The Best Reading Curriculum. Ever.

Posted by Suzanne | 0 comments

Interested, aren’t ya? Once again, I don’t have it all figured out. And I’m sure my view will change and I’ll be eating these sweet words before too long, but for now, I really feel like I should share this with you. I know I sure could’ve used this a couple years ago.

My oldest is in second grade and has now read, on his own, silently, a children’s storybook Bible and is several chapters into Pirates Past Noon. I’m telling you this not to brag on myself. Him, maybe. But me, definitely not. And I most assuredly am not telling you this to discourage you. A year ago I would’ve read a paragraph like this and questioned myself and my abilities as a teacher to no end. I would’ve walked away frustrated and at a loss. But the story doesn’t end with his inexplicable success. I want to give you the behind-the-scenes scoop that I hope will help you.

Let’s go back. Before I pulled him out of public school. Before I even put him into school. I had originally planned on homeschooling. I had asked around about curriculum and methods. Not like some of you amazing people that researched to no end – I’m too much of a slacker. I hear something and think, “Huh. That sounds good. I’ll try it.” Really. I wish it weren’t true. But, alas. So, of course I heard about Teach Your Child To Read In 100 Easy Lessons. It worked for a friend of mine. It worked for two of my nieces. It had rave reviews and made sense to me. I bought it and jumped in head-first the first month we brought our very young kindergartener home from school. I figured his reluctance (read: screaming, crying, fit-throwing and flat-out refusal) was more about his determination (read: hard-headedness). So when I picked the “school” battle and he put up his dukes, then by golly, I had to win. Right? And we forced, threatened with public school, spanked, took away privileges, made sticker charts, offered incentives, praised out the wazoo. All to no avail. When I pulled out that book – it was on. So, I figured it was the curriculum’s fault. This was not for my child. It was great for others, but just not this child. Top this with an unhealthy helping of comparison to one of his same-age friends who could read Junie B. the first half of first grade and we were well on our way to failure. I wanted to know what they were using with her (a child who is excelling in public school – oh, the doubts). Hooked On Phonics. Why, of course! That’s it! It’s bright, it’s colorful, it’s got cute pictures and little books. He’ll love it! It’ll make all the difference! And, look, it worked for our friend and it gets rave reviews!

And yet. This didn’t go as planned either. Sl-o-w-ly we worked our way up the sticker chart. He was proud when he finished a little book, but that repetition. Oh, the repetition. Got. Us. No. Where. More crying. What on earth?

His handwriting was also atrocious. Yeah, I said it. And I’ll say it again. Horrible.
I saw other kids his age and cringed. So I started thinking maybe it wasn’t the curriculum’s failure. Just maybe it wasn’t my failure either. Just maybe it was dyslexia. I started looking into it. Everything applied, but nobody wanted to really suggest anything or even make it official until they turn 7. And my husband (wise, wise, man) said to slow down, don’t take him to anybody. Don’t label him with something he’ll have over him forever.

I let go. I quit. All reading and handwriting curriculum. Not really on anybody’s suggestion, for once. I just got fed up with the fights. And the crying. I quit asking him to read for me. I quit asking him to do copywork. Even the simplest of copying. I quit judging his mistakes. Remember my epiphany of lettin’ ‘em be?

At Christmas time last year (a full 2 months into my hands-off approach) he picked up a baby board book and stumbled his way through the entire thing working his hardest at each “the” and “at” for the whole family to hear. And I cried with relief and pride. And still refused to have him read for me or write anything. Again, not because I was wise in any way, just because I was tired.

And then we discovered lapbooking and started some small unit studies. (See? I’ve brought y’all along for most of my whole experience. Riveting, huh?) And he wanted to write the words in his very own lapbooks. What?! And slowly he was reading the lapbook components that were his favorites.

And then I got an amazing email in my inbox one day recently from this website and about fell out of my seat. I read it to my husband and he even nodded in agreement. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still lazy and haven’t researched it very much, but I did take away from it that what I had done instinctively is what the “professionals” suggest.

So I did what worked. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And one day we woke up and he was reading his Bible. His idea. And when he announced that he finished it we called grandparents and jumped up and down.

And then I continued to do nothing. And it’s still working. As he’s now in chapter 5 of his first real chapter book. And he tells me about what’s going on (can you say “comprehension”?) with excitement.

Does he have a “learning gate” block? I don’t know. He still writes the “J” at the beginning of his own name backwards a lot of the time. Does he have dyslexia? I don’t know. Did I hurt him by forcing a great curriculum that didn’t work at all for him? Maybe. Are 100 Easy Lessons and Hooked On Phonics good curricula? Sure. I still use some of it for my other 2 kiddos. Do I have regrets about those first 2 years? Absolutely. And so with that regret and guilt here I am. Telling you. That it’s not all about winning the battle. That it’s not all about who’s will is the strongest. That it’s not all about what curriculum you use or don’t use. But it is all about your child. And the journey. And the big picture of being with them and learning along the way and relaxing. RELAX. Really. I give you permission. Right now, try it. Be still. And know that even when you have no idea what you’re doing He is still God.

After all, the question that’s really at the heart of your worry about your child reading is “Can I do this?” And my question for you is “Can you read?” Really. Can you? Then just teach what you know. C next to H says “Ch”. E+R says “er”. “B” says “buh”, “B” says “buh” Every letter makes a sound “B” says “buh”.

So, can you read? Then you can teach your child to read. Really.

Suzanne is wife to one and mama to four. The little ones are 2 boys ages 7 and 5, a girl who’s 3, and a toddlin’ boy who’s not knee-high to a grasshopper yet. She eclecticly unschools with lapbooks the Charlotte Mason way. In other words, she doesn’t have the slightest clue what she’s doing, but does it anyway. She lives in a world where there are few absolutes. The dishes don’t stay cleaned, the laundry doesn’t stay put away, the children don’t remember what she told them yesterday. But in their chaotic lives they have found joy. And they’d love to share that with you. So, come on over, kick a path through the toys, have a seat on the couch and grab a cup of strong coffee. Just be ready to hone your skills of “interrupted conversation”! And be sure to stop by her personal blog at JoyfulChaos.