Tina Boscha

(Or any e-reader, for that matter. But I’m partial to the Kindle.)

Let me explain.

Every spring I teach a seminar for freshmen college students called “Romancing the T(w)een: Sex, Love, and Gender in YA Literature.” It is the most fun I have teaching; we read Twilight, Forever, Rainbow Boys, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, and more.  We also read some pretty academic work, including journal articles on gender and the panopticon - heady stuff. We watch a documentary on American sex ed and the first half of Twilight the movie - and within ten minutes all of us are cracking up over how ridiculous it really is. (Yes, I said it. It’s ridiculous.)

Want to guess how many men are in my class?

You’d be right if you said NONE. The class is pretty popular and fills up in less than an hour, which makes me feel pretty great as a teacher. But I will admit that it’s disappointing to read over the class and waiting lists and see that there are no Matts, Mikes, Brents, or Jasons.  Gender-neutral names give me a little jolt but inevitably the person who shows up is female.

DON’T GET ME WRONG - I love that women are interested in my class! Most of them are voracious readers and come in with strong opinions about YA literature and a desire to question things they have never thought to question before. But that’s not the issue here. Males have sex, are pressured to conform to gender ideals, fall in love, etc.

So why aren’t they lining up to take my class?

The answer is complicated, but part of it is because most young men don’t read. At least not novels, and certainly not a lot of YA. (Disclaimer: I am not an expert here, and I am also not offering up a lot of research on this topic. But as a teacher of 18 year-olds, I hear - and see the outcome of this - this a LOT.)

I do know two little boys who read a TON. One, let’s call him M, is 11 and is an avid reader. He falls asleep every night with a book on his chest. Last year for Christmas he received a shocking number of books and was thrilled about that. His sister received a spiffy camera and tried to tease him about it. His response? “Oh yeah? Well books make you smart so HA!” I love that.

My nephew, little P, is 9 and loves to read as well. This past summer when I visited I let him play around on my Kindle and apparently he’s wanted one ever since. I just got this in my Facebook inbox from a relative: “…hope Santa Mom & Dad make it happen. He keeps telling me how ‘when my aunt was here I used her’s and I could look up words I didn’t know, and, and, and…’”

To me, there is the answer. Reading on an electronic device automatically makes it cool for most kids, who are used to iPads, iPhones, cell phones in general, PS3s, etc.  This is what they know. So put a Kindle in their hands and they are jazzed about pressing buttons and having another cool gadget.

But make no mistake - they are reading. And please don’t say that ebooks aren’t real books unless you want me to punch you in the face. (Figuratively.) Is that music piping through your earbuds from your iPod not real? Or that touching email you received not real because it wasn’t sent through the post? And let’s face it - how many of us stop at a word we don’t know, look it up in a physical dictionary, and then keep reading? Shoot, I’m a teacher and I rarely did this pre-Kindle. I learned a lot of words in context and through a strict K-8 education but come on. It’s just not going to happen, especially when I’m cozily curled up on the couch with a book, warm and happy with my mug of tea and my novel of choice.

But on a Kindle you press an arrow and boom! The definition is right there. Press return and you get more. Press back and you are at your paragraph. It’s a 10 second process. So kids are not only reading, they are also far more likely to learn new words, synthesize meanings, and then the list of benefits that extend from there are extraordinary.

Keep buying books for all your kids. Read in front of your kids. Read WITH your kids. Limit your screen time - oh man that’s hard - and lead by example. 

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll have more young men, eager and interested and bursting with four-syllable words, in my classroom. Hopefully sooner than later.