeal to the intended audience (presumably, Hugh Jackman).

Perhaps some concerns about the newest forms of multi-media communication are more legitimate than others. For instance:

-The audience on twitter or MySpace is so broad that putting a foot in your mouth reaches daunting proportions.

-Today’s teens have been spotted sitting side-by-side, texting each other, and missing the opportunity to speak face-to-face.

On the other hand, it’s debatable whether engaging in less formal types of multi-media communication necessarily hinders a child’s ability to learn more standard forms of writing. Who’s to say that children can’t learn how the cornerstones of good writing—developing a well-supported argument and using clear, concise language—enhance any form of written communication? And isn’t it possible that children can learn to recognize when one form of communication will serve a particular goal and audience more effectively than another? Many researchers claim that individuals learning one language can a) gain skills and knowledge that benefit the acquisition of another language, and b) discern when to use a particular language or dialect, depending on the situation and the setting. Additional studies suggest that engaging in less formal forms of written communication, such as blogs, can increase an awareness of audience, provide opportunities for immediate feedback, and help ease writing anxiety—factors linked to successful academic writing. This work suggests that we would be wise to help children develop fluency in a range of writing genres—simultaneously—so they are prepared to write the formal essay that gets them into college and compose the 140-character tweet that earns $100,000 from Hugh Jackman.

I’ll come clean immediately, I’m not a parent.  While I’m an aunt and a former teacher, I’ve never directly “raised a reader.”  Plus, I love to read.  All the same, this question piques my interest.  I used to have my student teachers consider a different version:  Can you motivate students to read if you’re not a big reader yourself?

So why ask these sorts of questions?  What’s so great about being a reader anyway?  And by “reader” I’m referring to someone who chooses to read for fun.  Perhaps it’s the widespread perception—supported by research—that children who take to reading early on are more likely to make it a pleasurable habit throughout their lives and experience later success in reading and writing, with a broader vocabulary and deeper knowledge about people and the world.  Research also confirms that children growing up with adults who read for pleasure naturally view reading as a fun, worthwhile way to spend time.

If you want to raise a reader, but do not read for fun yourself, take heart.  There are two key ways to foster a love of reading in your child—and possibly inspire your own interests as well.

First and foremost, build on your child’s passions, questions, and preferences.  Many studies show that personal motivations to read are the most lasting.  Even the most active child can get lost in a book—or a website, or a comic book (yes, this counts).  For some, it takes more effort to identify the most compelling topics or most engaging genres, but you’re not alone.  While children’s librarians and bookstore owners may be your most knowledgeable allies, there are online resources as well, including the Children’s Choice Booklists published each year by the International Reading Association.

And second, make reading a social experience.  Once again, research suggests that children who choose to read for pleasure see themselves as part of a community with other readers—discussing what they’re reading, making recommendations, even debating the value of an author’s intended message.  This can start with a chat over something you’ve read aloud with your child (older children benefit from read aloud experiences just as much as the younger ones).  And if other readers are not at home, you can seek out book clubs in local libraries or book stores, or encourage your child to connect less formally with friends or cousins after school or via email.

Ultimately, we know that children raised by other “readers” are more inclined to read for fun themselves, nevertheless there are ways you can foster a love of reading in your child, even if you don’t feel the love yourself…yet.

I fell in love with words at a young age. Early on, I learned that words have the power to amuse and entertain. I remember delighting in my first Mrs. Piggle Wiggle book, publishing my first picture book in third grade called "The Magic Coin," and passing the time with a friend on an old, lethargic chairlift, tweaking the lyrics to Paul Simon’s "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" to create "50 Ways to Ski at Alpine." Playing with words can be fun, and I had plenty of experiences to prove it.

Eventually, I began to realize that in addition to having the power to amuse, words have the power to connect, express, and inform. I understood the link between words and connecting with others as I exchanged regular letters with my cousin in Iowa, and spent countless hours chatting with friends over mint chip ice cream after school. I recognized how words offered a means of self-expression as I filled the pages of my red faux-leather diary, and listened to James Taylor over and over again on my record player. I appreciated the information and knowledge I gleaned from the words that filled my "Encyclopedia of Dogs," and even my Dodge Charger owner’s manual. Words had a lot to offer, and I was becoming a big fan.

My love affair with words followed me into adulthood. As an elementary school teacher, I enjoyed reading children’s words—from book reviews of "Redwall" to detailed reports on the California Gold Rush. I reveled in the moments I caught my students engrossed in a "Time for Kids" article on NASA, or systematically working their way through the "Babysitters Club" series. Later, as a reading professor, I was inspired by student teachers who introduced Literature Circles into traditional classrooms, and seasoned teachers who infused curricular materials with authentic literacy experiences. 

Now, as the literacy learning designer at LeapFrog I have the opportunity to help children develop a lasting friendship with words. After all, whether kids want to connect with their friends, express themselves, or learn more about their latest passion, words are part of the fun!