Over the last few weeks, my office has become a fortress of books (book-titude – could that become a word?) as my list of academic readings and general literature for school gets longer. It’s bumped a few guilty pleasure books to the back of the list, but this post isn’t a rant.
It’s a recognition.
I’m planning summer reading curricula for my middle and high school students, and, in doing so, enjoying an unusual gift. I had reviewed many of the required middle and high school classic works of literature while preparing for my teacher certification exams, but, now, as I dig deeper to find works engaging enough to keep a group of teenagers focused all summer, I’m actually experiencing them.
The second (or third) reads of these books aren’t better than the firsts, but they are richer. There is more context. There is a new perspective conferred on those lucky enough to survive to another reading of an old favorite. There is the unexpected glee of discovering a new favorite not previously recognized, and there is the sudden realization that sharing this experience with another generation, getting them to love these stories, will be a great adventure and also, as Stan Lee might say, a great responsibility.