As the school year kicks off, mornings in our household are often a whirlwind. Even though the school bell rings at 9 a.m., the chaos of getting the kids ready usually means a mad dash out the door. This particular morning was no exception. I had to wake my youngest son, the family’s notorious late riser, just 10 minutes before they needed to leave. That led to a frenzied breakfast of an Eggo and a rushed teeth-brushing session.
And then came the dreaded reading log.
Words can’t adequately convey my disdain — no, my utter hatred — for reading logs. While neither of my children could be classified as avid readers, they still enjoy books. They read snippets while waiting for friends to finish homework, during car rides to church, and in bed before drifting off to sleep.
The challenge lies in our family’s inability to accurately track their reading time. Honestly, who times their reading sessions and records the minutes? No one, at least not in our home.
What should be a delightful and enriching activity turns into a tedious chore filled with my nagging and their tears. Instead of immersing themselves in a great story, they’re glued to the clock, counting down until they can stop. Reading transforms from a pleasurable pastime into a mere task to check off a list. Instead of savoring their time with a book, I find myself reminding them to log their minutes or wracked with guilt for forgetting the log entirely.
I recognize the good intentions behind such assignments. Teachers aim to foster positive reading habits by setting daily reading goals. However, these well-meaning efforts often backfire, turning an enjoyable learning experience into a burdensome obligation.
Research backs this up, showing that external constraints like reading logs can diminish genuine interest in the activity. A study highlighted in The Atlantic reveals that reading logs might negatively impact students’ enthusiasm for reading. This rings true in our household.
“When reading is portrayed as something one has to be forced to do,” the study explains, “students may conclude that it is not an activity they wish to engage in during their free time.”
Last year, we struggled to maintain the monthly reading logs, filled with a mix of coercion and frustration until I finally threw in the towel halfway through the year. Since my kids often read in bed, we frequently missed logging their time, which led us to guess which days they read and for how long. Let’s be honest, those guesses weren’t exactly reliable.
Before long, I felt like this process was fostering a sense of dishonesty. If I was allowing them to “fudge” their reading time just to turn in an assignment, what kind of lesson was I teaching? It didn’t feel right, so we abandoned the whole idea.
Interestingly, neither of my sons’ teachers seemed to notice the absence of the reading logs, which suggests they might not value them as much as we were led to believe. In fact, there’s a growing trend among educators who are opting not to use reading logs at all.
As for this school year, it remains to be seen how things will unfold. We’re just one week into the reading logs, and I’m trying to maintain an open mind. Perhaps they will inspire my kids to read more. Maybe this will provide the motivation they need. Oh, who am I kidding?
For those navigating similar challenges, you may find helpful tips on managing home activities on sites like Make A Mom. Also, for additional insights into maintaining a clean home while juggling parenting duties, Intracervical Insemination provides valuable resources. If you’re exploring family-building options, Resolve is an excellent place to start.
In summary, while reading logs are intended to encourage literacy, they often convert a joyful activity into a chore. Our experience reflects a broader reality that might suggest a reevaluation of how we approach reading at home.