Why Reading Fast is Overrated

Saturday Mornings were then Torturous.

Mother would have her day off. She would use this day to Discipline Us. 

1 hour Math Tutoring

1 hour Science Studying

1 hour Read Aloud

Repeated for her Four Children, each one dreading the end of the former's session - signaled by mother's Shrill Calling voice that she saved Just for Us, so we could not reasonably pretend to have not heard.

The Read Aloud session was Most Painstaking. Over the course of an hour, we would read perhaps just five to ten pages. Reading for Content, but more importantly, Reading for Language. And never, never for speed.

She would have us read a sentence, then she would repeat it, emphasizing each noun and each verb. And what did they mean? We weren't sure. So we would write down the "juicy" words and sentences in a notebook, define them, memorize them, appreciate them. We would learn.

Growing up in Pakistan, Mother was one of 8 children. 

Aware of surrounding poverty and illiteracy, and aware of her comparatively privileged life, she would never let knowledge to pass her without absorbing and analyzing its every aspect. Still, she takes incredible value in every word, every sentence, studying the infinite beauty in which authors seamlessly connect each idea to one cogent whole. She reads.  She re-reads. She writes. She re-reads the written. She memorizes, appreciates, learns, and connects. 

In this day and age, information is ubiquitous and infinitely more available than it was during my  mother's day and age. With all this information, more things slip than stick, enslaving our God-given drive for depth and meaning to the allure of More, Faster.

As a precursor to the science journalism that I will attempt in my upcoming posts, this post delineates some of my underlying goals of this blog - dedication, depth, and deliberation.

Maybe this blog is just a pathetic attempt to one day reach just half the level of depth that my mother has achieved. 

Time will Tell.