Mr. Salt was second grade. He was fantastic.

ETA: Oh, huh. Thought I was in Natter. My lurking ways have been exposed! Well. Carry on.

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My second grade teacher also rocked.

My second grade teacher was on "Solid Gold." I kid you not. She was just one of the women dancing in front one episiode.

I didn't realize at the time how young she was.

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My first grade teacher rocked. My fourth grade teacher seriously rocked.

But I can't remember any teachers who did not encourage me in writing, although there were a few who rather reasonably objected to me busting out the song lyrics actually during class.

My junior English teacher apparently got intimidated by me, and let me leave class to do an independent study which was, essentially, trying to get an article published in a little magazine. I don't know why, exactly, I freaked her out, and I kind of regret taking the option, because she was a good teacher and I think I would have liked her. Instead I dawdled a lot in the guidance counselor's office and didn't get squat published, because what I turned out was complete tripe.

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Okay this is the stuff of natter (will cross post) but I came across this as we were discussing YA horror books and couldn't help but be thankful that I was not forced to wear one of these as a child. (last one especially)

[link]

Incidentally, these might be more horrifying than anything Stine or Pike could imagine.

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They look a bit like those Mexican pro wrestlers.

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The only grade school literary occurance I remember was having my third grade teacher flip out at me because I was reading Beowulf in class. She actually called my mom and told her that I couldn't possibly understand it because she'd failed to understand it when forced to read it in college.

I believe my mom womanfully refrained from laughing in her face, but only just.

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Joe, I read Joyce at thirteen. Freaked my teachers out. But understand him critically? Nope. And still don't. I have precisely the same reaction to him now that I had then: a deep visceral giggling that is akin to being drunk. He leaves me emotional and happy, the same way Shakespeare does: it's in the rhythms, I think. My brother, on leave from the military, read an eight-year-old me to sleep with Cymbeline in German. It was all about the rhythms of the language, the same way music is for me.

I know I wasn't, but I also know I could feel--viscerally--the difference between a good book and a bad book. I knew Sendack was more fun to read than the cheap (though more brightly colored and shinier) books at the grocery news stand. I have huge respect for kids' taste and I think they are even LESS swayed by "crit" mind than adults are. A kid likes a book because they like it, not because it won a Caldecott. Classics of children's literature become that way because kids respond to them over and over.

Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes YES! You knew you dug reading it - or, if too young, hearing it read to you - and you knew certain buttons were pushed, whereas with other books, the buttons weren't. Is that it? JUST what I've been trying to say. My only caveat is that I personally never thought "good" or "bad" - I was "I don't like" or "I like". That's why I got so frustrated at being told I was making a value judgment. LAST thing I'd make on a writer. If I say "I think this sucks", I'm saying "I don't like it", not "this is bad."

I was very surprised on scoping out books that stayed with me--that I remembered and missed from my childhood--on the internet, that so many of them were classics and written by excellent authors. They stayed with me (as opposed to the other bookjs of the dozen or so I gobbled down a week) because they were good. That's why the authors were well-regarded, because they wrote books which could do that. I may not have known WHY I responded to them, I just knew I did.

YesyesyesyesyesYES. I loves me some Robin. Beautifully clearly put.

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True 'nuff. I don't think I began deconstructing books in any critical fashion until I started trying to write seriously. Even then, it's mostly for techniques to steal rather than for any scholarly analysis. I usually reserve my scholarly analysis for historical works.

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A kid likes a book because they like it, not because it won a Caldecott. Classics of children's literature become that way because kids respond to them over and over.

In first grade, Ben borrowed a book from the library because it had the Caldecott gold medal insignia on the cover. He was *very* impressed, but there may have been plans to harvest the gold for untold riches. I'll never tell.

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My experiences as a children's librarian tell me that children respond viscerally to things you can't predict, and often to things we all can agree are crap. I don't think that children automatically gravitate towards 'classics' because the classics are better, although they are; I think the reason for that gravitation is that the classics are works they can share with the adults and older children in their lives, and everyone reading the book gets something out of it.

Rather than the parents enduring yet another read-through of an incredibly bad tie-in picture book to the 70s Disney movie The Black Hole. (I had a toddler at my old library who was obsessed with that book, and the parents hated it, and prayed it was just a phase.) I think young kids in general tend to live in a soup of private knowledge, and can turn something pointless (like, a stick) into something pointful (a baby doll) with the application of imagination -- and they do the same to books.

When I was a kid, I "read" Tintin books in French, with zero reading comprehension. It was a totally different story from the translated versions I found when I was older.

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