Editor’s note: This essay is an entry in Fordham’s 2025 Wonkathon, which asked contributors to answer this question: “What needs to happen next—at the state, district, and school levels—for the science of reading revolution to fulfill its promise and ensure that far more children learn to read well?” Learn more.
At Bellwether, I coach district leaders, principals, and teachers on improving reading instruction. A few weeks ago, I visited an eighth grade English classroom at a school we’re working with—one that is truly invested in research-backed approaches to teaching reading. The class was reading “Song of Myself.” Section 6 of the poem—my favorite—lay open on the table in front of each child, tantalizingly waiting. Class began with laboring through vocabulary words: dispositions, handkerchief, remembrancer, designedly. Students sat as stenographers, copying down the teacher’s thinking aloud about the first lines. On the edge of my seat, I waited for students to experience the majesty of the idea that “all goes onward and outward, nothing collapses.” And students never—NEVER—actually read section 6 of the poem.
I see similar scenes play out in K–12 classrooms with dispiriting frequency. They are cautionary tales for anyone (including me) who cares about making the science of reading stick. Amid the admirable focus on adapting the way we teach students HOW to read, particularly in the early grades, we can’t lose sight of everything else that’s required to grow students as lifelong readers. Decoding the words that other people have written is mostly a science. But fully appreciating those words is a uniquely human ability, one that is, at its deep heart’s core, an art. The science of reading taught us how children learn to read. The art of reading reminds us why we do. We need both.
Students must receive explicit instruction in reading foundational skills. Most states have made this mandate explicit and put correlative training dollars behind research-aligned curriculum and training. Students must also build knowledge across topics as they grapple with increasingly complex texts, and they must speak and write in response to those texts. The problem is, you can do all of that without ever asking kids to truly read. And there is a chasm between students spending 45 minutes a day with excerpted texts (most of which is read aloud by the teacher) and students reading an entire novel or memoir or play or poetry collection cover to cover. Reading a full book—an actual book—is a dimension of reading that’s key not just to academic success, but also to growth as humans.
Humans invented reading. We do language. Programmed from inception for spoken language, we had to create new neural pathways to evolve the art of reading. Let baser things devise / To die in dust; humans immortalized our species through the written word.
Through our singular focus on the components of how, we have lost sight of why we read in the first place. Like Icarus whose fall makes a splash quite unnoticed, we have forgotten what his wings were for. If kids aren’t taught to understand and appreciate art for art’s sake, they may learn to read, but they won’t learn to love it. They’ll know the words, but not the world they open. And so: We have lost the plot.
To fulfill the promise of the science of reading, states, districts, and schools must also reclaim the art of reading—ensuring that every child not only learns to decode and comprehend but also learns to love and live in books.
At the state level: Fund the full experience of reading, not just the mechanics.
Allocate textbook/materials funding that allows districts to purchase real books for classroom libraries and read-aloud sets, not just consumables or digital licenses. Dozens of studies show students comprehend and retain more from print than from screens. Moreover, the art of reading is a sensory experience. Physical books enable readers to feel the text—the weight of the art in their hands, the page-turning rhythm, the mental map of where ideas occur: this is the experience of reading that has people coming back for more.
States should also dedicate a portion of state literacy funding to revitalize school and classroom libraries. The science of reading begins with brain pathways, but it’s nourished by books—real, plentiful, high-interest books within every child’s reach.
At the district level: Adopt curriculum and training that honor both the science and the art.
Choose and adopt a curriculum that scopes for and empowers students to read books in full.
Require that high-quality instructional materials (HQIM) include explicit guidance on reading modalities: who reads, how often, and why. In many/most classes, teachers read aloud the majority of any Tier 1 texts or play an audio recording. Typically this is done with the best of intentions or considerations for below grade-level readers. And yet, this is counter-productive. Students must be centered as the readers.
Pair science-of-reading professional development with ongoing support for read-alouds, reading modalities and routines, discussion, and independent reading practices.
Build accountability systems that track not only foundational-skills outcomes but also access to rich and complex texts—number of books per classroom, time allocated for independent reading, etc.
At the school level: Create a culture where students are readers, not just decoders.
Establish daily teacher read-alouds at every grade. Let teachers drive the book selection from approved texts. Empower them to use read aloud to connect with students, share their interests, and delve into a wide range of topics.
Replace “consumables” and photocopies with physical books.
Ensure every student has daily time to read a self-selected print book at school. Celebrate wide, independent reading with displays, book talks, and peer recommendations—signals that reading isn’t just for tests, it’s for life.
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After decades of denying or ignoring the science, we are finally on the right track there. Now we must teach students to be readers—with books in their hands, curiosity in their hearts, and stories that remind them why words matter.
If you have read this far, I applaud you. You embraced your uniquely human ability to appreciate the art of the written word. And now I’m heading into a school to read with students. “—You come too.”
