Back in September 2010, the Wall Street Journal (WSJ) sent cyberspace into a tizzy with the article How to Raise Boys who Read. Hint: It’s not with gross-out books and video game bribes.
I don’t think the article is really that controversial. The writer, Thomas Spence, rants a little about Captain Underpants and the ubiquitousness of boogers and other bodily fluids in recent books aimed at boy readers. But the important part of his (okay, slightly old fashioned ‘pro-classical education’ flavored) message seems to be for parents to raise readers by turning off electronics and (*shocker*) having a lot of interesting books around.
But the cybernetic furor among parents was palpable. The Scholastic blogging team at On-Our Minds (OOM) posted an also very reasonable response to the WSJ essay entitled Boys Should be Allowed to Read Books They Choose. The Facebook posting of this article garnered 70+ comments within an hour or two – most of them to the tune of “Fart and poop jokes saved my son from a life of illiteracy — God Bless Captain Underpants.” (Okay, not exactly that, but something along those lines.)
The problem I have with both essays is as follows – neither challenges the assumption that there is something called a “boy book” and a “girl book.” Call me an idealist (or just a mother of both a boy and a girl), but I think girls – if given the opportunity – like a good fart joke as much as the next XY chromosome. And my big reader boy can’t get enough of ‘girl’ titles like the Betsy-Tacey books, the teensy-bit racist Little House series (as I blather about here), and lots of series that happen to have girl protagonists like Judy Moody, Ramona Quimby, and that annoying Junie B. Jones (boy, am I glad that phase is over). Of course, he also gobbles up Harry Potter, Septimus Heap, and Percy Jackson with just as much alacrity.
What’s the big deal, y’all? Are we really that ridiculous?
Because, the other day, we went to a nine-year-old boy’s house, where there happened to be a lot of Ramona Quimby covers in plain sight. To be friendly, I asked him, “Oh, do you like the Ramona books?” (thinking he and my son could talk about them). The boy (who doesn’t have a sister to blame) looks abashed – like he’d been caught in some criminal activity, and shook his head. Then his dad smoothly stepped in, saying “Oh, he loves the Diary of a Wimpy Kid and (yeah, you guessed it) Captain Underpants books.”
Say what? Are we so fixed on boy books and girl books nowadays that big tough dads of schoolboys are ashamed if their sons read a little Beverly Cleary? What, are books with girl heroines too woosy to read or something? Because I clearly missed that parenting memo.
My son and I love the Franny K. Stein books – a girl who doesn’t want to be a ballerina or a princess but a mad scientist with spiders and bats and zombies and stuff. How cool is that? I’m planning on handing my six-year-old daughter the whole set when she gets up to reading them.
And right now, I’m writing a YA fantasy with a lot of boogers. And a princess. Who gets covered in boogers. In fact, I’d like to see more books about, say, farting butterfly fairies or zombie mermaids who fight evil (hm… evil fighting zombie mermaids…let me make a note of that idea).
And let me tell you, my potty-joke and tri-wizard tournament loving son also loved it when Almonzo and Laura courted. Loved it. Big f-n deal, people.
I think the most important lesson I learned from following this cybernetic controversy was that shared by a fellow comment poster on the OOM site. This poster brought the WSJ article to task for failing to recommend what I think is the one of the strongest predictors of raising book-loving boys and girls – which is for families to enjoy books together. (In fact, a while ago, I called for a nationwide reading streak where parents and kids read together at least 10 minutes a day. There were, like crickets chirping in cyberspace after that one…)
I don’t think that we have to get our boys to wear cravats while they read, nor do I think we should limit them to doo-doo based literature because of some false fear of de-masculinizing them. Nor should our daughters only hold that bratty Pinkalicious or the fabulous yet uber-feminine Fancy Nancy as their only role models.
Boys like romance. Girls like boogers.
Let’s stop segregating their books, already.
(Oh, and turn off the TV, take away their video games, and read together as a family while we’re at it.)
End of rant. Bow, bow. Clap, clap.
Originally posted at Sayantani’s blog Stories are Good Medicine. Cross-posted with permission.