What Breaks My Heart About Early Literacy—and How We’re Changing It

There’s something that breaks my heart.
It’s when we, as a community, keep doing the same thing over and over again—and expect different results.

We pour more money into old programs and do more school assessments. We give out more books using outdated models. We build assessments that favor exposure over potential. And all the while, we expect children to somehow magically fall in love with reading.

Let’s pause. Let’s be honest.
We know better.
And if we know better, we should do better.

📚 The Little Boy Who Asked, “Why Am I Stupid?”

I’ll never forget the teacher who told me that every single year without fail, at least one student comes up to her and asks:

“Why am I stupid?”

That question has haunted me. Because we’re not talking about laziness or lack of intelligence. We’re talking about children who’ve had no access. No books in their homes. No one showing them which way is up. No exposure to the idea that they are capable.

But then we put them in school and expect them to perform well on a reading assessment on Day 1.

Of course they struggle.
Of course they feel shame.
Of course they say they hate reading—because humans don’t enjoy what they’re not good at.

It’s not their fault.
It’s our failure to design a system that meets them where they are.

🚀 From Book Deserts to Book Fairs

In the early days of my work, I focused on access. I built an organization in Charlotte, NC that collected gently-used books, sorted them using corporate volunteer power, and redistributed over 20,000 books a month to children living in identified book deserts.

It was incredible work. And it mattered.
But I started to notice something else.

We hosted free book fairs, and kids would walk through excited—until they weren’t. I heard one boy say, holding a free book in his hand:

“Thanks for the books, but I don’t like to read. These are going to look great sitting on my shelf collecting dust.”

That’s when I knew. We’d missed something big.

🔥 Representation Matters. So Does Embodiment.

Another issue? While plentiful, the books we gave out didn’t reflect the kids receiving them. Minority children would scan the tables and see almost no characters who looked like them.

We know that when kids don’t see themselves in books, they disconnect. They don’t just feel excluded from the story. They begin to believe they don’t belong in stories at all.

So, after stepping away from that organization, I took time to reflect, process, and design something new—something that filled the gap.

That’s how Living Libraries®The LiLi Key, and LiYo Literacy Yoga Fusion® were born.

🧘 The Reading Revolution We Need

We created:

  • LiYo Literacy Yoga Fusion® to help kids read with their whole bodies—not slumped in desks like it’s the 16th century
  • The LiLi Key book as a kinesthetic tool for identity, embodiment, and joy
  • LiBro Teca, a bold, bilingual character designed to resonate with many kids of children
  • A promise to include bilingual content in every book we publish
  • A model that encourages children to say, “I am a Living Library,” and to mean it with their whole heart

We don’t want kids to just access books.
We want them to feel activated by them.

We want them to:

  • Raise their phones and books to eye level—not their necks to the floor
  • Choose reading postures like Book-i-Fly because it feel right and good
  • Smile when they see characters who speak their language, live their stories, and reflect their magic

This isn’t about going backwards.
It’s about reimagining everything we thought we knew about literacy—and finally making it fit the world kids live in today.

🌎 A Future We Can Build Together

I imagine a world where LiYo is a household name.
Where kids flip through Nate Kid and the Flip Side, wearing their LiLi Keys, proudly calling themselves readers—even if they used to loathe reading.

Where schools, homes, and libraries know that endorphins, breath, posture, and movement matter when it comes to literacy success and deep encoding.

And if that world sounds bold? It is.
But if the alternative is more kids asking, “Why am I stupid?”
Then we owe it to them to try.

Join the movement. Www.facebook.com/livlibraries