This is part two of my four part series Becoming a FITT Reader. Be sure to read Volume 1: Frequency here.
Reading is a skill. It's developed over time like our palate. It's like learning to distinguish deep umami flavors or appreciating a fine red wine. Too difficult texts creates non-readers in the same way a person new to sushi might totally scoff at a dragon roll over the more palatable California roll. I, like I'm sure many other people, experienced an English class where the text was too difficult, too long, and too beyond my comprehension. In short: too intense. As a freshman in high school, I faked my way through readings of Great Expectations, and I also remember exclusively reading SparkNotes the time Dr. Cotter assigned the entirety of Dante's Inferno for the next class a mere two days away in undergrad.
Ultimately, intensity in reading comes in four forms: text complexity, length, concept and content.
What It (Sometimes) Looks Like
There are many schools where the reading progression for whole class texts leaves me scratching my head. It might look something like this:
(I know this isn't every district, but many district texts look something akin to this)
Even from 8th grade to 9th grade, that leap is massive. How did we go from The Outsiders to Great Expectations? And the jumps only further baffle. I have my own thoughts on Beloved and As I Lay Dying as books that are too intense and inaccessible for most high school students, so you end up with a good amount of fake reading; but that doesn't stop districts from keeping a curriculum that was establish in the 80s (or earlier).So what are we to do as teachers? Depending in your district, it's not so easy to say, "I'm not teaching The Grapes of Wrath anymore."
Intensity in Complexity
So how did we end up with a progression like the above? A lot of this occurred because of text complexity. As we move through each of these books, the language and ideas that are conveyed evolve.
Let's look at the opening two sentences to see language and complexity in action:
From The Outsiders: "When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two
things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. I was wishing I looked like Paul Newman--- he looks
tough and I don't--- but I guess my own looks aren't so bad."
From Great Expectations: "My father’s family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip."
What do we notice from The Outsiders to Great Expectations? While the allusion in The Outsiders might feel foreign, the concept and language poses little difficulty. Meanwhile in Great Expectations the language feels complex but also the syntax feels almost backwards (Dickens' use of passive voice).
Now let's take a look at The Scarlet Letter: A THRONG of bearded men, in sad-colored garments, and gray, steeple-crowned hats, intermixed with women, some wearing hoods and others bareheaded, was assembled in front of a wooden edifice, the door of which was heavily timbered with oak, and studded with iron spikes. The founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of human virtue and happiness they might originally project, have invariably recognized it among their earliest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery, and another portion as the site of a prison.
The density of ideas in those first sentences needs unpacking. And this speaks nothing of the vocabulary and the need for historical context. Of course, this is why these are common whole class texts, not independent texts. These books require guidance. The goal with understanding intensity is for students to read The Scarlet Letter proficiently without moving at a snail's pace.
Supporting Intensity with Independent Books and Book Clubs
My cousin Vicki is 33 years old, and since quarantine she's started to form that love of reading. But when she came to me about wanting to read, I couldn't just hand her Lincoln in the Bardo or The Overstory and think she's going to get it. There was a real chance that if I passed her the wrong book, it might take another 15 years before she tries again.
If every adult book isn't the same, then why do we treat YA books as if they're under one giant umbrella. Unfortunately, there's no rating system to say that Apple by Eric Gansworth is more complex than Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell. And yet we know this. Is it possible to start pushing YA texts in increasing complexity to students while still allowing more access points than adult fiction?
Imagine if you need 9th graders to start understanding more lyrical language and jumps in time to better understand Great Expectations. What do you do? Hopefully we're not starting with that text in September. This is where your knowledge as a consumer of reading is helpful.
You might scaffold your students through increasingly complex YA texts to start preparing them:
But the increases here are accessible. This is a collection of titles that make sense so that a freshman in September can unpack The Poet X but by November get closer to Shout and by January Every Body Looking. This learning can happen independently or in book clubs. Students can track their reading and understanding and even reflect on the complexity within the text.
Will that mean they're ready for Great Expectations in February? Probably not. But they'll be more equipped, and the bridge between Every Body Looking and Great Expectations isn't that crazy (and in many ways the concepts in Iloh's text surpasses Dickens).
Intensity in Length
We want our students to be pushed by literature. There is so much to experience in the world of reading, but even I can become intimidated by the length of a text. Recently, I put off reading Kristin Hannah's The Four Winds because of the length (450 pages). I wish I did it sooner and I ended up finishing the book in less than 7 days. How? I had a reading plan. Encouraging students to develop reading plans is imperative to their reading success.
One of my favorite books (and a popular choice for independent reading) is Strange the Dreamer. Taylor's text comes in at a staggering 560 pages. It's the kind of book you can see students reading for week after week for the better part of an entire quarter.
When students pick larger texts, I often engage them in a longer discussion about reading goals. While this correlates with my next volume (Time), it's a perfect time to talk to students about the frequency in which they need to read and the time they need to devote. Making two to three week plans with students allows them to move through an otherwise behemoth text with a steadiness that makes them feel confident.
Intensity in Concept and Content
And while language, construction and length all increase difficulty, we cannot forget about concept and content.
Now you might say to yourself, "concept?" Yes. The stream of consciousness of Mrs. Dalloway or how time becomes an enigma in To the Lighthouse is difficult for students to understand. As my students grow, I encourage them to make choices that will push their boundaries.
If my students are interested in AP Literature, I will recommend books that are also conceptually complicated. These books might push the boundaries of time or display elements of magical realism. They're a logical bridge in concept and idea in order to allow access to authors such as Toni Morrison, Virginia Woolf or William Faulkner.
Knowing your students' passion might also help you push their abilities. Science centered students will find much to love about these texts.
Again, the goal here is to push students as readers. Even in the above texts, there is a scaffold of difficulty. Wright's pop culture take on diseases is far more accessible than Kalanthi's often existential absurdist philosophy on life. Your goal to help push students towards these tougher texts while giving them support and opportunities to pursue other texts if they falter.
The last thing I want to talk about is intensity in content. I keep asking myself. "When is it okay to read about trauma?" We cannot shield our students from every topic, and when I look at my freshmen texts, I see a variety of issues bubbling to the surface including sexual violence (Mango Street), suicide (Romeo and Juliet) and police brutality (Stamped). As their high school careers progress, they will see those topics again and again—often in more explicit detail. Again, finding bridges to help students confront those issues in a way that make sense. But the support systems might not be just in books. You might reach out to the school drug counselor, a social worker, the CRO or the school nurse to help talk about these issues.
Some of this content might be trying on our students or potentially baffling (I too struggled while teaching King Lear and explaining the importance of actions versus words), but utilizing sources through books and support systems might allow our students to access more intense texts.
TL;DR
Ultimately, a FITT reader needs exposure to more intense texts. But we must be mindful of how tough those jumps are. Giving students appropriate bridges to challenge themselves is a necessity for their growth (our growth) as a reader.
Daniel Valentin teaches English 9 and Senior Seminar at Horace Greeley High School. He is currently reading Kate in Waiting by Becky Albertalli and is listening to The Best of Me by David Sedaris. He wants his students to feel empowered through books. Follow him on Twitter @DanielJValentin
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