Sky The Blue Fairy

My daughter has to read aloud for fifteen minutes every night to an adult as part of her second-grade homework.  Or,  I suppose I've assumed it has to be an adult, she could read to a friend just as well.  It's the process of reading aloud that's important.   We've used the opportunity to have her read to anyone who's stopped in for dinner or to visit including my parents, my in-laws and Uncle Bob, who is visiting with us currently.

Each day we have to log what book she reads—including the author.   My daughter is insistent we write the author's name in the log and confirms we're spelling the name correctly.   On Monday, she read to me a book she wrote herself titled, "Cultures of Kindness."  I didn't think it was going to be very long or interesting, but I was wrong.

The all-school Cultures of Kindness event happened while I was out of town in Cancun with my friends and somehow I missed the book she'd written about her experiences during it—including tactile stickers to represent many of the things she wrote about.

But on the whole, she's been reading books she's brought home from school that are specifically for her reading level.   We have books from the state library for the blind, but they're either completely uncontracted, which is slower and longer to read, or they're fully contracted, using letter, word and symbol combinations she hasn't learned yet, causing them to be frustrating to read.

She's been reading a series of chapter books about different colored fairies.   She's very proud she's moved up to reading chapter books.   Not only is she reading them, but she's reading reasonably quickly.   Her fingers seem to fly over the page.  It's hard to fathom how her brain can discern dots speeding past her fingertips.   Uncle Bob asked her if she'd read the book before, she was reading so rapidly.

Tonight we talked about where those books come from, and the answer is complicated and goes to show how her education is custom-tailored just for her.   The book, Sky The Blue Fairy, is sent home in the compact, printed version from the publisher in a large container bag.  Inside the bag are also two large 11"x12" bound braille books containing the same content as the smaller printed book.  Uncle Bob asked tonight about the braille versions and where they came from.

And that answer is interesting because the content of those braille books is tailored just for my daughter.  it is neither uncontracted braille nor fully contracted braille but somewhere in the middle, containing only the contractions my daughter has learned thus far.  To build the custom printed books, my daughter's braillest downloads a version of the book that's been converted to be printed in braille from an online library (provided one exists).   Then she goes through the text, manually, and removes all the contractions my daughter doesn't yet know and replaces them with uncontracted braille.

It's a bit complicated to explain, and I hope I'm not getting this entirely wrong as I know Mrs. B., my daughter's braillest, reads this blog.   Contracted braille isn't like changing "hasn't" into "has not."   Contractions can be multiple things.  For instance, some words are shortened like "good" is represented by "gd."   Then there are single cells of braille that have no representation in our alphabet, such as the word "the," which has its own single character in braille.   There are also letter groups like "ch" or "st" or "ing" that are written as a single braille cell.

All of these shortcuts are done to reduce, or "contract" the braille, so the total volume of braille someone has to run their fingers over to read  is less.   There are about 180 contractions in Unified English Braille.  My daughter knows a good bit of the contractions, but not nearly all of them.   So Mrs. B goes through the book word by word and replaces anything my daughter doesn't yet know with the fully spelled out word.

Then she sends the modified file to a braille printer, known as an Embosser which prints out the custom version of the book for my daughter.  She binds the book with a cover and writes on it for us so we can read at a glance what the "sea of dots" is about and sends it home with my daughter.

And that's just for one book.  Soon my daughter will be able to read fully contracted braille, but for now, that's the amount of work that's done just so my daughter can read about Sky The Blue Fairy.   I think this is the fourth colored fairy book Mrs. B. has done for her.   So thank you, Mrs. B., for all you do.   My daughter is loving being able to read and has been particularly proud to read to us each night.

The Big Boy Update:  I don't know where my son and his sitter, Morgan, are going tomorrow, but he needs hiking shoes, a float, swimsuit, goggles, and a towel.  He smiled conspiratorially at me when I mentioned it tonight and said, "I think I might know."  We'll find out tomorrow when he gets home.   He really likes spending time with Morgan.   My daughter has been very cross; she's missed out on seeing her because of school.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Nana, Papa and Uncle Bob were at dinner here tonight.  In the end, when discussion about dessert came up, Uncle Bob said, "oh, I forgot, there are no second desserts in this house."  My daughter said in a bewildered voice, "what do you mean?  I've had four desserts before."