Storybookers

7 Proven Ways To Get Boys To Love Reading

storybookersblog:

How many time have you thrown your hands up and said, “I give up”?    

For many people, those who care about positive child development, giving up isn’t an option.  

Think about how your life would be if you had no access to the written word.  This is a reality for many people. For some it’s a physiological issue other it’s psychological.  There are also those who by not understanding the importance of reading never bother to develop the skill sufficiently.  Until it’s too late.

So what does it take to get a young man to put down his Playstaion and pick up a book?   There will be those who say that maybe it’s best not to buy one in the first place.  But that isn’t always as easy as it sounds.  Some parents bribe their kids with games times as a trade off against time spent reading books.  The danger of this is that reading then becomes the opposite of things that are fun.  That’ll set the ‘Reading for Pleasure movement’ back a bit.

So what do you do?  I know teachers, parents and carers who have come up with some clever little ways of getting boys to see reading as a positive force in their lives.  Whether it’s as a pleasurable distraction or as a way to gather a wealth of useful information that they can use to enhance their lives.    These are some of the insights I’ve gathered.  I’ve also thrown in a few that have worked for me over the years.

So here they are, in no particular order.

7 Tips for getting boys into reading:

1.   Tell them a story

If it’s a short story, tell  it to them.  And I mean tell them rather than read.  There are a number of reasons why I say this but I’ll expand on that another time.  Telling a child a  story might sound obvious to some but there are people who are little reluctant.  People often think that if you tell a child a story they won’t read it for themselves.  But you wouldn’t think that if you knew how much the book sales of the Hunger Games went up after movies came out. 

2. Tell them about a story

If it’s a long story, tell them about the story.  Be a kind of trailer and get them excited about finding out more.  Ok, this might take a bit of practice.  But watch TV and movies trailers and have some fun with it.

3. Let them see you reading books.  

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Posted 505 weeks ago

About Me


Don't Judge a library by its Cover

Posted by Norman Bailey on Monday, July 7, 2014


The old Birmingham Reference Library as been the cause of much controversy since it first opened in 1974.   Closed since 2011 and now replaced by the new Library of Birmingham but it still forms a formidable sight.   There are people who want it demolished and some who campaign for it to get listing status.  It's fate lies in the balance.

Me I've always like it.  Though many can't see why.  So here's why.


 Because it saved my life.  Or at least helped me get the life I truly wanted, rather than the one other people thought would be best for me.  Without it I would have struggled to find the knowledge and the inspiration I needed to pursue a career in the Arts.

Let's start at the very beginning


As far back as I can remember I always wanted to be an artist.  So the question I was asking myself one afternoon back in1978 was, "why am I standing on a dirty factory floor with blood pouring from my part severed hand"?  


The answer was that I was growing up in Birmingham.  Handsworth, Birmingham to be precise.  Birmingham had been the industrial heartland for about 400 years, so for boys a career in engineer was first on the list.  Handsworth was close to the top of the social deprivation list so unemployment was next on the list.   So I found my self in engineering.  And one fateful day, two years into my four-year engineering apprenticeship, I took  my industrial accident as a wake up call. 


I'd already applied to art school at this point - I'll save the details for another day.  But my schools attitude and approach to the arts meant me having to take a roundabout route.   Being an artist didn't feature at all in my school careers advice.   In fact I was actively dissuaded from going to arts school by my careers teachers who wanted to give me 'safer' options.   The irony wasn't lost on me as I was being rushed to hospital rapidly losing blood.      

      

Draw what you see


Art lessons in my school was as good as a free period.  A free period that lasted the whole afternoon I might add.  It was something to pass the time while teachers got on with 'real' teaching somewhere else.


For the years leading up to my CGE or O'level in Art, I can't remember which because my art training was fairly basic and totally forgettable.  The teacher would come in, set up a still life study, usually made up of mundane object that lay around the room, say "draw what you see" and leave.   From what I knew of the teacher I don't believe that she went off and and put her feet up.  It's more likely that she had another class to teach or caught up on her mountain of marking. 


That was the full extent of my visual art training at school.  Now, draw what you see isn't bad advice and I'm thankful to my art teacher for passing on that piece of wisdom.  But when it's the only advice you get it does leave you a little out in the cold.


There was no discussion about form, colour or negative space.  There was no critique of my work or instruction on building a portfolio.  Just, here you are and see you later.  Only there was no 'see you later' because she never came at the end of the lesson.   She never checked to see if we even stuck around until the end of the day.  Which, once we got bored of the whole thing, we didn't.


As we were free to do what we liked we would simply pack up and leave the school grounds.  Our afternoons would be spent either playing by the riverbank or going into the city centre to hang out in the Bullring or the uber-cool Oasis grotto.  But watching movies and hanging out with your mates in bars during school time soon lost it's appeal.  And besides I'd begun to develop my mean and broody artist persona very young and was into my moments of solitude. 

The thing is as a child you don't get to many of those.  Or at least I didn't.   I had six sisters and a brother so home life was a pretty in-your-face experience.   Plus, school, which takes up a lot of a young person's life, means you're often in the company of hundreds of others people most of the time.   


The discovery of the Birmingham Central Library was to change all that. 


A New Library Frontier


The Birmingham Central Library opened in Chamberlain Square 1974.  The building now lies empty having been replaced by the new Library of Birmingham, which opened in neighbouring Centenary Square in 2013. 


It has always divided opinion.   Prince Charles described it as looking like a place where books go to be incinerated and a former Birmingham director of planning and regeneration labeled it a 'concrete monstrosity'.  And so the battle rages between those who see it as a blot on the landscape and other who believe it's stark British Brutalist architectural style needs to be preserved.


It was worth noting that Birmingham born architect, John Madin, had no intention of building a 'concrete monstrosity'.  His original plans were for the building to be clad in marble.  But Birmingham City Council were reluctant to foot the bill and the concrete exterior was used instead.


Never Judge a Libary by it's cover.


Admittedly the library's sub-bauhaus design isn't even my kind of thing but I have grown to love it.  Besides I wasn't into it for it's looks.  It was what lay within that was to be my salvation.  It contained a wealth of knowledge I couldn't get anywhere else.  Not at my local library, as good as it was, and definitely not at my school library.  But that's another story.


Inside I discovered the writing of great philosophers, historians, dramatists and political thinkers.  But It was when I came across the books on art that my life changed.  There were beautiful images of the great masters finest works.  And I found information about influential past an contemporary  art movements. 


This was all before the internet, so without these books I would never have been able to find any of this.  I was inspired and soaked up all the knowledge I could. Those days, pouring through volume after marvellous volume, shaped how I viewed the world and how I saw my future place in it.   


I still get little reminders now.  Occasionally I'll walked into a gallery and find myself standing in front of one of the paintings I lovingly gazed at in my youth.  Once I get over the initial rush I smile and thank the Birmingham Central Library for what it gave me all those years ago.


I paid a visit  to the new Library of Birmingham a few months ago.   I like it.  It was more like coming home than visiting a new building.  For a start it's attached to another of my  old stomping ground, the Birmingham Rep.  But it was when I reached the art department and found that some of the books that I was inspired by all those decades ago are now on the new library shelves that I felt a sense of continuity.  I was filled with hope that some young kid wanting to follow their chosen path would also be inspire.


Attitude to the creative industries is slowly changing.  The last few years as seen it become one of UKs major growth sector.  But there's probably a young person somewhere having a hard time convincing people that they want to follow their dreams.   


So before I go.  Is there something you need to know?  Is there a nugget of wisdom you're seeking that will transform your life?  If so, there might be a book on the subject you need to fulfil your destiny.  It's probably available, for free, at your local library.   So why not pop down and see.


The Birmingham reference library,designed by birmingham born architect 


This may seem very progressive.  After all art is subjective.  It wasn't that I was seeking any sort of external validation as to my skills as an artist b but some some of acknowledgement would have been nice.


This was a double period, which took up the whole of Wednesday afternoon.  And having set up the composition, usually made up of mundane object that lay around the room the teacher would leave never to return.  From what I knew of the teacher I don't believe that she went off and and put her feet up.  It's more likely that she had another class to teach or caught up on her mountain of marking.  But once we cottoned on to the fact that he never came back at the end of the day we decided to follow her lead.