Giant Step Award: Picture Perfect

Bernstein pitched an innovative visual literacy project—reading picture books to upper-elementary and middle-school students. She and cohorts Charlotte Wood and Reba Friedrich were such a big hit last year with seventh- and eighth-grade special-education students, they were eager to spread the word. But Taylor wasn't giving them the time of day.

"I remember thinking, 'There go the test scores, because how on earth are we going to squeeze this in?'" she recalls. "Almost every minute of my time is spent covering the curriculum for these SOLs. Unfortunately, in this time of accountability and [with] the emphasis on test scores, I was afraid that we wouldn't have the time to cover what we needed for these state tests."

A few months later, Bernstein returned with more ammunition—an hour-long PowerPoint presentation detailing how picture books improved reading comprehension. At the end of her talk, all of the school's fifth-grade teachers were sold. Bernstein's library, the cowinner of the SLJ/Thomson Gale Giant Step Award (see also Shaking Things Up ), took a huge leap by introducing the Looking to Learn program to a group of children that normally wouldn't be caught dead reading picture books. But to listen to the kids tell it, the risk has paid off.

"It felt weird at first," admits Mitchell, a fifth grader at Matthew Whaley. "I didn't want to read books for kindergartners. But then I figured out that picture books were for everybody. They explain how life can be, and I didn't expect that from a kindergarten picture book." And as Aaron, another fifth grader, explains, the connection between what we see and understand eventually becomes second nature. "Now I like to visualize things in my head, so when I'm reading chapter books, I understand them better."

Indeed, the Williamsburg Regional Library, which includes the Williamsburg Library and the James City County Library, has a long history of collaboration with schools. Each year, Bernstein and her team of children's librarians visit K–5 students at nearby elementary schools for an early morning storytime program called Booked for Breakfast. There's also Booked for Lunch, in which she reads to third graders at lunchtime over the course of 10 consecutive school days. And during Battle of the Books, from January to March, kids must read 20 suggested titles in order to participate in a popular Jeopardy–like game.

The library, which serves about 11,245 kids, ages two to 14, has always had a reputation for taking its outreach programs seriously. So much so that it encourages signed contracts between the library and its partners. "By making it formal, both institutions have a commitment in writing that outlines certain obligations," says John Moorman, the library's new director. Depending on the level of commitment, each partnership is entered into the library's database and labeled as a "glance, date, engagement, or marriage." To be sure, the relationship between the library and the Williamsburg-James City County School District is a solid marriage, he adds.

The idea for Looking to Learn started in 2002, when Moorman felt the need for another outreach program targeting older kids. That happened to coincide with a coworker telling Bernstein that her seventh-grade son was having difficulty reading. A 25-year veteran of public libraries, Bernstein has always been interested in the difference between good and bad readers. So when an opportunity to attend a brain research workshop came along, she was thrilled. The seminar by Donna Shreve, director of the Family Center of Tampa Bay, a child development research facility at Nova Southeastern University, convinced Bernstein about the importance of visual literacy. "I was trying to find out some scientific basis as to why using picture books was a good idea," she says. And her hunch proved right: children don't understand or retain information that they read unless they form visual images in their minds, she learned.

Although Bernstein had the latest research squarely on her side, she still had to face her share of skeptics, who opposed the use of picture books with older students. So, the first thing she did was to meet with principals and media specialists. "The more buy-in you get from the top, the better it is," she says. Bernstein and her team of librarians explained how they helped students compare illustrations and explore how art is used to expand stories, create moods, and act as visual modifiers to books with little text. The librarians showed kids visual images and asked them to write about what they saw to enhance reading comprehension. Then they reversed the process by first reading aloud and then asking the students to draw what they heard. They also paired picture books, such as Mother to Tigers (Atheneum, 2003) by George Ella Lyon and illustrated by Peter Catalanotto, with chapter books like Kate DiCamillo's The Tiger Rising (Candlewick, 2001).

The results spoke for themselves: by the end of the 2003 academic year, a majority of the kids at Queens Lake Middle School improved between 10 and 20 points on the Degree of Reading Power Test, which measures students' ability to comprehend text. It was pretty extraordinary, considering the typical growth rate is about five points a year.

"Some kids pooh-poohed them as baby books, but as we got into the books and discussed adult topics with them in relationship to the pictures, they took on a different tone," says Patty Gorski, a former Queens Lake reading specialist who worked with Bernstein and her team. While some children made instant progress and others took more time, every child eventually improved his reading skills by a minimum of one grade level and some by as much as three grade levels. Overall, Gorski says, up to 85 percent of her students became more interested and enthusiastic about reading.

One of those kids, a seventh-grade special-ed student who was a nonreader, would curl up by the back radiator looking uninterested. But by May, something amazing happened: he picked up Catalanotto's Matthew A.B.C (Atheneum, 2002), walked to the front of the room, and read it to the class. "We connected him to books in a way he had not been connected before. We're helping kids to see mental images and then the word to make a synaptic connection," Bernstein says. "A lot of people think older kids don't like to be read to, but they do. We're changing that perception and exposing kids to books that they normally would not pick up."

The program may appear deceptively simple, but careful decision making went into choosing a body of work that spanned fiction, nonfiction, and biographies, and dealt with multiculturalism. The books also had to have a certain level of thematic sophistication in the art and writing so students could be inspired to move on to chapter books. Another important criteria was an author's ability to visit the schools at the end of the year. Since very few people offer such range, Bernstein chose to limit the number of authors she used so kids could make quicker connections. For instance, students easily recognize the Mark Rothko–like backgrounds in Catalanotto's Daisy 1, 2, 3 (2003) and Emily's Art (2001, both Atheneum). Hence, the core of Bernstein's visual curriculum consists of titles from Catalanotto, George Ella Lyon, and Megan McDonald. "I wanted authors who would talk to middle schoolers, not talk down to them," Bernstein says.

Looking to Learn can be tailored to suit any school program, and Bernstein admits to fine-tuning the curriculum as she goes along. Since she uses the same books for all age levels, she'll ask older students more complex questions. And, of course, there'll always be a few surprises. During her first visit to Berkeley Middle School last January, half of the class was engaged with the lesson, while the other half was busy fidgeting and whispering. Bernstein immediately shifted gears, whipping out a few books that she knew would grab their attention: Ian Wallace's The Naked Lady (Roaring Brook, 2002), Emily's Art, and Imagine a Night (Atheneum, 2003) by Rob Gonsalves and Sarah L. Thomson. The kids perked up when she asked which book was their favorite and why. Then Bernstein introduced related puzzles and drawing exercises. "Don't get discouraged, just be flexible," she advises.

Looking to Learn also has something for everybody—even top-notch students who already love to read. "It teaches them to look at things more carefully or it may spark an interest in art and illustration," Bernstein explains. "We're even modeling something that they may use with their own kids one day." Andrew Jacobs, Matthew Whaley's principal, jumped at the chance to offer his fifth graders the program. "This kind of enrichment should be afforded to every child," he says.

It's a late afternoon in spring, and most kids at Norge Elementary have gone home for the day, except for a group of fourth graders who are eagerly awaiting Bernstein and her team. The three librarians make their way through the school's pale yellow hallways, until they reach an after-school group that has been designated as at-risk for failure.

Bernstein unloads a crate full of books, pulls out Catalanotto's Dylan's Day Out (Orchard, 1989), a heavily illustrated and sparsely worded book about a Dalmatian that leaves much to the imagination. After a few probing questions, it doesn't take long for the kids to realize that there's a deeper meaning behind the book's clever interplay between color and black-and-white images. "Maybe he's dreaming about animals that look like him," one child says. Bernstein locks eyes with special education teacher Jandy Strickland, and the two smile. It's hard to believe that this bunch has failed the SOLs. "The real reward," says Bernstein, "is seeing a lightbulb go off in kids' heads and knowing that you've made a difference."