On Teaching Toddlers to Read
02
N. L. Medellin
January 4, 2026
For the past couple of weeks, I have been trying to get my one-year-old niece to read The Odyssey to no avail. The task itself has proven to be quite the odyssey, and while I am well aware of the fact that a toddler can’t read, I don’t intend to let that stop her from appreciating the Homeric epic.
I tried a couple of things: first, in attempting to start from zero, I placed her in front of her black and white contrast book. Apparently, high-contrast books are good starting points—she chewed on the corners. I tried reading it to her, gliding my finger over each word slowly, hoping she’d repeat after me, but she preferred to play with her dolls—understandably so. It was difficult trying to get a toddler to focus on a high-contrast book, let alone The Odyssey. But, we are not giving up!
Why was I so adamant about getting her to read? Because it’s funny to see kids engage in something that’s way out of their reach. I suppose it’s inspiring, given that we have much to learn from children. They are fearless, and although their courage comes from a desire to dangerously explore electrical outlets, trash bins, and the cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink, they remind us of what we once were—little learners.
After a while, you realize how utterly hopeless children are without adults, yet their unwavering desire to explore remains intact, no matter how many times they may fall off the bed or the couch. Countless times, I’ve served as the shield between my niece’s head and the corners of tables. And while there is a heightened alert that one must be on when caring for children, it is no less amusing when we see them behave like adults.
It is in this imitative behavior that I realized maybe it’s not about placing her in front of a book, but about ensuring that every time she saw me, I would be reading. So, I did just that, and things changed. I realized what many already know: children are mimetic creatures. Aristotle wrote about this in his Poetics. Kids, like mirrors, mimic our actions.
Children are the perfect example of doing without thinking; in contrast, we mostly think and don’t do. In most cases, that’s a good thing, but sometimes returning to the childlike quality can help us learn.
In her own way, my niece read The Odyssey. I don’t think she understood the themes, but she definitely learned how to hold a book and run her finger over the pages, one step closer to appreciation—and that’s progress.