After suffering through the reading experience at Collins View School, we moved to a new neighborhood with a public school which resembled, because of its small size and homogeneous upper middle class student body, a private school. The kids were still struggling with reading, however, but this school assigned us all to small groups with cute names of birds. This, I suppose, was to protect us from the sting that would have come if they had called them: advanced, regular and slow. However, everyone knew which bird was which!
This might have been an improvement, but the little groups still read out of books found only in schools called “readers.” They should be called “make you never want to readers,” since they were excerpts from longer books and little moralistic stories. So I was able to read faster, but the material was still simplistic. And even in 3rd grade I knew it was almost as stupid as Dick and Jane.
Thank goodness my mother was a total devotee of the public library. She took us to the local bookmobile weekly and we could take as many books as we could carry. (I still check out books the length of my arm.) Sometimes we went DOWNTOWN to the huge library with a whole room just for children’s books. I immediately had the ambition of reading every book there.
What was I reading in those years? I will explore that tomorrow.