Why Teachers Who Don’t Read In Front of Students Teach The Wrong Lesson About Reading
Last month, I sat across from my 10-year-old Lila’s 4th grade teacher at fall parent-teacher conferences, twisting my coffee cup between my hands. The teacher had just explained that Lila rarely engages with independent reading—she rushes through her 20 minutes, stares off into space, and never picks up a free reading book during indoor recess. I nodded, because Lila says the same thing at home: “Reading is just homework, right?” As I listened, I scanned the classroom. The colorful reading nook by the window was full of new, popular graphic novels and chapter books, just like the district recommends. On the teacher’s desk, there was a stack of spelling tests to grade, a half-empty latte, and a work phone face-up, notifications popping up every few minutes. No book. I remembered stopping by early to pick Lila up three weeks before, and peeking in the door during independent reading. The teacher was at her desk answering emails, not reading.
That moment reminded me of my own 5th grade teacher, Ms. Henderson, back in the 90s. Every single day during independent reading, she’d drag her wooden rocking chair to the front of the classroom, pull out a tattered paperback mystery from her tote bag, and read. She’d mark her page with a grocery receipt, laugh out loud at a joke, or sigh when the bell rang to go to lunch. “Ugh, I was just getting to the good part,” she’d say, and shut the book. I was a slow reader back then, embarrassed to read out loud, and I’d always thought reading was just for kids who were good at school. But Ms. Henderson made it look like something she got to do, not something she had to do. I started checking out the same mystery series she read, just because I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.
I get why modern teachers don’t read during their prep periods or independent reading blocks. There’s so much that has to get done. I’ve talked to enough teachers to know that 20 minutes of independent reading is the only 20 minutes all day they can answer parent emails, input grades, and get ready for the next lesson. I don’t blame anyone for using that time to catch up. But what I’ve started noticing is that the quiet, unspoken lesson kids pick up on matters far more than any reading worksheet or comprehension quiz. Kids don’t learn that reading is fun because we tell them it is. They learn it because they see us choosing to do it, when we don’t have to.
I volunteer in my 7-year-old son’s 1st grade class once a week, so I see this play out firsthand. His teacher, Ms. Lopez, keeps a beat-up paperback romance novel in her desk drawer. Every day, for the first 10 minutes of independent reading, she sits on the rug with the kids and reads it. Last month, a little boy asked her why she was reading that book. She held up the cover and said, “The main characters used to date in high school, and they just ran into each other at the grocery store. I have to know what happens next.” By the end of the block, half the class was crowded around her to look at the cover. That week, three kids brought in their own books from home to talk about during snack time, something that hadn’t happened before in the months I’d volunteered.
This doesn’t require a huge overhaul of anyone’s schedule, for teachers or parents. For teachers, you don’t have to give up the entire 20 minutes of independent reading to catch up on admin. Even 5 minutes of reading your own book at the start of the block, while kids settle in, sends the right message. Keep a book open on your desk, and pull it out to read a page when you’re waiting for kids to line up for lunch, or while the projector warms up. Once a week, spend two minutes telling your class what you’re reading, and what you like about it. That’s it. No extra lesson plans, no extra work.
For parents, the same thing applies. So many parents ask me how to get their kids to read more, and I look over and see them scrolling their phones every time they sit down to wait for dinner, or during soccer practice. The same unspoken lesson applies here. If your kid never sees you reading a book for fun, why would they think it’s something they should do for fun? You don’t have to read an hour a day in front of them. Just keep a book next to your phone on the couch. When you sit down after dinner, read 10 pages before you pull out your phone. If you’re waiting for your kid’s after-school practice to end, bring your book instead of scrolling TikTok. Mention your book offhand: “I stayed up too late reading last night, I can’t wait to finish it this weekend.” Small, low-effort shifts.
After Lila’s conference, I mentioned my memory of Ms. Henderson to her teacher, offhand, not wanting to sound like I was criticizing. She said she’d never actually thought about it that way—she’d just always used independent reading to cross things off her to-do list. A month later, Lila came home from school last week and said Mrs. Carter had started reading a fantasy series during independent reading, and she kept saying how surprised she was that she liked it so much. Lila checked out the first book in that same series from the public library on Saturday. She’s only read three chapters so far, and she still stops to play Roblox every ten minutes, but it’s a start.
I don’t think this is a cure-all for kids who struggle with reading, or who just prefer other activities. Lila still groans when it’s time for her assigned reading homework, and I still catch myself scrolling my phone on the couch more often than I pull out my own book. This isn’t about being perfect, or shaming teachers who are already stretched too thin. It’s just about recognizing that the lessons we don’t mean to teach are often the ones that stick the most. If kids never see any adult choosing to read for fun, they’ll never learn that reading can be fun to choose. Right now, that small shift is enough for us.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » Why Teachers Who Don’t Read In Front of Students Teach The Wrong Lesson About Reading