“In the Common Core era, we have all begun to adhere to a shift toward close and careful reading of complex texts. We expect students to think more deeply about the texts they are reading, from the “zoomed out” ideas of overall structure, organization, and theme to the very “zoomed in” details such as the effect a particular word choice has on tone and meaning in a sentence. We are teaching student [sic] that a lot can be gained by lingering over a particular text, or section of a text, and rereading sections that are confusing or they believe to be important.” The key word in the last sentence: rereading.

Anyone who follows this column knows libraries well. So I ask, can you point to a nonfiction passage that you have praised because it rewards rereading? So often when we promote a nonfiction title we stress that it goes down easy. We commend it because it’s browsable, meaning that it’s not necessary to read it through. Perhaps we applaud its fun facts—or because it’s a page-turner, or because it reads like a novel, or we couldn’t put it down. Indeed if a nonfiction title has unfamiliar terminology we extol its glossary and definitions, and we criticize it if we fear it will be too challenging for its intended audience.

Notice what we are actually saying: that nonfiction text should be quick and easy; it should not demand that readers slow down and return to it in order to winkle out its deeper meanings. To use outdated terminology, it’s good for reports when students can snap up the information at a glance, and it’s a pleasure read when they can zoom through it.

And yet the Common Core informs us—in the standards, and now, clearly, in the assessments—that students, from the third grade on up, need to dig in, to read purposefully, to read closely, and often, to reread nonfiction passages. We have long practiced this approach with fiction–it takes no effort to find the works of William Shakespeare or Emily Dickinson or commentaries on or critiques of them. Newer  versions or graphic interpretations of classic fiction titles are often available to help students comprehend these works. What we need to ask ourselves is, what tools do we have as educators to help students and colleagues prepare for the careful reading of nonfiction?

But, back to my question–can you point to a single book, a paragraph, or a chapter in a nonfiction book that you can highlight as rewarding rereading? And don’t point to primary sources–sure, those are great, but teachers don’t need help finding Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail.” They need to find passages that complement a study of that brilliant essay, passages that are worthy of reexamination. To help our students and colleagues, we must begin by examining our own reading, we must consider our knowledge of the books on our shelves and in our ebook collections, and the resources in the databases we access.

The comments on the first round of New York State ELA Common Core testing suggests that the tests themselves must be improved. That gives us time to sharpen our ability to prepare students and teachers to meet the Common Core standards—starting with the challenge of nonfiction rereading.

Downed tree on the way to New Canaan Library, CT.

The day after Hurricane Sandy, my wife and I walked around our town. We’d been fortunate. Even though a fallen tree blocked our street, with every sort of power line beneath it, we had power and water and even TV and Internet. Our house was filled with neighbors charging their cell phones and craving hot coffee.

As we picked our way past trees and police tape and fallen wires, we saw home after home darkened, trees upended across yards, porches, and roofs. We finally reached my 92-year-old mother, who was trapped in her cold, powerless home, and my mother-in-law, who was even more imprisoned in an apartment with neither power nor running water. I’m sure you’ve all had similar experiences or have seen images such as these, and far worse.

The storm brought change. We all also saw President Obama and New Jersey Governor Christie work together—an image of what our nation could be and should be. And that brings me to the main point of this column. I believe that students in every school in America should address the following question: Are human actions changing our climate? And if they are, how? What can we do about it?

We’re living amidst wild nature. Is that due to climate change? What could be a more perfect Common Core question? What could be more central to our lives, and our students’ futures? To address these questions, kids need to use science, history, economics, ecology, biology, math, and social action—they can read dystopian novels such as Paolo Bacigalupi’s Ship Breaker (Little, Brown, 2010) or M. T. Anderson’s Feed (Candlewick, 2002). These are questions on which experts disagree. That’s perfect. We’re not preaching to our students, we are engaging them in answering a question that’s as central to their generation as civil rights was to mine. Why should schools focus on anything else? Students will learn every required skill, but not as textbook abstractions, rather as the central issues facing us, all of us, right now and in the future.

I urge you, readers, make the case to your school. Or, if the teachers and administration are too pressed by tests to add a new unit, start a display in your library: Is human-induced climate change leading to catastrophic weather? Include books, print-outs from websites and magazines, and ads. (The New York Times has a fine set of learning resources about Sandy.) Then invite kids to add their notes, comments, and questions. Build it and they will come—and you’ll be the agent asking the key questions that must be asked… and answered.