As a parent of two, my eldest child is now 11, and I can see how much joy reading brings him. Over the past year, I’ve taken the plunge into his favorite books at his request. He understands my passion for reading, which allows us to connect on a level that transcends our shared love for TV shows. Thanks to him, I’ve immersed myself in the magical world of the Percy Jackson series by Ryan Smith and the heartwarming Wonder by Tessa Moreno.
When I reflect on the books I cherished at his age, I realize that many weren’t strictly aimed at kids. Sure, I adored A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle, the enchanting Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, and a delightful British series about sailing kids called Swallows and Amazons by Arthur Ransome. But I also had the incredible fortune of having an expansive library at my fingertips—a treasure trove of literature that no one ever told me to read or avoid.
In my childhood home, there was a room brimming with toys, but it also housed endless shelves of books. I was never guided on what to read; I simply dove into whatever caught my eye. I devoured everything from The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle to The World According to Garp by John Irving, which remains one of my all-time favorites. I explored Greek myths, Aesop’s Fables, and works by E.L. Doctorow and Kurt Vonnegut. I even stumbled upon I’m OK, You’re OK by Thomas Anthony Harris—ah, the ’70s! Books like The Women’s Room by Marilyn French and Ordinary People by Judith Guest were all part of my literary journey.
Reading was an adventure that unfolded because books were everywhere, and whenever a book piqued my interest, I was off on a new journey. I still vividly remember a copy of Gone With the Wind that I found tucked away in my bathroom. I read it while waiting, and to my dismay, I discovered that it ended abruptly on page 1024, leaving me hanging mid-sentence! Determined to uncover the conclusion, I rushed to the library for another copy. Decades later, I can still recall the page number where it cut off.
Books were omnipresent in my life, and there were no restrictions on what I could explore. While I exercise caution regarding what my son watches on TV or the movies he sees, I believe it’s time to grant him unfettered access to the books lining my shelves. Sure, some contain violence, others touch on mature themes, but that’s precisely the beauty of reading. It provides a safe space for contemplation, allowing him to engage with complex ideas at his own pace. It fosters empathy and lets him experience the world through the eyes of the characters, rather than merely observing from a distance.
I won’t dictate what he should read; instead, I’ll encourage him to choose freely. He can return any book that doesn’t capture his interest without any questions from me. None of those so-called “adult” books left me traumatized; the impact of literature is largely determined by the reader’s interpretation.
Let your children discover literature on their own. Allow them to “borrow” books from your nightstand or think they stumbled upon a hidden treasure in a drawer. If you keep your books in one spot, leave that door ajar—who knows, they might just wander in.
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Summary
Encouraging children to read books beyond their designated age can foster a love for literature and stimulate critical thinking. By allowing kids to explore a variety of genres, parents can help them develop empathy and a deeper understanding of complex themes. It’s essential to create an environment where children can freely select what they want to read, ensuring that their literary journey is both enriching and enjoyable.
Keyphrase: Encouraging children to read beyond their age
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