Raising Readers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Raise a Reader

While surfing the net, I came across an article that was entitled “Flash mobs invade parks with books”. What does it mean? Do people go to parks and start reading out loud? Does anyone listen to them? Are they interested? In fact, these spontaneous gatherings catch mostly the attention of children.

The first idea that came to my mind when I started thinking if this was possible here, in Argentina, was a stereotyped one. Probably some people would misbehave, tear the pages when nobody is seeing them, and even take the books home without permission. In other words, they’d steal them. However, as I continued my reading of the article, I realized that the program in charge of those street gatherings actually gives the book as a present. Would this work here?

“Kids these days don’t read enough. They definitely don’t go out enough. They don’t play enough either.” But for the mentioning of the actual place this type of flash mob takes place (and the language it is written in), I would have believed that quotation belonged to someone from Argentina, or even to me. I think that it is necessary to give books, but also to teach how to read them so as to develop our kids’ imagination from the early stages of their life. In addition, it is compulsory to teach how to take care of books, even if they were a gift and have cost nothing.

 

One of the promoters of these events believes that a good part of building a life in a new country comes through books and reading. I would make a further statement and say that it is a good part of building a Life, in any country you are, whether it is your own or not. I can say that your mind broadens when you read a book. Sometimes because it is a great piece of art; some other times because it was not what you expected, and you become aware of that. Nevertheless, I must say that this type of claims is only valid when you are an avid reader, and this can happen when you raise children as readers. It can also happen as an adult, and your reading skills are not developed yet.

Here is the link if you want to pay a look at the article:

 http://www.vancouversun.com/life/Raise+Reader+Flash+mobs+invade+parks+with+books/8930303/story.html

 

 

     

 

 

 

Music in the Universe

 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Us-TVg40ExM

                                    Someone to Stand by You

Music is universal. And only a few songs can convey such a message as Stand by Me does. I particularly liked this version of the song (although I only knew the one by Ben King, which is said to have been adapted from gospel) made by Playing for Change Foundation. I enjoyed the first part in which a black man gives his opinion on the idea of having someone beside you, and I quote: “no matter whom you are, or how much money you’ve got, you are going to need someone to stand by you”. Strong words. And to a certain extent, also sad, in that he claims that invariably we will be in need of someone. However, as the lyrics start, I feel like singing, and having a bit of hope that there must be someone out there, to stand by me.

 There are no rules for feeling. Every one of them feels the music inside, to their own personal rhythm, no matter who they are, or where they come from. They convey something particular according to their origin. They are not famous, even though  they are true artists, just unknown people in the street with their instruments. Violins, tambourines, drums, harmonicas, and a rubboard -which is made with a washboard and played with metal thimbles on the player’s fingers- provide their unique touch. In spite of the excellent editing, the creativity and diversity of people around the world is present in the video. As I previously said, there is a message. The message I’m talking about is the one of hope and brotherhood among peoples of the world. In my opinion, the song embraces the possibility of acceptance between cultures and that there is a connection somewhere, especially through music.

 

Playing for a change around the world

Careless

Small Words

 “‘D’you know what happens when you hurt people?’ Ammu said. ‘When you hurt people, they begin to love you less. That’s what careless words do. They make people love you a little less.’

A cold moth with unusually dense dorsal tufts landed lightly on Rahel’s heart. Where its icy legs touched her, she got goose bumps. Six goose bumps on her careless heart.”

The God of Small Things, A. Roy, P 112

 

 

 

The God of Small things is a story by an Indian female writer that deals with relationships, actions, feelings, attitudes and words in an apparently dysfunctional family. Had those words been uttered by a stranger, they would not have caused such an effect on Rahel’s mind. They came out of her mother’s mouth, and they were so strong that I could actually feel the cold legs of the moth alighting upon the seven-year-old child’s heart.  How many times do we speak such words, without noticing the effect they have on others, and most importantly, on children? What is so shocking about this is that it occurs in an everyday event –leaving a cinema- and no one notices, not even this mother, the extent to which the mind of this little girl is deeply upset.

Feelings are hurt all the time, by people who we care about. Nonetheless, we do not realize that we ourselves do it, although we are familiar with the experience and we wish not to be “less loved”. Anger leads us not to place a filter between what we say and what we feel in those moments, and not measuring the consequences of our words.  Although we wish for this not to happen, there will be times when careless words will slip and go straight to the most sensible spot in the heart of a person. But for what is explained later in the novel, I could not start to understand this mother and her careless words towards her own daughter. A sad childhood being afraid of her father’s mistreatment, towards her mother and herself, shaped her into this cruel mother. I would say  I understand, but not justify.

 

 

 

 

teeny tiny

                                               

The Importance of a Good Attitude

My post this week is related to an event at my daughter’s kinder garden. It was her birthday and we decided, my daughter Julieta and I, it would be a good idea to have a small party at her classroom. Everybody was excited since they were going to get a balloon and eat delicious stuff, a cake included. Among my daughter’s classmates was Bruno, who was really interested in how it was that I had made the palitos salados we brought. He kindly agreed to lend my son his glass, since he was not going to have anything to drink, as he explained that it was actually a cup, not a glass, but it did the job anyway. Another classmate, Genaro, was very excited since it was one of her best friends’ birthday. As he saw us arrive in the classroom, he grabbed a chair and sat right next to Julieta. At his back there was a window open; there were other children playing outside, and one of them, with whom Genaro had a previous argument, peered closely at what we were doing. In that exact moment Genaro had to make a point clear in front of everybody, and he said what the other boy had called him. “He said I was…” and pronounced the worst of the worst four letter words in Spanish you can imagine (in fact it had seven letters). The teacher couldn’t believe her ears and then told him off.

And there she was, a girl with the sweetest big hazel eyes, curly hair and a missing front tooth, which she made me notice with her index. She was also very happy to have a birthday celebration and she told me about her being keen on colour purple. She wanted to make sure she would get a purple balloon, but she was afraid that someone took it before she did. I assured her that she would get one at the end of the school day. Fortunately there was a purple one left in the bag of balloons. I showed it to her and I told her that she must remind me to inflate it, since I would keep it in my pocket. She also asked for a balloon for her brother, since he was at the classroom next door. It was indeed what happened then, and she seemed very grateful for that.

The following day she arrived at the kinder garden with her mum. When she saw me she said to her mother: “she is the one. She is my friend.”

Every time he sees me she calls me out: “friend!” and she gives me a hug. I’m proud to say that with a teeny tiny attitude I have a new friend now, Azul, at least in this stage of her life.