Wanted, Male Models: There's a good reason why boys don't read

If you think this is one of those scholarly articles packed with facts and percentiles and references to government studies, stop reading. This piece is full of anecdotes and opinions. And it comes from a lifetime of teaching and writing for the “I won’t read” student, who, the majority of the time, ends up being a boy.

“Why don’t you read?” I recently asked a group of teenage guys. “Did you like to read when you were little? And if you did, what’s changed?” At first, I got a lot of shoulder shrugs. But I’m the proverbial dog with the bone, and they finally gave me some answers—probably just to get rid of me. Here’s the gist of what they said.

Illustration by Gary Hovland.

Who reads? Well, mostly women. Moms frequently read to their young sons at bedtime. Elementary school teachers and media specialists, who are primarily women, read to their classes. And in movies and on TV, it’s women or girls who are typically rushing off to their book clubs. Men don’t read—instead, they do. For instance, men don’t read books about hunting, they hunt. They don’t devour novels about race-car driving; they go to drag races—and often take along their sons. For many boys, reading becomes a chore that prevents them from pursuing manly things, like playing sports, fishing, rock climbing, and, later, chasing girls. Testosterone keeps guys running and gunning, and if they don’t see members of their own tribe reading—trust me—they won’t deem it important.

Boys aren’t elephants, but these hefty creatures and teenage boys occasionally have a lot in common. At times, both can be unaware of their ability to wreak havoc because of their sheer size and energy. A study of teenage male elephants revealed some intriguing findings. The young behemoths lived in matriarchal societies (which is common for elephants) in protected parks, where there were no older males. They spent their days running amuck—forming rival gangs, fighting, going wild, and engaging in dangerous, wanton destruction. No matter what the park rangers tried, nothing seemed to help. But when an older male elephant was deposited in each park, order was quickly restored. These king-size kids simply needed a mature male to show them how to behave, to teach them the ropes.

Now, this is purely my opinion, but children copy their elders. They want to be what they see. A boy doesn’t want to be a woman. He wants to do what a man does. And if he doesn’t see a man reading, he won’t read.

How can we fix this problem? Certainly, we need more men in the teaching and library professions. That’s a great fix, but not a quick one. But there’s one thing that every mother of a young son can easily do: hand that picture book to your husband or brother or father or any male you can capture and have him read to your child. Whenever a male enters your home, before you offer him a cup of coffee, make him read to your son. If there’s a live-in male at hand, make sure your son sees him reading books on a regular basis. If you can swing it, get some of the neighborhood men to start a book club. And if you really want to please the reading gods, persuade the local guys to launch a father-and-son book club.

Whatever you do, don’t expect teachers and librarians to turn your son into a reader. It’s not their fault he won’t read. By the time he meets them, he’s been primed for failure. Be proactive. And I’m sorry to say this, but a male has to be involved in your plans. I was a single mother, and I read to my son until I was blue. He loved hearing me read to him. But around third or fourth grade, guess what happened? Uh-huh, he stopped reading for pleasure. Now that he’s an adult, he’s still not a huge reader, but he often reads books to his sons. He remembers how much he loved being read to as a kid. I make sure there are plenty of books in his home. And when my grandchildren come to visit, I make sure there are loads of kids’ books in my house, too. I often read to them, but more importantly, they know that my husband is wild about books—they see him reading all the time. And sometimes, as a treat, they get to read all by themselves in “Grandpa’s reading chair.” Big times.

No wonder I’m so hopeful.