Reading is Not for the Weak of Will

by Roger B. Rueda, PhD

Let us be clear: Reading is not a joke. It is not an elective activity for those who finish their TikTok videos early. Reading is a moral obligation, a civic duty, and quite frankly, a litmus test for intellectual survival. And yet, here we are—inside institutions that have turned libraries into air-conditioned decoration and textbooks into coasters for milk tea.

The culture we must impose is one of reverence. Yes, I said reverence—the same way monks bowed before scripture, students must bow their heads before paperbacks and hardbounds. Every school must transform itself into a republic of readers: no phone before 50 pages, no screen before Steinbeck, no scrolling unless you can name all characters in El Filibusterismo and cite Rizal’s political allegory in context.

The behavior must be militant. Silence in the library must be enforced like martial law—but with more decency and less torture. Students caught faking reading during DEAR time (Drop Everything And Read) shall not be scolded—they shall be publicly quizzed. If you claim to be reading To Kill a Mockingbird, then explain Atticus Finch’s moral compass in your own words. No comprehension? Off you go. Your penalty: recite the plot of three NVM Gonzalez stories before you can log back in to your LMS.

Practices should be sacred. Reading journals—not summaries, but reflections. Socratic circles—not mindless recitation. Book clubs—not to discuss who likes whom, but to wage ideological war over the author’s worldview. Annotated texts should be bloodied with ink. Highlighters should dry up from usage. And reading logs should be policed like airport customs—no contraband summaries allowed.

What tests shall be given? Close reading exams. One sentence, one hour. Find every nuance, every layer, every comma that cries. Students must defend their interpretation in writing and in public. Reading is not passive consumption—it is mental sparring. If you cannot explain Animal Farm without citing actual political regimes, you fail. If your idea of literary analysis is saying “I like the story because it is nice,” then please: just enroll in Kindergarten.

And what of the jesters? The students who treat reading as optional, who laugh during silent reading periods, who use novels as phone stands—let them be warned. Ignorance is not funny. It is pitiful. If you do not read, you do not think. If you do not think, you are a pawn of the loudest voice in the room. And one day, when the nation is again on the verge of collapse because citizens cannot read between the lies—do not blame fake news. Blame the 17-year-old who said, “Why should I read if there’s a movie version?”

Compassion, yes—but only for the struggling, never for the smug. We shall tutor the slow, applaud the persistent, and uplift the hesitant. But for the arrogant, the careless, the willfully illiterate—may your diploma be printed on unread pages, for it is useless.

Reading is a discipline. Reading is defiance. Reading is a requirement—not just for school, but for citizenship.

So, to those who scoff at books, here is my message, with love and loathing: Read. Or rot.