The original is over here on TWITTER if you feel like commenting more directly.
I can relate. The best thing my parents gave me was teaching me to read before I even started school.
The original is over here on TWITTER if you feel like commenting more directly.
I can relate. The best thing my parents gave me was teaching me to read before I even started school.
To quote Brother Mouzone from The Wire
“You know what the most dangerous thing in America is, right? Nigga with a library card.”
Maybe I should blog this bit of my personal history. I grew up in a tough-ass factory town in the Northeast. In the East End of Bridgeport, Connecticut. BUT, Bridgeport had a well-endowed, though sparse, library system.
Every Saturday morning, my mom and my sister and I walked the 2 miles to the East End branch of the Burroughs Library. She fought and won to get each of us moved up to adult-level access as soon as she was certain about our reading level. In my case, I was 8 years old.
We brought my AMERICAN FLYER little red wagon with us on the walk…we were getting a few books apiece for the whole family: mother, father, sister and me. That’s what the wagon was for. Every Saturday, rain or snow, sunshine or sleet. Best childhood present I ever received. 52 weeks a year.
Ha! Quite the sight.
When I was in primary school, 13 or 14 years old, we still had a religious instruction class once a week. RI has since been banned from Oz state schools. Myself and a girl in my class petitioned the vice principal for us to be able to spend the RI class time reading in the library instead. The VP was so impressed that he granted us this special dispensation.
The Outsiders was one of the books I read during that time.