From Allison Vander Wood of Pershing School

Books have always played an important role in my life.  From my younger years, when I sat curled on the laps of my parents, absorbing each word of the stories they read, to my life today, where books are my commuting companion, filling my time between home and school on the El and the bus.   And, between those younger years and my life today, it was books that paved my educational road, defining not only years in school, but important teachers, friends, and moments that have shaped me into the person I am today.  Books were one thing that my home always had an excess of—spilling from tables, bookshelves, and piling next to the beds of my siblings and I.  So, it was natural that as I began planning my very first classroom last summer, the classroom library was at the top of my to-dos.

I shopped in second-hand stores, ordered online, and asked other teachers for their “left-overs” so I could start filling my bins and shelves.  From Day 1 last September, books, and not just textbooks, have defined my students’ learning experiences.  Read aloud is a precious time of each day, and students sit, amazingly silent and captivated, as I breathe life into the pages before me.  Unfortunately, for most of my students, the walls of our classroom are where the importance of books begins and ends.  My students do not come from backgrounds that make the boundless books of my childhood possible.  In fact, I began to grow aggravated one day when I noticed books missing from our classroom library.  Later, when students had left, I sat reflecting on the missing books, realizing that the missing books were merely a sign of the lack of books at home.

Which is why, when Rock for Reading contacted my school with a list of dozens and dozens of books that were available—for free!—for students, my heart began to race.  My students are eager, bright learners.  Reading is a sacred time in our classroom.  I knew that my students would immediately fall in love with any new books, nevertheless books that they could keep.

I placed my order, and let the four boxes sit on our back table for a couple of days.  My students kept asking “What is in those boxes?!”  I assured them that a day would come when we would see, and would only say “They are a gift for each of you.”  I wanted that anticipation to build.  I could feel their eyes staring down those boxes, thinking that if they stared long enough, or hard enough, they would surely see through the cardboard.  Finally, the day had come.  I slowly made my way to the back table.  I think one of my girls squealed because they knew what was coming.  I turned around to face my students—faces that are carved into my heart in a way I never knew possible.  I placed my hands on the flaps of a box, and cheers erupted.  I hadn’t even opened the boxes yet!  Calmly, trying to contain my excitement myself, I said “We have been very lucky this year.  A lot of people have donated things to our classroom to help us get a better education.  These strangers do not even know us, but they care, and they want you to be able to learn.”  I waited a quiet moment before continuing.  “Some very generous people have decided that we need to some books—“ I hadn’t finished the sentence and cheers and yelps of excitement drowned the sounds of my voice.  I held up a hand to signal silence, then slowly opened each box.  “In these boxes are books, books that you may each pick, to have, and to keep.”  Bodies leapt from chairs, moving up and down is jumps of pure delight.  Mouths released cheers at earsplitting volumes.  The excitement I had been containing spread across my face in an ear-to-ear grin.

It is moments like this where the power of education is revealed.  That excitement, that joy, is the purest example of a love of learning that one can witness.  When given these special opportunities, in this case, boxes of books to keep, I see children who are devoted, and empowered, by reading and learning.  There are many cards against my students’ futures.  Statistics say these students will probably not finish high school, never enter college.  But my mind and heart cannot help but feel differently.  And it is the seemingly little things, such as new books for a bedside, that make their future a little bit brighter and their love of learning even deeper.  Those books are hard-cover symbols of the hope for a bright future.

Thank you!
Allison