Recent articles in The Atlantic and Teen Vogue highlight a troubling trend: College students are increasingly disengaged from reading, prompting a search for scapegoats.

From private research universities to small liberal arts colleges, professors have expressed frustration over students’ declining ability to tackle course readings. They’ve had to reduce the number of pages assigned for homework due to dwindling reading stamina and enthusiasm for “academic” texts.

But who truly deserves the blame?

A significant portion of the criticism is directed at technological devices because the distractions these devices present can severely affect learning. Research has shown that cellphones, tablets and laptops enable students to indulge in distractions, prompting several states to pass legislation aimed at banning cellphones to improve students’ mental health and focus.

Others point fingers at standardized testing — and, by extension, K-12 teachers. Standardized tests dominate educational priorities, influencing national and state policy, school rankings and resource distribution. Although many teachers recognize that these tests do little to enhance classroom learning, they remain a central focus. Because of this, some teachers feel obligated to prioritize test preparation, which often favors superficial reading comprehension over deep, sustained engagement with texts and ideas. Consequently, students may find themselves skimming to answer questions rather than appreciating the transformative power of literature, all in pursuit of a passing score on a high-stakes exam.

Teachers are not to blame for this predicament.

When I was an English teacher in Florida and Georgia — at-will employment states in which an employer can fire an employee for any reason, with or without cause or notice — I understood that improving student test scores was crucial for job security. Despite my passion for reading and my efforts to cultivate literary engagement in my classroom, I was acutely aware that failure to show adequate yearly progress could jeopardize my position. In many states, test scores are linked to merit pay and job stability, placing immense pressure on teachers to deliver results.

While it’s easy to point fingers, we must recognize the many layers to this conversation.

In many articles about students’ reading abilities, there is an overemphasis on students’ disengagement from canonical texts — those traditionally deemed “classics” that all students should read. Works such as “Wuthering Heights,” “Jane Eyre,” “The Iliad,” “Great Expectations” and “Pride and Prejudice” are often heralded as crucial for understanding the human condition and appreciating humanity’s greatest achievements. While these texts can offer valuable insights, they predominately feature white authors and white protagonists, suggesting that only certain humans are worthy of appreciation.

When the canon is prioritized, contemporary, diverse and young adult literature, especially works by and about minoritized people, are often overlooked. By emphasizing a narrow selection of texts, we can alienate students who might connect more deeply with stories that reflect their own experiences. By spotlighting white-centric literature from centuries ago, we risk making reading feel irrelevant to students’ lives, further diminishing their motivation to read.

Certainly, technology plays a role in the time students devote to reading, but can we truly blame them for being drawn in? Social media algorithms curate personalized content connected to people’s interests, contrasting sharply with our approach to selecting class texts. Schools, for numerous reasons, tend to favor standardized reading experiences, often ignoring students’ diverse interests and backgrounds.

It’s no wonder students aren’t reading complete novels; we’ve categorized the books young people love as not “real” reading. Our educational culture has prioritized test scores over meaningful reading engagement. We’ve communicated that reading matters only when it can be dissected for a test, while students’ interests are sidelined.

There are no official statistics tracking the number of complete novels assigned in high school. But reports indicate that assignments requiring students to read full-length novels are becoming less common, and federal data shows teens are reading less than they did a decade ago. Researchers have also noted a decline in young people reading books for pleasure, a trend that continues into adulthood. So, yes, reading in the U.S. is in a state of emergency. Yes, college students — and everyone else — are reading fewer novels.

However, if we want to point fingers, we should start with ourselves. We’ve spent so much time blaming each other, young people and books when we could’ve been suggesting solutions.

We could advocate for a reduced emphasis on standardized testing and push for increased funding to help schools acquire texts that align with student interests. We could champion diverse and contemporary literature that reflects the lives and experiences of all students. We could call for better funding for teacher education programs to equip educators with the tools they need to match students with texts that might foster a love of reading.

The responsibility lies with all of us — educators, policymakers and communities — to create an environment where every student feels inspired to explore the vast world of literature, even if their reading journey occurs outside of our classrooms.

____

(Stephanie R. Toliver is an assistant professor of curriculum and instruction at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and a public voices fellow with the OpEd Project.)

___

©2024 Chicago Tribune. Visit at chicagotribune.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.