Mrs+B's+Friendly+Letter

Dear Grade 6 Humanities Students,

Reading and writing have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Now that I am a parent of two young children, I find it a treat to rediscover Judy Blume with my daughter and go on adventures with Captain Underpants with my son. There is nothing more delicious than hearing my kids laugh out loud when we read together. My kids have their own journals, and they love making up their own stories, just like me.

One of my first memories of learning to read is from kindergarten. I adored my teacher—she always took us on so many adventures in the classroom. Once we paraded through the school as the “letter people” in honor of learning the alphabet. My mother wrapped me in paper and taped garbage and odds-and-ends to me, as I was the letter “J” for “junk”. Reading always came naturally to me, and I am told that as a child I always had my nose in a book. As a teen, I devoured adolescent-focused stories about crushes, cliques, and the challenges most teenagers face. I used to hunker down under the covers at camp with a flashlight, staying up past “lights out”. My bunkmates and I would read aloud hilarious passages, love scenes, and anything we thought was cool. The book Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret by Judy Blume captured our attention for at least one session of camp that summer. My least favorite reading experience was in high school. We read Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales. It was a difficult read and the teacher did little to bring it to life. My senior teacher literally left me on the road to Canterbury without a map, compass, or inspiration. I didn’t grow to love Chaucer until he reentered my life as a college student. By then, I had the skills, maturity, and professor to really attack the material and appreciate its art, humor, and magic. As an adult, I read a wide variety of books. I almost always have a few books going at the same time, and my nightstand seems to pile up rather quickly. There are just so many books and so little time!

Writing does not come as easy to me as reading. It requires great thought, practice, and many revision sessions. It took me many years to write from the heart and write what is real for me. As a 3rd grader I can remember having my first diary, a “Hello Kitty” bound journal, complete with a lock and bookmark. I had a friend named Stephanie who lived down the street from me. We would write about boys, our likes, our dislikes, school, and more. We stuck puffy stickers on the pages for decorative accents and wrote silly poems about kids we knew. What stands out more in my mind is the giggles that went along with each entry. I must have that diary somewhere at home—I just hope my kids don’t find it and make fun of me! Another memory is related to handwriting. Third grade must have been a pivotal year for writing and language in my education, as I recall Mrs. McKay, my 3rd grade teacher standing up at the board with her perfect handwriting, teaching us how to write in cursive. Of course, being a lefty made everything more difficult for me. I always had my paper tilted in the wrong direction, which in turn made all my letters slanted in the wrong direction. Mrs. McKay was a righty, so I was trying to emulate her, but it wasn’t working for me, obviously. When I arrived at college at The Ohio State University, I was floored to find lefty desks on the ends of each row—I could finally be comfortable and have my paper tilted the right way without even trying. Back in high school, many of my papers came back with red ink and lackluster grades. In those days, teachers did not use rubrics, so I had no clue what my grade represented about my ability as a writer. As a college student, my roommate introduced me to the MAC lab on campus. She couldn’t believe I was writing out my essays by hand. I quickly shelved my top-of-the-line Smith-Corona typewriter, which had a built-in word processing screen of up to 4 lines and a correction tape. I still have not given up the prewriting process with pen and paper. There is something about making bubbles and lists on a notepad that really works for me. Currently, I participate in a writing group. We share pieces of our writing, offer feedback, and help each other along the creative journey. I am working on a young adult novel about summer camp. I really appreciate the feedback and support that I gain from participating in a writing community.

Reading is an adventure and something to be enjoyed. It makes us part of a community, a nation, and a world. Books give us something in common. Shared reading experiences connect us as humans. Someone in Pakistan might be reading the last installment of Harry Potter, and someone in Albany, NY is reading it too. The lives and problems of the characters play out on the page for us to examine. We can hold up the lives of characters in books to our own, giving us a window into ourselves and the world. Similarly, writing allows us to pour out our hearts and souls. As an art form it moves us, persuades us, makes us think, and helps us discover ourselves and the world in which we live. It is a powerful medium that can be harnessed through practice and encouragement. I hope you all discover your own reading and writing lives and the joy it can bring.

Truly yours, Mrs. Blattner