Good. Better. Best. Choosing the option that’s better than the rest.

Once upon a time, everyone just kinda did the same thing, not necessarily because they wanted to but because of their sheer lack of options. My favorite throwback for discussions like these belongs to the day, age, and place of Laura Ingalls. Out there on the prairie the whole town had that one general store which carried those three different calicos. And on the first day of school, it was almost as if all the little girls were wearing uniforms. Why? Because they were all wearing dresses of the same calicos.

You went to school back then. Or you did not. And no one really belabored you either way because the reasonings for each were pretty straightforward.

Oxen pulled your plow unless it was pulled horses. And again, nobody really raised their eyebrows at that sort of thing.

Nowadays it seems like we have an ocean of choices. Done right, a person could breaststroke, free stroke, backstroke, and / or butterfly across the Ocean of Options, no big deal. Done wrong, a person could sink, simply paralyzed and overwhelmed by the crushing weight of it all (afterall, it is hard to manage the pressure and give a defense to those bewildered folks on social media. . . or in the grocery store).

There was a time when schools taught children to read at six, also called first grade which was also, coincidently, the first foray into school. Now we have Kindergarten, Pre-Kindergarten, and academically inclined daycares. The earlier our children are leaving the home to be enrolled in these institutions, the earlier children are being taught to read. In fact, there’s a program geared to helping 3 months old begin their journey toward literacy. T’would be a shame for them to fall behind.

In light of all these options, a parent or two could really use a moment of reflection to consider which one (if any) is best and why. And, equally if not more importantly, when should my child learn to read?

And even more specifically, should my child learn to read at three?

And if you were asking me, I would have to say:

No.

And let’s talk about why . . .

No, a child should not learn to read at three or four or perhaps even five. For formal instruction, six or seven years of age could be a much better time to begin.

Please remember that should is the operative word here. These thoughts of mine are not thoughts of a child’s ability, or capability or being gifted or remedial. No, this is about parents making a judgement call on the best use of their child’s time or for that matter, their time with their children. It is also a judgment call on the best use of a parent’s time and thought space. Perhaps instead of teaching your young child to read, you simply read to them. Or played outside with them. Or explored the vastness of nature. Or let them play by themselves and build a sense of independence and self-sufficiency. Perhaps instead of worrying about their reading level, you turn your attention toward their character, and habit training.

Certainly some children want to read — and do!— at three or four. Some children even teach themselves and surprise the adults in their lives with their literacy. I know five year olds who eagerly desire to learn to read, but that is a slightly different storyline then the one I am exploring here.

Because these thoughts of mine do not concern themselves with ability.

This is about parent’s fretting over their very young children and their ability to read. It is a thing, I think, that should not be done.

Why? Because there are better activities for a young child to engage in then reading by herself.

Who wants to see a three year old sitting alone on a sofa reading? Is that not the point of early reading? And yet, is it not significantly more lovely for that child to be tucked into her mother’s lap being read to? To have that child wrapped up in cuddles exercising her moral imagination?

Should a four year old set aside constructing train tracks and castles for the reading of some mundane “Dick and Jane” story? Would it not be infinitely more interesting for that young boy to be brandishing a sword and fighting a dragon while his father reads ancient Greek mythology in all of its gory and glorious language? Does the thought not just warm your soul?

Savor the wisdom of Miss Charlotte Mason with me:

“The consideration of out-of-door life, in developing a method of education, comes second in order; because my object is to show that the chief function of the child––his business in the world during the first six or seven years of his life––is to find out all he can, about whatever comes under his notice, by means of his five senses; that he has an insatiable appetite for knowledge got in this way; and that, therefore, the endeavour of his parents should be to put him in the way of making acquaintance freely with Nature and natural objects; that, in fact, the intellectual education of the young child should lie in the free exercise of perceptive power, because the first stages of mental effort are marked by the extreme activity of this power; and the wisdom of the educator is to follow the lead of Nature in the evolution of the complete human being.” (Vol. 1, pp. 96-97)

Perhaps then it could be argued that children should not spend their time reading nor even being read aloud to in favor of their exploration of the outdoors. And I could concede to that.

Miss Mason also writes:

“That the knowledge most valuable to the child is that which he gets with his own eyes and ears and fingers (under direction) in the open air. (Vol. 1 pg. 177).

And I can also concede that observing the budding fruit trees, or the gathering of acorns by squirrels, or the discovery of the shed skin of a snake makes more of an impression upon the mind of a child than a dry book on the same subject matter. Additionally, how much more ideal is it for a fact in a book to be anchored to reality by a child’s own careful observance of the world in which he lives and moves and has his being?

“Well,” you may say, “The out-of-doors is all well and good but what about early reading as a predictor of academic success?”

In that case, my answer would be two-fold:

Academic success is not the end all, be all, highest-and-bestest outcome for my child and/or the world at large. My child’s education should expand his soul, and embolden him to live virtuously with courage and insight. What delight would I have in a Harvard graduate with no moral compass, no work ethic, no backbone, and no vision? What benefit to society would he be?
And, false. Those studies you are citing report on children in traditional schools (public or private). It follows, then, that a child who is one of 30 students in a classroom and does not have strong reading skills may not sufficiently have the teacher’s time and attention to satisfactorily bridge the gap that separates him from the strong readers. It may also follow that the late/ weak reader’s confidence falters and causes him to self-identify as a “bad reader,” thereby becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. Also late / weak readers may not be read to at home or have parents who are interested in aiding him in his literacy. Basically, I am not much interested in a study regarding children within a traditional school setting who may or may not have involved parents as clearly my children do not fit the case study.

So then, what is the point? Consider, please, what is the point?

What is the point of childhood?
What is the point of early reading?

Your answers to these questions matter and matter deeply, because in the end, parents, this is not about what can be done, but instead what should be done.

In the end, parents, you must ascribe value: why must a child learn at all? what should she learn? how should she learn it? and even, yes, when?

Should a Child Learn to Read at Three?

No.

Further reading:

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