Newpapers

Thank God, I felt so much better today.  Not great when I started the day, but better and better as the day progressed.

We had five teachers absent, so I spent most of the day covering classes.  We have 76 teachers.

Very recently I stopped by Starbucks, and while waiting for my drink, I discovered an English language newspaper.  What a gold mind of information!  I can't believe I've been here three months tomorrow and have just now discovered this.  It'll arrive at my door beginning tomorrow.  It's not easy to find, and I don't want to have to drive around searching for it everyday.  Besides, I love waking up to the paper at the door.  

Call me old school, but I like the feel of a newspaper and magazine and book when I'm reading.  As much as I appreciate just about every imaginable print medium being available online, I still prefer the real thing.  I really am grateful for my Kindle app that allows me to read my books anywhere, anytime, especially when I was extremely limited on the number of bags I could carry with me here.  And I'm still reading the Sacramento Bee, thanks to this great technology, but I'm looking forward to lounging on the couch on weekends, reading the paper.  The "real" one.

I've always loved reading, having a great appreciation for being able to read beginning at a very young age.  


Those of you who know me well, know that my father was illiterate.  He couldn't recognize his name.  I saw firsthand how limiting illiteracy was in his life, and I was so grateful that I could read.


Every Sunday, Daddy would go to the store early and buy the paper, bring it home, and very meticulously "read" it from cover to cover. I think he was longing to be able to read, and so he did the best he could by trying to figure out what it said by the pictures.  

Although he loved to drive, of course he couldn't read the road signs either.  Thankfully the colors and shapes helped him to navigate.  How did he get a license if he couldn't read to take the test, you ask?  Well, in the segregated South where he was raised, he, like many others, worked for wealthy white farmers.  It was commonplace for the farmer to "vouch" for his workers, and that was good enough to get a driver's license.  If my father were alive, he'd be 94.  He was born in 1918. 

He told the story of eating dog food before it was customary to put pictures on the labels of can goods.  He told it in a lighthearted way, but can you imagine?  I used to bring a can of generic dog food with no picture on it to show the kids when I subbed and later in my own classes to share this story with them.  Although they responded by laughing or thinking it was gross, it gave me a great segue to talk about the importance of reading in our lives. 

The reason that I love to read is because I can read.

As a result of these experiences and because of the value both my Mom and Dad put on education, my brothers and I are all college graduates.  This was a huge accomplishment, considering where we can from.  

China, Texas was home and it was a farming community.  There were about 1000 folks living in the town when I was growing up. There are about 1100 now.  I'm convinced the census takers are counting headstones.  Not much has changed in the almost forty years since I've been gone. You were expected to finish high school, marry someone from the neighborhood, have kids, and start the cycle all over again.  Only five folks, including myself, went to college.  There were a 100 in my graduating class. 


Side note - I'm most proud that Ben and Frankie love to read, too.

Anyway, as I’ve said before, we are the culmination of our experiences.  Although it was tough sometimes, growing up with an illiterate alcoholic, I wouldn’t change a thing.  You?