by Ken Royal
Seeking a Better Way

As a young teacher in 1974, I was forced to use basal readers with my 4th graders, and have at least 3 reading groups—unbelievably referred in faculty meetings as the Bluebirds, Robins, and Crows. The three levels, if you could call them that for each basal never fit any of my students, and I got tired of hearing how father and mother gathered the whole family, including the dog, up for a picnic in the country. Believe me, which was even a big stretch for a family that usually was confined to the area behind a white picket fence.
What I didI managed to get my hands on a box of paperbacks, with multiple copies, which were in a storeroom. It had some great titles, as well as great authors. I think it was actually for a program called Great Books. Well, I shanghaied that box. Then I did something, which teachers have done forever—I reached into my pocket to gather new, fresh paperbacks, again in multiple copies. I finished off my collection by visiting our small school library, lugging back all the books I was allowed to carry out. I was young, naïve, and didn’t think beyond doing what I thought was a good idea and in my mind the right thing.
ChangeI collected all the basal readers, shared the books I’d collected, and began my own individualize reading program. Most students chose appropriate levels, while some needed help. It was the usual, good readers choosing easier books and poorer readers choosing higher-level books. I never said no to a book, but always suggested students to take another—at a more appropriate reading level. By using center activities, I found that I could conference students pretty effectively, as well as individualize instruction and assignments. Kids devoured the books, my non-readers became readers, and interests were developing based on reading.
T
he Authors
My students loved Beverly Cleary, Judy Blume, and went absolutely bonkers for Robert Newton Peck, author of
A Day No Pigs Would Die,
Soup, and
Soup and Me.
I began contacting nearby authors to see if they might visit my classroom. Maurice Sendak turned me down; he enjoyed writing for kids, but not presenting in front of them.
But I didn’t give up, and called Robert Newton Peck. Mr. Peck’s answer was “Sure, should I bring the horse?” I told him that I wasn’t sure if I could handle the horse. He agreed to come, and even bring books. He said that if it was OK, he’d speak to the school, as well as my class, so I set it up. Board members and administrators from other buildings wanted to be there, too. This was pretty thrilling.
A Day My Teaching World First Stood StillBefore school began, on the very morning Robert Newton Peck was to arrive, the principal came to my room and escorted me to his office. He was a WWII veteran, tattoos and all, with a knack for very colorful language. Well, he laced into me, replacing subject, verb and adjectives with swear words. The gist of it was that how could I decide to change the way students were reading in his building. He explained that my insubordination was grounds for dismissal. “Get those basal readers back in that class, and get out of my office!” Again, that’s the non-Navy version. I was devastated.
Carry OnI’ve spent other head-in-hands days in my career, but that was the first—and a very emotional beating. I went back to my class, and continued preparing for the day. My partner teacher asked me what had happened. She was planning her own basal reading revolution. I told her and my heart was shattered all over again—my brain was whirring.
Robert Newton Peck ArrivesRobert Newtown Peck walked into my classroom, wearing a cowboy hat, and actually had to bend his head to get through the door. He stood well above the classroom chalkboard. He was carrying his book Soup. He spoke to my class gently, telling us things about himself, writing, and the characters in his book. He answered all questions, and even told us about new books. They’d heard me read, but when Peck read, you could hear the love he had for his own characters.
Lunch with Robert Newton PeckLunch separated the classroom from the afternoon school-wide presentation. My partner teacher and I took Peck’s advice, and we found a spot outside, and sat down for lunch. All three of us sat on some rocks, ate, and talked. After some chatter about characters in his books, he looked at both of us and said, “OK, what’s going on?”
My partner teacher shared that my reading program had gotten me into some hot water with the principal. Peck said something about it being the reason he had visited, and that things tend to work out.
The School PresentationThe principal held the microphone and introduced Robert Newton Peck to the school, board members, administrators, and parents. Peck towered above him as he reached out to take the microphone. He started with, “Sir, did you actually pay money for that tie?” Everyone roared. The tie was awful. The principal’s face turned red as he backed off. And then, Robert Newton Peck talked books—real books—and not basal readers. He talked about his books of course, but it was more about books read by students, and used my class as an example. I’m not sure if all there knew what they were listening to, but I did.
Eating CrowThe next day, the principal again escorted me to his office—saying nothing. I was certain it would be for more of a tongue lashing, as well as an order to leave. Instead, in his office, he asked me to sit, and he was quiet. “I have to eat crow,” he said. I really didn’t know the expression, so he explained that after meeting with the superintendent and the board—they had decided to go in my individualized reading direction. “They want you to keep doing what you’re doing.”
I still remember that uneasy smile the principal gave me as I left his office. Again, my partner teacher wanted to know all. The next week, she collected her basals, and set up her classroom like mine. Not everyone in the building changed, but the ones that didn’t were now on the hot seat.
And I can’t help but believe that part of the change had to do with Robert Newton Peck, and A Day My Reading Program Didn’t Die.