Upon reading my last blog about the whiz kid in my son's class who was practically reading "War and Peace" off the art museum wall like it was "Cat in the Hat," I got a couple of comments from well meaning friends and family seeking to placate my evident distress over the situation.
My mom first suggested that perhaps that child had been to the exhibit before and already learned about Charlie Parker playing be bop. Perhaps. But then what about the different kid who read "Sourpuss and Sweetie Pie"? If she'd previously been to the art museum too, then my failing has gone from not teaching my child to read appropriately to not exposing him to any culture whatsoever (unless the children's museum and occasional library outings count). I don't feel better.
My father, taking a similar but slightly different tack, suggested that if I had whispered "Charlie Parker played be bop" in my son's ear before that other mother did, there'd be another blog bouncing around the virtual world right now waxing less-than-poetically about my son's amazing accomplishment and their child's relative shortcoming. Alas, theory #2 is also kaput. That child was sitting next to no one but other children. And I find it no measure of solace if another kid whispered the answer to him. I still don't feel better.
However, the one thing I do take heart in is an article I read just today indicating that it's completely normal for kids to begin reading anywhere between ages 4 and 7. The precocious readers seem to just pick it up before they ever set foot in a school. Some kids, who turn out to be perfectly intelligent and competent, aren't able to put the abstract concepts together until nearly 2nd grade. It's all a matter of brain maturity. The basics can be taught, but the whole deal can't be forced or rushed.
Whew! Now that makes me feel better.
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