What We Read to Our Children

I was recently digging through a box of books sent to me by my mom. After pulling out about a dozen items, I paused and smiled because there sat my almost pristine copy of Esther Forbes’s Johnny Tremain from almost forty years ago. I remember doing chores to earn the money to buy this book from Encore Books in Philadelphia. I loved the vivid cover with its bright yellow border and portrait of Johnny standing proudly with images of the Revolution behind him. I was immediately transported back to my teenage years and remembered just how much I treasured the book and the story many years ago. Johnny Tremain and its American origin story piqued my curiosity because I grew up in Philadelphia where history was inescapably around me; the ideas of America and the Revolution were everywhere I walked. Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell were regular places to me; I knew their stories and I was excited to read a story about the Revolution, which is exactly what Forbes wrote. I should note that Johnny Tremain takes place in Boston, not Philadelphia, but that didn’t matter because it was still a story about the Revolution. Johnny was so appealing to me because he was, like me, a young teen trying to make his way through a complex world. Through Johnny’s story—which involved figures like Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, the Sons of Liberty, and the events leading toward Lexington and Concord—the American story that I learned in Philadelphia became a living story. So, when I unexpectedly found my old copy of the book, I realized that I want to read the book again and do so with my son. While his understanding of the Revolution touches on New York, Williamsburg and Virginia, and a bit of Philadelphia, my son will nevertheless meet Johnny, Boston, and the Revolution. Finding Johnny Tremain in that box also made me think about something larger than the joy I will have reading it again with my son. We as a nation spent significant time talking about America’s 250th birthday and, for a moment, celebrating and thinking about the founding was everywhere. Next to the fireworks and celebrations, there was some discussion about the people and ideas that shaped the country. But only a few months later, sadly, most of this focus on our nation’s core ideas, values, and history seems to have faded. It would be a huge loss if America 250 arrived, generated some dialogue about the American experiment, and then we as a nation stopped thinking about who we are, what we value, and what makes this country different and still the envy of the world. This is where we have a choice about how we want to continue thinking about our nation, for we can embrace history or ignore it. For parents, we have the power and the privilege of socializing the next generation and choosing to teach them history. Children are not born knowing why Lexington and Concord mattered, what happened at Independence Hall, or why Americans have spent so much of our history arguing about liberty and equality. They have to learn these stories somewhere, and we can choose to teach our children the good and the bad. Certainly, schools play an important role and museums and historic sites do too. I have written before about putting history on walls, visiting historical places, and making the American past visible, but families have a powerful role here as well. One of the easiest things parents can do is think about the books we put in front of our children and what we read with them. Not every bedtime story should be a civics lesson; children should read fantasy, mysteries, and simply silly books. But among those books, we can still celebrate and teach the American story. Historical fiction can help a child imagine what it might have felt like to be in Boston as tensions with Britain and the kKing grew or to hear that fighting had begun at Lexington. Historical figures become real people and history comes alive. Johnny Tremain did this for me, and I remember this sense of discovery and connection to the past decades later; the story connected me to a history that was already around me growing up in Philadelphia and made it feel like something that belonged to me too. Now, decades later, I have the privilege of reading the exact same book with my son. I hope it opens his eyes in some of the same ways. America 250 gave us an occasion to celebrate the country, but I hope we do not stop there. For me, one small part of continuing that work of keeping the discussion about America’s ethos alive will begin with an old book.