"If We Know, We Must Do Better: The Literacy Crisis We Cannot Normalize"
A recent viral video featuring Darius Cooks, who spent time teaching in a Houston classroom, sparked a conversation that educators, parents, and communities cannot afford to ignore.
The assignment appeared simple. High school seniors were asked to respond in only a couple of sentences. Yet what unfolded revealed something much deeper than the difficulty of an assignment. It revealed significant gaps in reading comprehension, writing, and the ability of some students to communicate their understanding.
The conversation quickly grew beyond one classroom. The superintendent of Houston Independent School District was asked to address what had been shown.
His response?
“It was no surprise.”
That statement stopped me.
Not because I was surprised by the literacy challenges being revealed, but because I found myself asking:
If we know this is happening, why are we still here?
This Is Bigger Than One Classroom
As a certified educator, I have experienced both sides of the educational equation.
Early in my teaching career, I worked with students in economically challenged communities where circumstances outside of the classroom often affected what happened inside of it.
I saw grandparents raising grandchildren.
I saw single parents trying to provide for their families.
I saw children whose fathers were incarcerated.
I saw students living with grandparents who depended upon them for help.
I even had students who would miss school because when their grandparents received their Social Security checks, the children went with them to purchase groceries for the household.
These were not children who lacked intelligence.
They were not children without dreams.
They were children navigating circumstances that could make learning more difficult.
And that distinction matters.
Literacy Gaps Don't Happen in a Vacuum
When we talk about academic performance, particularly among African American students living in economically challenged communities, we must be willing to talk about inequity.
Educational inequity can look like limited access to books.
It can look like inadequate literacy resources.
It can look like schools without viable libraries.
It can look like limited academic enrichment.
It can look like families struggling to provide basic necessities.
It can look like children carrying adult responsibilities at home.
And sometimes, it looks like a student sitting in a high school classroom who has spent years falling further and further behind in reading.
By the time that child reaches high school, the gap can be enormous.
But we cannot look at that teenager and simply say, “They should know this by now.”
We have to ask: What happened along the way?
I Didn't Just Teach Them. I Loved Them.
As a young teacher, I quickly learned that sometimes being a teacher meant becoming much more than the person standing at the front of the classroom.
I became an encourager.
I became a trusted adult.
I became someone who cared about what happened to my students beyond the classroom.
There were times when I purchased clothing for students because I understood that how a child feels about themselves can affect how they show up in the world.
I created care packages with deodorant, body sprays, and other necessities—not because those things were in my job description, but because I wanted my students to feel cared for, confident, and worthy.
Sometimes before I could teach the lesson, I had to help the child feel safe enough to receive it.
And something beautiful happened.
Trust opened the door to learning.
During the years when our students were taking the TAKS assessment, approximately 98% of my students passed.
I don't share that number to boast.
I share it because it reminds me that circumstances do not have to determine outcomes.
Those students were capable.
They needed someone to believe in them, challenge them, teach them, and sometimes simply remind them that they were GREAT.
Parents: Start With Reading
So what can we do?
We can start early.
Read. Read. Read.
Parents, grandparents, caregivers—please encourage your children to read from an early age.
And don't limit reading to school assignments.
Read stories.
Read biographies.
Read magazines.
Read newspapers.
Read poetry.
Read fiction.
Read nonfiction.
Let children choose books that interest them.
And most importantly, engage with them while they read.
Ask:
"I wonder what Sarah was thinking when that happened?"
"What do you think is going to happen next?"
"Why do you think the character made that decision?"
"What would you have done?"
"What did you learn?"
Let children make predictions.
Let them ask questions.
Let them explore.
Let them imagine.
Because comprehension is more than being able to pronounce words on a page.
It is understanding.
It is questioning.
It is connecting.
It is analyzing.
It is communicating.
And it is imagining.
"GIVE A BOOK, GROW A READER"
A book may seem like a small gift.
But for a child, it can be an invitation.
An invitation to explore.
An invitation to imagine.
An invitation to learn.
An invitation to see something beyond what they currently know.
When we give a book, we aren't simply giving paper and ink.
We are giving access.
We are giving language.
We are giving knowledge.
We are giving imagination.
And sometimes, we are giving a child a glimpse of a future they had not yet imagined for themselves.
That is why I believe literacy must become more than a school initiative.
It must become a community movement.
I have also seen what can happen when organizations come together around the same purpose.
Through Texas Great Phenoms, our efforts to empower young African American girls extend beyond scholarships and mentorship. Literacy is part of that mission because we understand that strong readers become stronger communicators, advocates, students, leaders, and professionals.
Our collaboration with Old Navy provided another meaningful opportunity to support young readers and strengthen our literacy efforts.
That partnership reminded me of something I already knew:
We don't have to solve every problem alone.
Businesses can help.
Schools can help.
Churches can help.
Nonprofits can help.
Parents can help.
Educators can help.
Community leaders can help.
And when we all bring what we have to the table, our children receive something much greater than any one organization could provide alone.
I remember working in a school where there was technically a library, but it was not functioning as the kind of library that could cultivate a love for reading.
The space was primarily being used for other instructional purposes.
There weren't children routinely selecting books.
There wasn't the opportunity to explore genres and discover authors.
There wasn't the experience of learning how to check out a book and simply enjoy reading for the sake of reading.
As a tutor, I used that space to work with students who were struggling in reading.
That experience stayed with me.
Because having a room called a library is not the same as giving children meaningful access to literacy.
Children need books.
They need choices.
They need exposure.
They need adults who can say, “Have you read this one?”
They need opportunities to discover that they love mysteries, biographies, science, history, poetry, fantasy, sports, or stories about people who look like them.
Because there is a world inside a book.
And sometimes a child cannot physically travel beyond their neighborhood, their circumstances, or their current reality.
But through reading?
Their mind can travel anywhere.
I keep returning to the superintendent's words:
“It was no surprise.”
Maybe it shouldn't be a surprise to those of us who have been in classrooms.
But it should never become something we accept.
Familiar does not mean acceptable.
If we know children are entering high school without the literacy skills they need, then intervention cannot wait until high school.
If we know children are struggling to read, we must intervene early.
If we know families are struggling economically, we must look at the resources surrounding those families.
If we know schools need stronger literacy resources, we must invest in them.
And if we know that students in underserved communities are experiencing educational disparities, we must have the courage to name the inequity and the commitment to do something about it.
This is not about blaming teachers.
It is not about blaming parents.
It is not about blaming children.
It is about accepting responsibility for the village.
Plant the Seed
To every parent raising a young African American child:
Please don't underestimate the power of literacy.
Read to them.
Read with them.
Take them to the library.
Give them books.
Let them see you reading.
Talk to them about what you're reading.
Ask questions.
Listen to their answers.
Build their vocabulary.
Encourage their curiosity.
Celebrate their questions.
And when they struggle, don't shame them.
Help them.
Find the gap.
Fill the gap.
And keep going.
Because one day, that seed will matter.
One day, that child could become the student who reads with confidence.
The student who writes the two sentences.
Then the paragraph.
Then the essay.
Then the speech.
Then the college application.
Then the business plan.
Then the book.
One day, the reader becomes the leader.
And perhaps that child will become the person who builds a better community for the generation coming behind them.
So let Literacy Week happen every week!
READ. READ. READ.
Plant the seed.
Nurture the reader.
Build the thinker.
Strengthen the communicator.
And give our children the opportunity to experience the GREAT that is already inside of them.
Because literacy is not simply about passing a test.
Literacy gives children a voice.
And when we give our children a voice, we give them greater power to shape their future.
-Alfredia D. Lee, M.Ed.
The GREAT Coach
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