I grew up in the 1960s and ’70s when reading was popular. People carried their paperback books on them all the time and shared titles with pride. I was rarely without a book; my walks to and from elementary school were spent reading Nancy Drew, while keeping an eye out for rogue dips and cracks in the sidewalk.
It’s different today. Kids brag about not having read a book “in years” and tease the ones who have. Attempts to impress upon them the value or pleasures of reading draw mockery. Of course it would; people don’t miss something they never knew.
I’m sitting with my 10-year-old therapy client, a shy and anxious boy whose disdain for sports and love of reading made him the perfect target for elementary school teasing.
“I know some boys who hide their books when they bring them to school,” I said, suspecting that he did this himself.
“That’s what I do!” he exclaimed, confirming my suspicions. “I hide my reading books in my book bag so no one sees them!” Nathan seemed relieved to find out he wasn’t the only kid who hid his books. The sad part about this, however, is that because these boys were all concealing their love of reading, none of them knew the others existed.
This is a different issue from just wanting to fit in. It’s kids learning that letting people see their authentic selves can end up being a social liability. And for boys who aren’t particularly athletic, the social price of being smart or loving books can be even higher, because in many communities a boy who doesn’t play sports and who loves to read finds himself violating two unwritten rules about what boys are supposed to want to do.
One of my sons was reading at the 10th-grade level in fifth grade. Then he went to middle school, and being neither an athlete nor a “popular” kid, Jake chose to preserve whatever social capital he had by jettisoning anything about himself that didn’t align with the suburban middle school male ideal. That meant swapping books for video games and the like. Thankfully, Jake recovered; he’s now an extraordinary English and language arts middle school teacher whose love of literature is contagious—a lovely irony.
So what if it’s your kid who’s suppressing his genuine interests because they threaten his standing among peers? Here are some conversation starters you can use to begin a discussion with him about this:
Conversation Starters for Parents
- Introduce the idea of social pressure. Introduce the topic of “social cultures” at home in language your young son can understand. Ask him whether it’s cool or not cool to be smart in his school. Tell him you’ve heard that some boys in middle school think it’s not cool to be smart or to like reading and try to hide it from their classmates. Ask him if he ever felt like hiding how much he knew about a topic, or how well he had studied for an exam. The purpose here isn’t to resolve the problem in that moment, but rather to embark on a dialogue with your son that can be carried through over time.
- Use a hypothetical example that feels less personal. Consider telling him a story about a kid who was really good at chess but was embarrassed to let anyone at school know. He wouldn’t even play on the school’s chess team! Ask him if he knows of anyone in his school who has done something like that. What would he do if he was really good at chess? Would he let other kids know or keep it a secret?
- Normalize the behavior so your son doesn’t feel singled out. Some boys downplay their intelligence when they’re in front of their friends. If you think your son might be doing something like this, think about how you can introduce the topic without him becoming defensive. If you start right off by asking him if he hides how smart he is from his friends, he could feel criticized or embarrassed. But by first “normalizing” the behavior, for example, by mentioning you’ve heard that a lot of boys worry about looking too smart in front of their friends, you’ll be making it easier for him to talk about it himself.
- Respond to denial without arguing or pressing for an admission. It’s possible your son will respond by saying that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, that nobody pretends to be dumber than they are. Just respond with a casual shrug and something like, “Yeah, I know, it sounds weird, but I know that in some friend groups kids get teased for studying or reading ‘too much.” Then let it rest. That way, he’ll understand you’re not trying to prove you’re right or “get” him to change or agree with you. People need time to make those types of changes anyway; it’s not really a “decision” you make. All you’re doing now is introducing an idea he may never have considered: that he might be hiding something valuable about himself in order to avoid being singled out, which is how change can often begin in someone who wasn’t looking for it in the first place.
