The Sound of Home

So many people on Substack are saying how they have found so many unexpected connections, how wonderful it is to connect with real people. Maybe it’s just my nature, but I am wary. What bothers me are the Notes that say “I just started my Substack account last week and I already have 1,000 subscribers. I love this place.”

Really? 1,000 subscribers in one week?

This is kind of like High School. Are your subscribers actual people? Are you writing something that says, “this is me?” Are you connecting with people or just here for the “likes”?

I am just going to dip my big toe in for a bit and see what happens.

Most of what I have read and listened to says post Notes 2-3 a day, comment on Notes, engage with the community, subscribe to similar accounts, re-stack Articles. That is a lot, and it’s a lot of time on my phone. I am trying to spend less time on my phone. This is not supposed to be a full-time job. How is this all possible???

I listened to a podcast about growing my Substack, called Write Build Scale. The host said that there is no reason for your account to be a “how to”. Everyone in the world can google “how to” and AI will spit out several directions on how to “insert activity here”. What your account needs is “How I”.

I looked up how to read to your child on AI. Here’s what I got:

Well, this is certainly helpful!

I have been around children all my life. I babysat every weekend in my teen years. I babysat in college to earn extra money. My college summers were spent babysitting every day. I earned more money than I would if I was working at a bookstore. I still keep in touch with several of the families that I babysat.

Reading to my charges was second nature to me. It got them to quiet down for a bit. I didn’t need anyone to tell me to hold them close, ask them questions, or use silly voices. I just did.

At the same time, there is something inherent in all of us, looking for a connection, even as babies. Wanting someone to hold us, to comfort us, to care. If you happen to find a small child looking for someone to hold him, looking for someone to care, pick up a book and read it to him. He may not remember the book, but he’ll remember the comfort and safety that he felt while you were reading to him.

I am currently working with a little boy, Sam, who is about to turn 6. He and I have been working together for several months. I wanted to catch him up and prevent the ‘summer slide’ before he started Kindergarten. And, he has improved by leaps and bounds. I am so proud of him, and more importantly he is proud of himself.

When we first started, we talked about all the things he was interested in. LEGO Ninjago was first. I went to the library and got as many books as I could find. After we finish our work, we sit together on the bean bag chair and look at the books – I was able to find a “directory” of all the Ninjago characters. He already knew everything that was in the book, but he was able to see the words connected to his favorite characters.

Next was Bears. There are a lot of books about bears, backyard bears, bears in Alaska, and all the different types of bears. We did Bears for months, and I was able to throw in the Bear books by Karma Wilson, illustrated by Jane Chapman. Those were some of my own kids’ favorite picture books. And because AI is always listening, I found numerous Instagram reels of live bears. Throw in Fat Bear Week and Sam and I were in heaven.

As we are now in October and Sam is going to be an army man for Halloween, can you guess what books he wants? Yup. I’m off to the library this morning to get Army books.

One of the children I babysat when I was in college, Mac, is still in my life. I stayed friends with his mother and when he and his wife moved close to me, we got in touch. My daughter babysat for his children. Talk about full circle.

I remember the little boy – who was a holy terror when I took care of him, and he happily admits it now. When I put him to bed and tried to calm him down, reading was the only trick I had, and it worked.

A few years ago, he was at his parents’ house cleaning out some of his childhood things and he found a children’s book of silly poems.

On the first page was an inscription, “To Mac, Happy Birthday! Love, Cathlyn”.

His mom had kept the book for many years, and now he wanted to keep it for himself. He sent me a picture. It made my day. I don’t think I ever imagined that a book I gave a little boy for his birthday would still be in his life decades later. But there it was, a little piece of our story that neither of us had forgotten.

When I was teaching 1st grade in Harlem, my mother was teaching 1st grade at a private school. We had different schedules, and very different students. On her breaks, she would come visit my classroom and read the children a story – and tell them what I was like when I was a 1st grader. I was always so amazed at how she could command the room. When she read to the kids, you could hear a pin drop. They were enthralled with her and the story.

When my own children were little and we read, they weren’t just listening to the story, they were listening to me, to the voice that meant home. Years later, when I was still reading to them, they equated reading with the feeling of home.

On Thanksgiving Day 2018 we celebrated 2,000 days of reading aloud. My daughter made book themed cupcakes. We had our regular Thanksgiving dinner with about 20 people, and our guests got to celebrate with us. This nightly ritual that was just ours, we were now sharing with our children’s grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Two thousand nights of listening to my voice, and we kept going for another two thousand!

I never had a script for this.

It’s like Tom Selleck’s character in Three Men and a Baby as he is reading an article about a bloody boxing match to the baby “It doesn’t matter what I read. It’s the tone you use. She doesn’t understand the words anyway.” He was holding the baby close, looking at her as he read, smiling, offering her comfort.

They didn’t have AI when that movie was made, how on earth would he have known how to do it?

Maybe some things don’t require instructions. Maybe we already know more than we think we do.