Growing up, my brother was, like most older brothers, mean.  He used to tease me unceasingly and use every opportunity to embarass me.  Normally, I gave him what he deserved for his cruelty.  However, I remember several ocassions when his rude comments would cause me to lose my breath.  He would tell me how dumb I was and point out how smart he was, "just like mom and dad" he'd say and then the kicker, he would tell me that I was adopted.  I know that most younger siblings have heard this claim more than once but rarely do they stop to consider the possibilty.  For me, though, it made perfect sense that I was adopted.  In the most general sense, I was different from the rest of my family but when it came to specific traits that I assumed must be genetic, I was pitifully lacking.  The reading gene was one that did not appear in my life until my early twenties, while my parents and brother have been avid readers since they were old enough to hold a book. 

As a kid, reading was never enjoyable for me.  Much like many children today, I suspect.  Kids are given lists and lists of books to read and series that they ought to have already read, combined with the dry textbook writing that they must read.  Even with the enticement of reading clubs that reward you with free pizza and other junk, reading can be a chore for kids.  My own son, who is 6 and learning to read, shows interest only in certain books and only at certain times. 

An article in the New York Times reports on the value of summer reading for children.  While I agree in theory, I would hate to be that child who is forced to read when they absolutely abhor it.  In my own case, I avoided reading at all possible costs because I remembered vividly how torturous it was as a child.  Thankfully, now I am over it.  I love to read, however, I rarely get the opportunity to.  I encourage my children to read and will read to them whenever asked, but I'm not forcing anything.  I think they will discover the joy on their own time.