The Little Girl Who Just Wanted to Read

A nostalgic journey through childhood libraries, fan fiction forums, and the parents who nurtured it all

I started to weep heavily in my dad’s arms. Alarmed by my outburst of emotion, he asked me what’s wrong.

“I just want to learn how to read!” I exclaimed between sobs.

“Baby,” he coo’d to calm me down, “Daddy’s going to make sure you learn how to read. I promise!”

I sniffled as I dried the tears in my eyes with the back of my little hand. I had a decision to make. Here were my options:

• I could either keep crying about my tragic lack of reading skills at 3 years old because honestly what could be more depressing?

• I could beg my dad to read the book for the 6th time this late at night after he had been at work all day which I was confident that I could win that debate just like I did the 5th, 4th, 3rd, and 2nd time.

• Or you know what…I’m going to read.

I stopped crying, sat up straight, and said, “That’s okay, daddy. I’m going to read to you.”

And thus I told him the story that I imagined was going on in the book that we were looking at. I commented on what the animals had on in the story. I described how they were hungry and were going to get some ice cream. I talked about how the dog genuinely just wanted a bone but he was a go with the flow type of dog, you know? He saw how happy all the other animals were so eh why not ice cream. He had bones at home anyway.

I finished my “reading” and I was quite proud of myself. The end!

At least that’s the details that I would put in the gaps of the story my dad told me of how I broke down in tears at my inability to read. I have no idea how I “read” the story but if you ask him yourself, I’m sure he will come up with a similar version of what happened 34 years ago in our little house in South Memphis.

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If you could guess, Matilda was one of my favorite movies. This girl was just as excited about books as I was. I adored the library and she did too. I couldn’t quite understand why my parents wouldn’t let me casually stroll to the library by myself as a child but learned later that it was because they cared a bit more about me than Matilda’s parents.

They actually cared deeply about me, way more than I understood at the time. My mom stayed home with me all the way up to the time I was in 5th grade. In my earlier years, she would sit me down in a little yellow Fisher Price chair. I would squirm a little in my blue, purple, and hot pink 90s style jogging suit (shoutout to the 90s kids) and recited my alphabet on camera to my mother. Softly. Meekly. But rest assured, I knew the alphabet.

You see my mother would “play school” with me. She got a little chalkboard and would have me to practice writing my letters and numbers. She worked with me every day as my dad worked shifts as a mail carrier. She would take me to the library where I would get the limit, 12 books if I remember right…and I would read them all. My biggest delight was when my parents put me in a Dr. Seuss book club. I was ecstatic! Not only am I getting a book, but it’s MY book. I don’t have to return it and it was addressed as mail to me. A whole me. In Pre-K, getting my own mail like an adult. You couldn’t tell me nothing.

From then on, I carried a book with me everywhere I went as if it was an oxygen supply tank. I repeatedly would read Dr. Seuss, The Berenstain Bears, a series called Help Me Be Good books and all kinds of Little Golden Books.

As I got older, I was excited to start Kindergarten. My mom told me of how much I’ll get to read when I went to school and she was right! I loved school. So much so that teachers took notice and suggested bumping me up a grade because of my reading level. But my mother feared the other kids not being inclusive of a younger kid being in their class so she settled for me just attending the 1st grade reading time. I was so excited. Reading AND with bigger kids. I felt very grown up! Until I realized that they didn’t really want me there.

You see the classroom was set up where we sat in a circle. Each kid would read a few sentences and then in “popcorn style” would choose the next kid to read. I listened as each kid picked another and discovered that they never picked me. To make myself feel better, I would read ahead and finish the story to myself. Once I finished, I just waited for the other kids to finish the book that they read without choosing me. My excitement had completely washed away after several sessions of coping this way, and one day I sadly admitted it to my mother. Of course my mother was not having that. She marched herself to the school to talk to the teacher who only shrugged and said that that’s how she runs the reading circle so it’s the kids’ fault.

The teacher…simply shrugged… and blamed the kids saying that there’s nothing she can do.

As if these 6 and 7 year olds would rise up and punish her for including me.

That’s alright. My mom shook it off and pulled me from the reading circle. So back to my kindergarten class, I stayed at all day where I did feel included and there were plenty of books to read.

As I continued in elementary school, I kept my reading habit. At the end of the school day as I waited for my parents to pick me up, I would wander into our school’s library and help the librarian shelf books. Library time was my favorite time in the week and the librarian liked me enough to allow me to spend time in there every day. Although my mom was supportive of it, I do have memories of her lecturing me about how long she was waiting in the car line because I wasn’t paying close enough attention to see that she had arrived. So I had to learn balance at that age then if I wanted to keep my library privileges!

Books continued to be everything to me as I moved up to the 5th grade. We had the Accelerated Reader program at our school so I of course took place in competitive reading. Not only because I wanted to be invited to the big pizza party but also because I wanted so badly to beat HER.

Monica.

She ALWAYS won first no matter how much I tried.

And what’s so bad was that I LIKED Monica.

She had a little short blonde haircut and glasses. She was very smart and a very sweet girl. We would even chat about books sometimes. Eventually I had to let go of my competitive spirit and just focused back on enjoying reading which fortunately wasn’t that hard for me to do.

Going into middle school, I would volunteer here and there in our school’s library once again to shelve books. What I loved about books is that I could immerse myself in a variety of stories and I was amazed that I could literally learn anything if I wanted to. All I needed to do was pick up a book from the library about it. That felt so freeing! The freedom to learn whatever whenever!

Things started to shift in the 7th grade as that’s when I discovered a community of readers my age online who also loved to write books. And I was OBSESSED.

Now mind you, although this online forum of teenage girls were all B2K fans and wrote fan fiction stories, that made it even more enjoyable. We all were writing fan fiction about Dreux, De’Mario, Jarrell, and Omari and the adventures they had with their girlfriends. If you were active on the internet before the rise of true social media platforms, you know how forums became an internet home for many kids and teenagers to connect.

But over time, especially once the B2K band broke up, I started writing stories that didn’t feature them and instead had a variety of characters. More girls on that forum started to broaden their scopes in their writing. It was fascinating seeing what our imaginations could come up with. I often wonder what happened to those girls that I use to talk to almost every day online about what we’re writing. I had “friends” in the UK and all across the United States where we chit chatted about everything.

Going into high school, I still kept up my reading habits and would even still write stories myself. I always had a book on me to read or a small mead notebook with a G7 gel pen to write the next chapter of my stories in any spare time I could find. I was a pretty quiet and introverted girl in high school. I tried to be social at lunch time, but I have many memories of me going off to read my book or to write. I even had a few teachers who liked me enough to stay in their room during lunch so that I could have peace and quiet to do so. However that eventually got banned so I would go to the library, the auditorium doorsteps, or just outside along the rail.

Now into college, that’s when my reading and writing bug actually started to die down. I minored in English, and I remember enrolling in a Fiction Writing class. For the first time I was comparing my writing to people “in real life” and wow…comparison truly is the thief of joy. I felt embarrassed at how I felt my writing didn’t match their levels of expertise. That was the last time I ever wrote a fiction story.

Then there was so much reading that I had to do for college that it felt overwhelming. I simply didn’t have the capacity in my mind to read anything else outside of what was constantly being required of me. But I did however choose the campus library to do my scholarship volunteer hours at. I would arrive at my shift at the front desk to check out books for people, check in books, handle the interlibrary loan needs, and bunch of other tasks around the library.

After graduating college, my relationship with reading changed again and not because I didn’t love reading but because my ambitions pulled me into a different direction. I was all in with instructional design, talent development, psychology and everything and anything that had to do with my career. I was anxious and ambitious about learning all that I could about my career choice to become an instructional designer. So for many many MANY years those literally were the only topics that I read about.

Did I have colleagues that thought I must didn’t have a life?

Absolutely.

And I guess looking back I would have thought so too because what you mean you spent your weekend finishing a book about the latest in learning retention research and had a great time reading it??

I used to start so many sentences at work with “so this book I read said…” It was very well known that Rachel loved to read so much so that when there was an assignment to build a campus library at my job, I jumped at the task. It was one of my most favorite projects that sadly didn’t have the technology to keep it going. RIP campus library.

All this to say that now as I’ve arrived at my late 30s, that gusto for reading hasn’t left. I have finally returned to fiction with the help of some friends of where to start, but of course I haven’t left my favorite genres of psychology and memoirs. I love reading about people’s individual journeys. I also loved learning about people in general and why they make the choices that they do. Besides, all of it helps me in my career of talent development anyway so it felt like I was making great progress in my work.

Reading has been part of my life for many years. I love the whole process of looking for a book to read, buying the book, reading the book, and finishing the book. Now I may overindulge in the buying the book part, but I feel like it’ll balance itself out eventually.

I want to say thank you to my parents. So thank you Mom for “playing” school with me. And thank you Dad for delivering on your promise ensuring that I would learn how to read. My parents were not perfect, but as I get older, I see how much they sacrificed out of their love for me. For that, I’ll always be appreciative. Building up my reading and comprehension skills was one of the best skills that I have especially being in a role that requires continuous learning. I genuinely don’t know if I still would have had that interest if it wasn’t for my parents nurturing it in me as a child.

So now I just try to pay it forward. I’ll give recommendations and in special cases, buy books for people based on what skill they are working on. I buy books for my friends’ kids as gifts. I’ve donated to First Book, a nonprofit that supports access to books for children as there are many classrooms that don’t have a library of books to choose from, something that shaped my love for reading so much growing up.

When you’re truly grateful for what you have received in life, you feel more inclined to give back to others. My gratitude will always stay high so I look forward to continuing to do what I can to support the growth and learning of other little Rachels that just want to read.

Warmly with a cup of tea,

Rachel