My first year in the homeschool co-op, I taught American Literature to high school upperclassmen. Over the summer I formulated objectives based on academic standards, but when friends asked about the class, I told them my goal was for the kids to truly appreciate literature. They didn’t have to like everything we read, but I wanted them to at least learn to appreciate it.
Secretly, though, my goal was for the kids to love literature.
At a summer planning session I met the parents of my students. They seemed enthusiastic about the class and said their kids were excited, too. I introduced myself to Tom’s mom.
“I should warn you, ” she said, “Tom doesn’t like to read.”
“I’d love to find literature that engages all the kids. Maybe I can find something to entice him. Tell me about Tom. What are his interests?”
“Tractors.”
“Ah!” I quickly ran through mental files searching for a classic book featuring a tractor. Couldn’t turn up anything. “Um, what else?”
“That’s it.”
“Just tractors?”
“Just tractors. He’s on a tractor first thing in the morning, out in the fields before any of the others are up. I make him breakfast and he heads out early. All day long he’s either restoring a tractor, repairing a tractor, driving a tractor, or thinking about tractors.”
“Does he like to read anything?”
“Tractor manuals.”
Later, I met his sister and asked her about his interests.
“Tractors, ” she said.
“Nothing else?”
“Nope. Just tractors.”
“Does he ever read anything?”
“Tractor manuals.”
Resolved to find a way for this kid to love literature, I dedicated the rest of my summer to finalizing my reading list and locating something that featured a tractor—a book, essay, poem, anything at all…anything but a tractor manual.
I found passing reference in a Willa Cather novel. Then I stumbled on this scene in The Grapes of Wrath:
THE TRACTORS came over the roads and into the fields…. Snubnosed monsters, raising the dust and sticking their snouts into it, straight down the country, across the country, through fences, through dooryards, in and out of gullies in straight lines.
[…]
The man sitting in the iron seat did not look like a man; gloved, goggled, rubber dust mask over nose and mouth, he was a part of the monster, a robot in the seat…The driver could not control it—straight across country it went, cutting through a dozen farms and straight back. A twitch at the controls could swerve the cat’, but the driver’s hands could not twitch because the monster that built the tractors, the monster that sent the tractor out, had somehow got into the driver’s hands, into his brain and muscle, had goggled him and muzzled him—goggled his mind, muzzled his speech, goggled his perception, muzzled his protest.
I decided not to have them read The Grapes of Wrath. I chose one of Steinbeck’s short stories instead. As summer waned, parents were emailing, asking for my final book list so they could start ordering. I gave up on tractor lit.
The students tackled The Scarlet Letter, sustaining remarkably high interest during class discussions. Tom seemed somewhat disinterested in the book, but when asked a direct question, he answered quietly. He may not have liked what we were reading, but he appeared to grasp the material. Now and then he even expressed an alternative viewpoint, energizing group interaction. Tom probably preferred to spend his Tuesday morning planting corn in the north field instead of discussing Hester Prynne with his peers, but he didn’t complain.
For the final assignment for The Scarlet Letter, I asked students to incorporate symbolism into an art project to represent one or more of the book’s major themes. They could draw, paint, sculpt, create a collage with magazine clippings. Then they had to tell us about their creation and how it related to the book.
One student fashioned an elaborate letter A out of fabric and glittery gold accents; another drew an anime version of the story highlighting key plot points.
Tom drew a chalk pastel of a farm. Along the left side, a tall, flourishing tree reached over a long fence, dividing a pasture and wooded area from a barn lot. Two tractors were parked near a barn: a green John Deere and a red Farmall.
We worked our way around the room, each student describing his or her project and how it related to the story. Then Tom stood up. He carried his 9-by-12-inch artwork to the front of the room and softly explained his piece.
The two tractors represented the protagonists—Hester, cursed to wear the scarlet letter, was, of course, the red Farmall. The fence represented the divide between the town and the forest. He found a way for each element to have meaning and connect with something we’d discussed.
“Tom, ” I said, “when I saw your artwork, I thought it was beautifully done. You’re a talented artist, and I was so impressed by your attention to detail. But I’ll be honest—I couldn’t imagine what those tractors would symbolize. Hearing you now … I think you did it. It’s unusual and unexpected, but that’s what’s interesting. You understand the story and explored the theme. It works. Well done.”
Tom nodded and returned to his seat. I hoped he felt my sincerity.
Throughout the year, the reading load weighed heavy on the students, but they determined to keep up. The class gained confidence as they learned ways to read and respond to literature. Tom never seemed to love the books, but he did the work, took the tests, and wrote the response papers.
At some point in the year, Tom’s mom and I discussed the possibility of having him listen to books on tape, as she was able to find a recording of every novel at the library. I said it was fine and asked that she have him follow along with the written version simultaneously, if at all possible.
Tom’s outdoor chores lessened during winter, making it easier to keep up with the reading assignments. As the school year wound down, however, snows melted and work on the farm ramped up. Tom’s mom said he was out on the tractor early most mornings again, revving up the vintage Farmall H he’d restored by hand. She had to nag him to get his schoolwork done. “He’s got senioritis bad, ” she said. “He just wants to be done with this school year and graduate.”
“Reassure him he’s on the home stretch. We only have one more novel, and it’s a much easier read than some of the other books we tackled this year.”
That afternoon I introduced To Kill a Mockingbird. As with all the books, I tried to offer context and enthusiasm. Spring distracted all the students, not just Tom, its siren song wooing them outside to sunshine and greening grass. I worried they would skim it. At the end of class, I revealed my year-long secret. “Oh, you guys…I really, really hope you love it!”
I paced the reading so they had a few weeks to read and discuss. On one of our last Tuesdays, Tom’s mom pulled me aside at lunch.
“Normally Tom’s the first to come down for breakfast, but the other day he was late. It was so unusual because he’s in a hurry to get out to the fields.”
“On the tractor, I know.”
“Yes! So I called up the stairs, but he didn’t answer. I looked out at the field where I thought he’d be working, but didn’t see the tractor out there. That’s when I really started to panic, worried where he could be. I phoned my husband’s cell to see if Tom was with him in some other part of the farm, but he said no. Then I got scared. I called for him again and then ran up to his room and knocked on his bedroom door.”
She started to tear up. “He said to come in. When I opened the door, he was lying on his bedroom floor with his headphones on—that’s why he couldn’t hear me calling for him. I asked what he was doing, and he said he was reading the book for class. He got so into the story, he couldn’t stop. He kept reading past what you assigned for the week—he read the entire book that day, because he wanted to know how it ended.”
She shook her head. “Ann, nothing keeps him from his tractor. In all these years I couldn’t get him interested in books or reading, but there he was, on the floor of his bedroom, late to his chores because he couldn’t stop reading!”
The other day I tried to track down my American Literature binder, to find the final assignment for class that year. I couldn’t dig up my materials, so I tried to remember if it was a paper or a test or something else. When I closed my eyes and thought back, I saw the chalk pastel of two tractors parked side by side in a barn lot—and a high school senior with headphones in his ears, a book in his hands.
Photo by Don O’Brien. Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Ann Kroeker, writing coach and co-author of On Being a Writer: 12 Simple Habits for a Writing Life that Lasts.
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How to Read a Poem uses images like the mouse, the hive, the switch (from the Billy Collins poem)—to guide readers into new ways of understanding poems. Anthology included.
“I require all our incoming poetry students—in the MFA I direct—to buy and read this book.”
—Jeanetta Calhoun Mish
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Laura Brown says
I laughed (“tractor manuals” the second time).
I cried (with his mom’s heart in my chest).
Well done, teacher.
Ann Kroeker says
Thank you, Laura, and I think we might say, too, “Well done, Harper.”
SimplyDarlene says
this is such a great telling, ann! and he more than survived the side effects of reading non-tractor manuals 🙂
i wonder if he read Grapes of Wrath.
Ann Kroeker says
He might have listened to a recording of it! But what a negative view of tractors…
Megan Willome says
Ann, this is phenomenal. You have such a gift for teaching and writing. I especially love it for all the tractor-driving men in my family, most of whom are gone now.
Ann Kroeker says
I think I happened to choose well the last book. I see some of those students from time to time, and we still joke about some of the books and short stories we read that weren’t our favorites (but that I hope they at least appreciated). 🙂
Jody Lee Collins says
“because he couldn’t stop reading…”: Is there any higher praise???!! Mission accomplished, Ms. Kroeker.
Ann Kroeker says
I wonder if he ever listens to audiobooks, now that he’s an adult working full time on the farm?
Lisa Phillips says
Goodness. This story. Harper captured me when I was twelve In the same year, I learned to drive a tractor.
Tom was blessed to have such a caring teacher.
Ann Kroeker says
Lisa, I love that your story converges with tractors and mockingbirds, too!
Glynn says
The impact a teacher can have is immeasurable. My ninth grade English teacher — Miss Joann Roark with her Alabama accent — taught us (among other things) Great Expectations by Dickens. She was teaching a classroom of boys — 14-year-old boys — and most of us were memerized. I can still remember the discussion in a room full of young teenage boys about Miss Havisham’s wedding cake.
Ann Kroeker says
Way to go Miss Roark! I”ve found that young-ish students struggle to sustain interest in Dickens, so a book like Great Expectations needs an enthusiastic teacher to have a chance of sustaining their interest–which is exactly what you had. You’ve written about your teachers before, and it sounds like you got a lot who loved literature and poetry. If they could see you now, they’d be so pleased!
Charity Singleton Craig says
Ann – This was riveting. I was like Tom, sucked into the story and unable to leave it before getting to the end. I suspect most people who say they don’t like reading just haven’t been swept away like this, transported to another time and place, removed from reality by the narrow width of book. Well done, friend, on so many levels.
Ann Kroeker says
Swept away. Maybe instead of the goal of appreciating literature or loving literature, I should have aimed for that–find a book that sweeps each student away. Thanks for sharing your own book love, Charity.
L. L. Barkat says
I’m glad you ended up writing this. I realize I miss this kind of work from you. Telling stories is your thing.
Favorite part: the tractor riff, when you were researching “what Tom likes” and “what Tom reads.”
I think it’s also interesting that because you took his artwork at face value, he was able to take your task (reading) to heart. At least that’s how it seems to have potentially happened. Makes me want to say, as always, that art is an opportunity… and more classrooms should make space for it.
Ann Kroeker says
LL, thanks for the opportunity and invitation! I swear that’s exactly how the conversations went. When the sister said exactly the same thing as the mom, I knew this would be a challenge.
After that first year, the co-op gained a new family and that mom ended up teaching literature. They shifted me over to focus on teaching writing (composition and creative writing), so I never got to experiment much with assignments after the year with Tom. I’m really glad I gave a variety of response assignments, including something with art. We did it at least once more, though I can’t remember the book.
I probably should have used art as a prompt more often in the writing classes.
Rick Maxson says
Ann, you are a specially gifted teacher and writer as evidenced by this story. I think some children measure the worth of trying something by the lengths their teachers are willing to “tune-in” to them, to see why they view the world as they do and what is in their world, as you did with Tom.
Thanks for sharing this.
Ann Kroeker says
I think the most effective thing I brought to the classroom was my own book love. Plus, perhaps, my animated personality. At least I kept everyone awake.
Callie Feyen says
We are reading To Kill a Mockingbird in my 8th grade classroom (we start it this Tuesday), and I saw my students’ faces as I read your piece. I hope what happened to Tom happens to my students.
Also, I love the Scarlett Letter project! I may have to steal that. 🙂
L. L. Barkat says
I highly recommend letting them listen to the Sissy Spacek version of the book as part of what you do. My non-reader daughter was rapt. (As were we readers, who hadn’t intended to listen but couldn’t pull ourselves away.)
http://sites.msdwt.k12.in.us/rdrum/to-kill-a-mockingbird-audio-files/
Ann Kroeker says
What a wonderful resource!
Marilyn Yocum says
Totally enjoyed this, Ann!
Ann Kroeker says
So good to see you here, Marilyn! And thank you.
Dena Dyer says
Ann, I loved this. Right now in the 9th/10th grade lit/grammar class at our co-op, I have them reading “The Diary of Anne Frank.” One of my very reluctant readers said he is enjoying it. (He said it’s much easier to understand than “The Scarlet Letter,” which we went through together last year!)
I found a wonderful list of book response projects online last year (love all the online resources that are out there, including the ones here) and there are projects for every type of learner. Many of them are art-based. I have them do one in the spring and one in the fall for a novel of their choice, which they read on their own. It’s always so wonderful to see what the kids come up with. They surprise and delight me with their creativity and varied responses. 🙂
Thanks for telling this story. You are so gifted! I bet your students love having you.
Ann Kroeker says
You have tapped into some wonderful opportunities for kids to express their appreciation and understanding of literature, Dena. I’m delighted to hear how you are opening the door for students to express their ideas in a variety of ways! They are going to LOVE their class with you!
I see some of the students from time to time at a graduation party or similar event, and some will tell me things they recall from that class. If you assign a project they love, that they dedicate time to because they want to do a good job and make meaningful connections, the students carry the memory of that assignment with them (and the story). For many, that’s the birth of book love.
I hope you have a wonderful year giving kids that gift!
lynn__ says
Wow, Ann, what a great story…you inspire me as a home-schooling mom to boys who love tractors…no small feat you accomplished!
Ann Kroeker says
Lynn, I hope you find the right books to woo your son. That in combination with your love of literature will do more than you imagine.
Ann Kroeker says
Also, in retrospect, I think we could have read Grapes of Wrath and he could have engaged with that section defending tractors, fired up that they were considered monsters. I could have thrown some Wendell Berry at him, too, to see how he’d respond to the Luddite perspective. You could have some interesting discussions about progress and the era of mechanization and industry.