A Reader is Born

I was never a reader until Grade 7. I didn’t have the attention span until then, preferring to be out and about, running, playing, riding my bike. I suppose I may have always been young for my age. It’s not that I had never read; I did, but the books were largely short, children’s books, the ones a couple steps above picture books, books where anthropomorphic animals were the main characters. Each story was no longer than a couple pages, at most. They actually put me in “special” reading class before I was held back, where the text was largely “see Jack, see Jack run.” Keep in mind I was a December baby, and a year younger than others when I began school. As you can imagine, special reading class was a real boost to my self-esteem. Only dummies were enrolled in special reading class, that’s the way we kids looked at it. It was only for one year though, my first year in Grade 2. Once I was held back, that extra year of development meant that I could concentrate more, absorb more, and make those cognitive leaps required to transform those symbols on the page into words and sentences and finally into thoughts and images in my head. I went from a struggling student to a high B student, and remained that way until post-secondary where I continued to improve. Still, regardless my huge improvement as a student after being held back, special reading class may have put me off reading.

Everything changed in Grade 7. My mother had always read, and now my friends read, too. And who does’t want to fit in with their friends? I had a book report to do, and I chose Arthur C. Clark’s 1952 science fiction novel “Islands in the Sky” from the library after much deliberation. I had grown up watching Star Trek, so when I saw the cover, I thought I might like it. There was a man in a space suit (a suit without individual legs) floating in space above the Earth, a ‘50s style rocket, and a space station similar to the one in 2001 behind him. Luckily, it was one of his earlier works, and a juvenile novel, so it wasn’t outside what I’d be able to handle for a first novel to read. I ate it up, surprised by how completely I was captivated by the story. More books followed, this time without the requirement of a book report. And then books into the summer, nothing too taxing, yet, the first few like “Alien,” adapted from the screenplay, and a few other horror and sci-fi.

I’ve read ever since.