A Case Against Accelerated Reader

Sometimes parents come up to me in the library, point to their child and say, "She's such a good reader. Already at level 2 even though she's only in 1st grade." Whoopie. Or they'll ask me for a book with at least 6 points for their 3rd grader. My first question is always to the child, IF the parents bothered to bring them: "What do you like to read about?" (my second question would be, "Why are you doing your child's schoolwork?" but whatever) I have some experience with the popular, but arguably effective, Accelerated Reader program employed in some schools. Basically, a mathematical formula is assigned to *some* books based on number of pages, words per page and reading level, which is somewhat subjective. For four years, I was in charge of this program in an elementary school. I kept track of the kids' points, helped to initiate incentive programs and, as a library aide, was encouraged to "push the points." All this, I did with a heavy heart. I would always tell the kids, "Okay, this book is four points but keep in mind that there are many, many books in our library that are wonderful but have zero points." Most times, they chose the AR books, since reaching the ten point level won them a chain necklace with a dog tag. Reading became a contest, something you *win,* not something to be done for the sake of enjoyment. I would watch two friends high five each other as they finished a Brian Jacques book, since that afforded them a luxurious 16 point lead over a competitor. "But," I'd ask them, "what did you think about Martin the Warrior? Was he a hero, in your opinion?" The blank looks on their faces gave me the answer. AR tests don't measure comprehension -- not really. I know this because I've made up tests before, and while I promised myself to always read the entire book before creating the quizzes, I was encouraged to perform the mantra of standardized testing: "just scan for the answer words." Don't get me started. I worry about parents thinking that a 14¢ chain jangling with dog tags means their kid is literate. I worry about a school system that doesn't give the kids enough credit to choose for themselves to let their minds expand through imagination, without keeping a score card. But mostly, I worry about kids who may never know what it's like to lose yourself in a book that is really, really GOOD. Deliciously good. A book that makes you sigh when you close the last page, regretting that the experience is over. Satisfaction, not because it has a high number penciled onto its title page or because someone else put it on a list, but because the story touched something in that particular child; maybe something that could change that child's outlook on life altogether or make that child see the world in a completely different way than they'd been taught. For those of us who are dedicated, lifelong readers, just think what your life would be like without the influence of what we've already read: how did Jo deal with rejection as she tried to become a writer, or what was important to Charlotte as she prepared to die? I have no idea how many points these books are, and honestly, I don't care. I do care that the measure of a book should be how it affects the individual, not in the number of pages finished. One of my favorite recitations is, "The more you read, the more you know. The more you know, the smarter you grow. The smarter you grow, the stronger your voice when taking a stand or making a choice." In this time of big change and responsible choices, it seems that our priority should be making sure the next generation becomes as smart as possible.