(Or, at Least, How It’s Changing Mine)
By Sarah Mackenzie
Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it. ~Proverbs 22:6
It was just an ordinary Tuesday, really, but it turned out to be so much more than that.
I was 20 years old; it had been a long, rainy spring; and the 450-square-foot apartment my husband and I shared was feeling even more cramped than usual. I packed up our one-year-old daughter, an overstuffed diaper bag, and a cantaloupe in danger of turning too soft, and headed out the door.
When we arrived at my friend’s house 25 minutes later, Christina opened the front door, threw her arm around my neck, and ushered us into her large, cheery home. I breathed a small sigh of relief and dropped the diaper bag by the stairs—another boring afternoon in our tiny apartment had been successfully averted.
Audrey, my daughter, immediately set off, eager to find the toy box. I trailed her, unzipping her coat as she toddled away. Christina’s own toddler, not too keen on me yet, returned my smile with a scowl.
Christina went into the kitchen to dig through the fridge, and I followed her. We had bonded months earlier over birth stories and coffee at a local playgroup, and I was grateful that even though there was at least a decade between my age and Christina’s, we could swap fears and feelings as first-time moms.
“Wanna keep an eye on the little ones?” she asked. “I’ll just whip up a little something for our lunch.”
I wandered to the family room, keeping watch as the toddlers ransacked the toy bins. Just as I was about to drop onto the deep leather sofa, I saw it—a book resting precariously on the edge of the fireplace mantle, Post-its jutting out every which way from the pages. I snatched it up and noted the title: The Read-Aloud Handbook by Jim Trelease.
If this had been happening in a movie, I’m certain there would have been music. In fact, it would have been the tension-building part of the soundtrack. The part that helps the movie-watcher realize that something of great importance is happening, that the rest of the story hinges on this seemingly insignificant moment.
At the time, however, all I heard was the babbling of toddlers and the sizzling of the bratwurst Christina was sautéing for lunch. I flipped through the book, noting how many pages were dog-eared, how many were marked up with penciled comments.
“What do you think of this book?” I asked Christina over my shoulder.
She turned from the stove and leaned forward, squinting slightly, to see what I was holding, “Oh, that one? It’s great!”
Turning back to her task, she added, “You can borrow it, if you like.”
(This is your cue to raise the volume on the soundtrack.)
Some years after that day at Christina’s, I stood on a stool in my kitchen wearing yoga pants, earbuds inserted, scrub brush in hand. Determined to clean out all the kitchen cupboards, I shooed the three kids out to the yard to play with friends while I tackled the silverware drawers and pantry shelves.
I was listening to Andrew Pudewa, president of the Institute for Excellence in Writing, give a talk called “Nurturing Competent Communicators.” A friend who heard Pudewa speak at a homeschooling conference was inspired, motivated, and filled with fresh enthusiasm and confidence. I had barely begun my own homeschooling journey, but I was already feeling overwhelmed and in over my head. I thought I could certainly use some of that fresh enthusiasm.
I listened and scrubbed as Pudewa told a crowd of homeschooling parents that the best way to help children grow to be good communicators was to read aloud to them as much as possible and to have them memorize poetry. I wiped crumbs into my hand and remembered The Read-Aloud Handbook, inhaled all those years ago. Maybe Pudewa was on to something.
I already read aloud bedtime stories and school books to my kids—especially to my youngest two, who couldn’t yet read anything by themselves. But something about Pudewa’s talk that day sparked an ember that had lain dormant, buried deep within me. I got to the end of the lecture and started it all over again, vacuuming out corners of drawers and scrubbing honey splatters as I listened once more.
This, I thought to myself. There’s something about this.
Have you ever seen a campfire that has burned down but not been completely tamped out? It looks like nothing is happening, but all you have to do is add a small bit of the right fuel—a scrap of paper, a dry piece of kindling, a tiny blast of oxygen—and that fire roars right back to life.
That’s exactly what happened when I listened to Andrew Pudewa. I began to read aloud to my three children (then ages eight, six, and four) more than ever. So startling were the results—so completely transformative were the changes in our family—that five years and three more babies later, I could barely keep myself from bubbling over with the thrill of it.
I had an active blog and had begun to play with the idea of starting a podcast. I loved listening to podcasts myself and thought it might be fun to launch one. In a moment of pure impulse in March of 2014, I shot an email off to the Institute for Excellence in Writing: Would Mr. Pudewa like to come talk with me on a podcast about the importance of reading aloud?
Within hours I had received a response from his marketing director—yes, Mr. Pudewa would be delighted to be featured on my podcast.
Hmm, I thought, eyeing my nine-month-old twins as they scooted themselves across the floor,
I guess I’d better figure out how to start a podcast.
It turns out that “how to start a podcast” is, in fact, a valid Google search. I ordered a microphone and headset, created a Skype account, and watched an online tutorial about how to edit voice recordings. I marked the day of the scheduled interview with Andrew Pudewa in bright yellow highlighter on my wall calendar, but as the day drew closer, I became more and more uneasy.
On the day of the interview, my stomach churned. I fired a text to my friend, Pam: What was I thinking when I asked ANDREW PUDEWA to be on my show? I don’t even have a show! I’m going to be sick. This is a bad idea. It was ALWAYS a bad idea. Whose idea was this anyway? See, this is where my rash and impulsive enthusiasm gets me. In too deep.
Pam responded with just three words: You’ll be fine.
(She’s heartless. Or I suppose she’s used to receiving such texts from me. I’ll let you decide for yourself.)
The interview went better than I could have hoped (so I guess, in the end, Pam was right), and Mr. Pudewa was a delightful and talkative guest. To this day, I doubt he realizes how terrified I was.
A week later, in between diaper changes and never-ending loads of laundry, I released the Read-Aloud Revival podcast. I was certain the internet radio show would last for only a few episodes and provide a very small circle of my blog readers with some encouragement to read more with their kids
I could never have imagined in those first days of the podcast that the show would grow to become what it is today—never dreamed it would see millions of downloads in the first few years and be heard by tens of thousands of families all over the world. As the podcast grew and responses from listeners rolled in, I realized something beautiful: I wasn’t alone. Other families had taken to heart this idea that reading aloud could transform their homes, and they had amazing stories to tell about it. Finding other families who were prioritizing books and read-aloud sessions in the way my own family was made my heart sing.
Emails began to fill my inbox. Listeners wrote in to tell me that they were reading aloud with their kids, and that it had become everyone’s favorite time of day. They would say that ever since they started listening to the podcast, they had begun reading together before bed, or at lunchtime, or by listening to audiobooks in the car. Their families suddenly had their own inside jokes, their own shared experiences. It was knitting them together in new ways. They told of their nonreading kids who were begging for “one more chapter,” of an energy and enthusiasm in their homes the likes of which they had never seen before. Something big was happening in homes all over the world. A revival was taking shape.
In all the conversations I’ve had on the Read-Aloud Revival podcast with experts, authors, moms, dads, and reading enthusiasts, I’ve come to understand something that both delights and relieves me: reading aloud with our kids is indeed the best use of our time and energy as parents. It’s more important than just about anything else we can do.
Reading aloud may seem too simple to make that big of an impact. But the stories I’ve heard over the years from families all over the world, the data collected by experts, and the personal experience I’ve had sharing stories with my own six kids has convinced me beyond a shadow of a doubt.
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Adapted from The Read-Aloud Family: Making Meaningful and Lasting Connections with Your Kids by Sarah Mackenzie. Learn more about this title.
Connecting deeply with our kids can be difficult in our busy, technology-driven lives. Reading aloud offers us a chance to be fully present with our children. It also increases our kids’ academic success, inspires compassion, and fortifies them with the inner strength they need to face life’s challenges. As Sarah Mackenzie has found with her own six children, reading aloud long after kids are able to read to themselves can deepen relationships in a powerful way.
Founder of the immensely popular Read-Aloud Revival podcast, Sarah knows first-hand how reading can change a child’s life. In The Read-Aloud Family, she offers the inspiration and age-appropriate book lists you need to start a read-aloud movement in your own home. From a toddler’s wonder to a teenager’s resistance, Sarah details practical strategies to make reading aloud a meaningful family ritual. Reading aloud not only has the power to change a family—it has the power to change the world.
Sarah Mackenzie is an author, speaker, and podcast host. She created the Read-Aloud Revival podcast in 2014. That fateful decision resulted in a highly rated show with millions of downloads. Sarah helps families all over the world fall in love with books. She lives in the Northwest with her husband, Andrew. She homeschools their six kids and considers it her high calling to make sure they are well-stocked in the best books she can find.