This past October, my BFF from the
second grade, Sue Ann McLauchlan Faulkner, forwarded this Do You Remember ? post on
Facebook:
Of course, I do
remember Dick & Jane. Dick
went up the hill. See Dick go up the
hill. Dick came down the hill. See Dick go down the hill. Jane went up the hill . . Dick & Jane
went up the hill . . .see Dick & Jane go down the hill.
Dick & Jane (Dick first, Jane second) are firmly
etched in shared memories of the elementary school education Sue & I
experienced.
In my fifties, I
became obsessed with Dick & Jane when I first became aware of how
elementary & young adult fiction has changed since those days I shared with
Sue at Cabell Elementary.
For a long time, my
perception was that I went from Dick
& Jane to Jane Eyre. Of course, that perception is a memory
morphed into myth.
But none of texts I
read between Dick & Jane & Jane Eyre imprinted themselves into my
text.
There is, of course, a
certain sweet serendipity in a mythic move from one Jane to another.
Sue & I were in
the smart class at Cabell Elementary. In
those days, it was not called accelerated or advanced or gifted & talented
or AP. Just the same group of advanced,
gifted & talented kids promoted together each year.
Our fourth-grade
teacher deemed us incorrigible.
Our reading
comprehensive skills were taught via the SRA (Science Research Associates)
reading program.
Our reading was
tracked by how many levels we successfully mastered. It was not necessarily about how fast we
read, but by how well we comprehended the material.
So we went from Dick & Jane to a competitive program
that took our reading scores levels beyond our grade level.
We were the smart kids.
My grandmother Helen
gave me copies of Jane Eyre &
Wuthering Heights when I was still in elementary school. They were exquisite volumes, illustrated with
detailed etchings. The volumes had been
Helen’s when she was a young girl.
Helen & I had a
complicated relationship. But she was
amazing.
As a child, Helen lost her
hearing. I no longer remember the entire
circumstances, but from the moment I first knew her, she wore a hearing aid. When I was very young, the hearing aid was
attached by wire to a box she tucked inside her bra. Eventually, hearing aid technology advanced & the box & wire disappeared.
o
When Helen was young,
the hearing aid boxes were larger, too large to fit inside a bra. They were worn on the side, like a large,
ugly hanging purse.
After she finished
teacher’s college, Helen taught school.
Wearing that enormous box strapped to her when she stood before her
sixth-grade students.
I think about that
young teacher, so much of her life defined by what she could & could not
hear. About how brave it was to go to college;
how brave it was to stand before her students with her hearing challenges.
Helen gave me a book I
still possess. Copyright: 1919
Still available on Amazon.
The Boys and Girls Readers, Sixth Reader
By Emma Miller Bolenius
In our childhood, I
used to recruit my younger sister & brother to play School. I was, of course, the teacher & they were
the class. If they declined my
invitation, I simply taught imaginary children.
Although I was too
young to understand the To the Teacher section or the book’s six parts &
subsections, possessing the book gave me confidence.
Exploring its contents
now, I am amazed at what sixth graders were expected to read.
Because I remember sixth grade well – & I
do not remember reading Sir Walter Scott, Emerson, Walt Whitman, Ben Johnson, Cervantes,
Ovid, or Tolstoy.
I marvel now at the current wealth of young adult fiction available.
The Higher Power of Lucky – which
I read because it was banned from school libraries – it used the word scrotum
about a dog.
The Girl Who Could Fly, Rules, A Series of
Unfortunate Events, Chasing Vermeer, Wonderstruck, The Book Thief, The Giver,
The Invention of Hugo Cabret, Gaby Lost & Found, Allie First at Last, Me
Frida & the Secret of the Peacock Ring - & wedged between the very adult Foucault & Eagleton’s Literary Theory, my seven volumes of Harry Potter on my shelves
And always, always, A Wrinkle in Time.
When I turned sixty, Sue
Ann McLauchlan Faulkner, the same BFF from second grade who inspired this missive,
created a Raggedy Ann Jaki Jean. Sue is
famous among those lucky enough to wander into her orbit & receive one of her
Raggedy Anns or Andys.
Raggedy Jaki Jean has
red hair & freckles, sparkly blue shoes, lady bugs, a calming jar, a pocket of Smurfs
& a book bag with three books.
Jane Eyre, To the Lighthouse, A Wrinkle in Time
Memory, as I have
mentioned, often morphs into myth.
My sweet friend Sue’s
post about Dick & Jane initiated a time travel. Not by tessering, but by rethinking &
reexamining.
Rethinking my
complicated relationship with my grandmother Helen. Who gave me books. Who gave her only son’s family Reader’s
Digest Condensed Books & Reader Digest Condensed Children’s Books.
Condensed books that
always sent me to the library to read the full version.
I read, not because of
a program from my childhood, but because my parents read, both sets of my
grandparents read. I read because of
libraries.
In a time when book
stores were rare & out of reach, my mother took her children to the
library. I read because library time was
important in the public schools of my childhood.
I read because I
cannot imagine not reading.
And because I am still
waiting for Jane to go up & down the hill without any thoughts about Dick,
all on her own.
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