Why We Stopped Reading — And How to Start Again
If you’re anything like I was, you were an avid reader when you were young. I kid you not, my idea of a fun outing was taking a trip to my local Barnes and Nobles with my mom and spending the entire afternoon in the kid’s section reading anything I could get my hands on. Even about fifty percent of my Christmas list every year was comprised of the latest installments of The Magic Tree House, The Boxcar Children, or the newest dystopian novel that had just gained popularity.
Unfortunately, once I reached the ripe old age of 14, this love of reading came to a screeching halt. At the time I didn’t question why this was the case, as I became way too engrossed in the digital world and everything else that teenage life had to offer. However, over time I was able to pinpoint what exactly was responsible for killing my infatuation with the written word. The guilty verdict had fallen upon none other than one of the “greatest” things high school had to offer; English class.
It confused me too. Why would a class that was dedicated to reading be the very thing that started my grand aversion to all types of literature? It had everything to do with the new associations my mind had created around the topic of reading. Every book I was assigned in school was coupled with crippling deadlines, lengthy essays, meaningless analyzations, and difficult exams. I was no longer reading for enjoyment and personal growth. I was now only reading to pass the next test or be able to participate in the next class discussion.
Books such as The Great Gatsby, Catch 22, and The Glass Castle are all novels that I probably would have enjoyed had I not been assigned to read them. The interesting plots and unique style of writing was completely lost in my disdain for the course itself. These courses had taken the beauty out of reading completely.
So, how do we fix this?
I needed to find the beauty in reading once again. I needed to strip literature of the negative connotations I had created. I needed to recreate that joy I once had while spending hours upon hours in the book store searching for something I had never seen. To do this, I needed to take a break from reading altogether. The only books I read during my freshman year of college were textbooks (as a stem major, I am not taking any literature classes that require readings). I didn’t pick up a real novel until this past March. That was almost an entire year! In that time I had begun to miss that feeling I had as a kid. I missed the feeling of cracking open a new book and feeling the pages. I missed the feeling of reading the last sentence and feeling a tinge of sadness as you turned the last page. I was ready to create new positive memories with reading, and that is what I did.
From that point on, I told myself that I was only going to read books that I was truly interested in and wanted to spend my time reading. I told myself that there would be no deadlines and no forced reflections upon completing each one. I promised myself that I would read for me and nobody else, and that brought the beauty back.
I hope it can do the same for you.
