How I Learned to Read by Lynda Waterhouse
I have always been fascinated by the mysterious process by
which a child learns to read. In my experience there is always a moment where
all the mechanical parts - the letters and sounds, the handling of books, the
listening to and shared enjoyment of stories, the musicality of language in
songs and poems - all come together and everything clicks into place.
I’m not even sure what reading is. The dictionary defines it
as ‘The activity or skill of looking at and comprehending the meaning of
written or printed matter by interpreting the characters or symbols of which it
is composed.’
That covers the mechanics but what about that inexplicable
process where the words transport you into another world? Or provide you with information
and food for thought? As Dr Seuss says, ‘The
more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the
more places you’ll go.’
It got me thinking about my own reading journey.
Early memories
My grandfather, William Waterhouse, from the age of 11, was
a ‘half timer’ working for half a day in the local cotton mill and receiving
half a day of schooling. This left him with a thirst for knowledge and he educated
himself. As a child we had many of his books on our shelves. Reading was a form
of self-betterment for him and his family as well as a form of escapism. He died
before I was born but his legacy lived on in the many books he left behind.
At home we had a very old book of Bible stories. Each page
folded out to make a 3D image. This book was fragile and had to be handled carefully.
We were not a religious family, but my Mum believed in hedging your bets and
liked the social side of the local church. My Dad, coloured by his own
experiences of intolerance during the war, was scathing about it. I was about
three years old and I recall ‘pretending’ to read the words that accompanied
the pictures to the delight of my parents who encouraged me to continue doing this.
The subversion of words
I was in infant school, about Year 1, and our teacher read
us the A.A. Milne poem Furry Bear. The whole class shrieked with delight and
made her read it over and over again for days. The reason was these lines
‘For I’d have fur boots and a brown fur wrap
And brown fur knickers and a big fur cap’
We were making our teacher say ‘knickers’ over and over!
All was going smoothly, I was reading, writing and loving
words THEN I BECAME PART OF AN EDUCATIONAL EXPERIMENT.
ITA Experiment
With no explanation nor rhyme nor reason, our school introduced
a new way of teaching reading called ITA or Initial Teaching Alphabet. This method
was created by the MP James Pitman, the grandson of Isaac Pitman who devised a
shorthand system. He was not an educationalist. It was an attempt to simplify
English and accelerate learning. I had to learn 44 symbols for each of the
sounds in English. To add to my confusion the spellings were presented with
sounds of someone who spoke with Received Pronunciation, not an Oldham accent.
It was traumatic and made no sense to me but being a compliant
child I went along with it and went from being a successful reader and speller
to being a slow learner needing extra help. Then after a year it disappeared without
explanation and I was told to go back to the way I had learned to read before
and that I was not a failure after all. It has left me with a distrust at the
over reliance on synthetic phonics.
The library is my lifesaver
Once I had recovered from my ITA experience (although my
spelling never really did) I became and remain a voracious reader. During the
summer holidays I had many reading adventures thanks to Oldham Library and the
access to books that it provided to me for free.
Reading for pleasure remains one of the joys of life,
alongside making up stories to the ‘pictures’ I see in art galleries and a love
of subversive language. How did you learn to read?
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