Bethanhi Scherer was an orphan in Vietnam when she was adopted as a teenager by her American mother and father, a FedEx executive.

She was surprised. Most families don’t go for the older children, she says. “And I’ll be honest with you – I was the most undisciplined kid coming here.”

Growing up in Georgia the past few years, Ms. Scherer was drawn to the military through her brother, who serves in Air Force special operations. 

“I’ve always been more of a tomboy. I like cars, guns, bikes, all that kind of stuff,” she says. But when she tried to join the Army, her written test scores, as she continued to study English, weren’t high enough.

A recruiter told her about a new Department of Defense program to boost these marks through academic and fitness coaching. If she improved and qualified, she could begin Army basic training.

The rigor of the course hasn’t been easy, but she’s highly motivated, she says. “This country saved me. I want to be a part of it.” 

This is the sort of sentiment that the United States military is anxious to tap into, but one that’s increasingly tricky to find, analysts say.

The Pentagon’s advertising and marketing arm describes young people today as “having transitioned from being disconnected with the military to mostly disinterested in it,” Brig. Gen. Christopher Amrhein, who heads the Air Force Recruiting Service, told lawmakers earlier this year. The Air Force failed to make its recruiting goals for the first time in a quarter century.

At the same hearing, the head of the Army’s recruiting command, Maj. Gen. Johnny Davis, called 2024 “one of the toughest recruiting landscapes I’ve seen in over 33 years of service.” 

Alfredo Sosa/Staff

Potential Army recruits study at Fort Jackson in Columbia, South Carolina. They are part of the Future Soldier Preparatory Course, which helps people who want to enlist but cannot meet the physical or academic standards required for basic training.

America’s confidence in the military, while higher than most in this age of lost faith in public institutions, is currently at 60%, the lowest it’s been in 25 years. 

Political polarization is driving this “wavering” esteem for the armed services, a recent Rand think tank report argues, pointing to a growing sense that the military has been politicized.

Democrats are concerned about sexual assault of troops and the presence of extremism. GOP heavyweights decry “woke” culture in the ranks. Indeed, among Republicans, confidence in the military dropped from 91% to 68% in just three years, according to a Gallup poll in June 2023.

This politically fueled skepticism has also run headlong into a strong economy where jobs are easier to find – never a boon for recruiters. And young people now have far fewer family ties to the military.

This is a particular problem. About 80% of troops have at least one family member who served, and for more than a quarter of them, that person was a parent.

When the pandemic shut down schools, it closed off a key recruiting ground for the military. The shutdown also appears to have caused military entrance exam scores to drop by nearly 10%, according to Army officials.

The U.S. armed forces are looking for recruits in new areas of the country

The Pentagon has had to rethink the way it’s reaching out to potential recruits. It’s reaching more earnestly into northern regions and more urban areas, rather than the traditional recruiting grounds of the South. It is also courting young social media influencers by offering them opportunities to create rich content – such as, say, taking a spin in a fighter jet simulator.

Alfredo Sosa/Staff

Trainees enrolled in the Future Soldier Preparatory Course march back to their quarters at Fort Jackson in Columbia, South Carolina, July 17.

Still, commanders have long cautioned that their biggest recruiting challenge may be more about basic fitness. Some three-quarters of 17-to-24-year-olds don’t qualify for military service in the first place because of physical fitness levels, mental health challenges, or drug use, both recreational and prescribed.

One of the Army’s most successful new programs is targeting aspiring recruits like Ms. Scherer who want to serve but, because of academic test scores or fitness shortfalls, don’t yet have what it takes to even start basic training.

In the past, the military has been known to lower standards to bring in more recruits. This new program “is hugely important, because it addresses that critique,” says Katherine Kuzminski, director of the Military, Veterans, and Society Program at the Center for a New American Security. “It takes a population with a propensity to serve and raises them to meet the standards.”

Other services are following the Army’s lead. These initiatives and others are, in the latter half of 2024, putting the military “in a much different place right now than we were expecting,” Brigadier General Amrhein says, just six months after his testimony before Congress. “If the trend lines continue, I will move from cautiously optimistic to confident.”

Brigadier General Arnheim and others warn, however, that there will continue to be great and potentially difficult-to-meet demands for troops in the years to come. 

Against the backdrop of Russian revanchism, the war in Ukraine, and rising Chinese military might, Pentagon leaders stress the need to plan for future wars against “peer” adversaries, those with high-tech weapons and armies built to challenge the U.S. military.

This is happening while politicos from the U.S., Europe, and the Far East debate reinstating the draft as they eye present-day battlefields – ferocious reminders that for all the technology deployed, wars still require the sacrifice of legions of troops.

Alfredo Sosa/Staff

A drill sergeant leads Future Soldier Preparatory Course trainees through stretches at Fort Jackson in Columbia, South Carolina.

One solution: the U.S. Army’s Future Soldier Preparatory Course 

Half a world away, shredded rubber tires blanket the ground, creating a soft landing for young Americans in the “PT pit” at Fort Jackson’s Future Soldier Preparatory Course.

This is where the physical training happens. A training brigade that once taught the basics of combat has now been assigned to improve test scores and bring potential recruits up to the minimum level required to join the U.S. Army. 

Some of the aspiring soldiers here have failed to qualify once, twice, or maybe even three times. Should they succeed in passing the prep course, their reward will be boarding a bus for basic training.

The junior officers supervising day-to-day training helped build this program from the ground up two years ago, given only general instructions from top brass.

“We were told the Army has a recruiting program,” says Capt. Natalie Rodgers, a Citadel graduate and, up until this assignment, a military intelligence specialist. “We kind of built the plane in flight.”

They had a sense the program was a chance to bring in enlistees who might not have felt able, or welcome, to serve. In the process, they wanted to shatter some stereotypes, such as the notion that training has to be hard-core to be effective.

Alfredo Sosa/Staff

Trainees wait for chow at Fort Jackson’s training dining facility in Columbia, South Carolina.

This created an opening to delve into some psychology as well. Capt. Emily Rice, a registered dietitian who helped develop the program, is passionate about food choices. She’s delighted to chat about, say, the macro and micro nutrients of “meals ready to eat,” or MREs, or how to best “field strip” meals for soldiers at war or recruits during training so packaging and desserts don’t add to their pack loads.

But the officers here also knew they had to build mental fortitude in their new arrivals, she says.

“A lot of [trainees] will come with their battle buddies, and then they may not see the progress they want right away,” she says. “They end up staying when all their buddies have left them. So the resiliency, the coping skills, are really important.”

Program organizers envision transforming the role of the traditional drill sergeant. Instead of administering high-intensity, in-your-face preparation for battle, they take on a role more closely resembling coaches and confidants. 

Alfredo Sosa/Staff

“A lot of [trainees] will come with their battle buddies, and then they may not see the progress they want right away," says Capt. Emily Rice, an experienced infantry commander, who assesses trainees’ motivation and strength. "So the resiliency, the coping skills, are really important.”

Before the prep course started, there were some on the training staff “who’d never taken off their drill sergeant hat,” Captain Rodgers says.

In this program, a sergeant’s job includes checking in on academic progress, occasional tutoring and counseling, and patrolling the chow hall. Some trainees arrive with dietary preconceptions, like “a fear of carbohydrates,” Captain Rice notes.

“So we actually walk around and look at each individual trainee’s plate,” says Senior Drill Sgt. Benjamin Thomas. “You see some with one small piece of protein, loaded down with salad. That’s not enough to actually sustain you for what we’re doing here.”

After meals, trainees are sometimes instructed to walk a few laps around the track, to aid digestion and simply help form good exercise habits. They are also given “reflection time,” which might involve writing in a journal. 

Throughout the program, the “f-word” is not allowed – as in, calling anyone “fat.” They chart progress with a tape measure rather than a scale, since trainees are adding muscle weight.

The U.S. military’s recruiting standards: Is it becoming soft, or too “woke”? 

The program’s leaders know there are concerns their approach might sound a bit “woke,” or soft. Can such techniques really put trainees on the path to becoming battle-hardened soldiers? 

“When it first started, there were a lot of negative connotations around this program. Are we letting in the fat kids? Have we dropped Army standards?” Captain Rodgers recalls. 

Alfredo Sosa/Staff

A drill sergeant oversees potential recruits as they line up for breakfast. Part of supervising meals includes monitoring trainee plates to ensure they are consuming enough protein.

In fact, the prep course has shown that with the work they do here, trainees repeatedly are able to meet military standards. This alone “has helped change the culture within Fort Jackson, within their mindsets, and within the Army,” she says. “They are future soldiers, and we are helping them reach their goals.”

The program isn’t easy, however. It is essential that trainees hold fast to the goal of qualifying for basic training. Within 48 hours of their arrival, trainees are asked to reflect on their motivations for signing up and write them down.

It’s these “whys” for military service that will help sustain them during their time here, Captain Rodgers says. 

Taped to a dry-erase board at the front of the cardio room, a patchwork of index cards lists some of these whys. Many are testament to the privations as well as to the prospects of life in America.

“I am very new to the States and I am an immigrant,” one card says. It also expresses gratitude for “this opportunity to bring my family to me and start with a secure career.”

“To better myself, help my family, in particular my grandmother,” expresses another. 

“To make my dad proud from above,” in yet another. 

Adam Hannon, who’s in his early 30s, recalls seeing an ad for a $35,000 Army enlistment bonus. He and his wife, who have four children, own a coffee shop in Ohio. (“It’s kind of like a little trailer,” he says.) “I was, like, ‘Well, that would work for me.’” 

A baker by training, he has a particular affinity for wedding cakes. But Mr. Hannon says Army Special Forces “has always been a dream of mine.” 

It’s also something his dad wanted for him, he adds. “But with four kids and stuff, life kind of gets out of your hands.”

His wife encouraged him to sign up for the prep course. “She’s, like, ‘Well, if you’re going to do it, do it now. Do it for the kids.’” If he passes the course and makes it to basic training, he plans to put in for an assignment in an airborne infantry unit.

Others trainees are younger – not much older than kids themselves – and they are looking for a new life.

“My parents, both of them, got locked up in prison in 2018,” says Jasmine Greene, who’s 18 years old. “And a lot of people used to say I’d end up like my mom. So I try to prove them wrong.”

Alfredo Sosa/Staff

Future Soldier Preparatory Course trainees take a nutrition class at Fort Jackson in Columbia, South Carolina.

She failed her first written test to qualify for military service. “The first recruiters office I went to laughed in my face,” Ms. Greene says. “They said, ‘You know, you’re not going to make it.’ So I walked out and went to a different recruiter.”

The next recruiter told her about the program at Fort Jackson. “He was, like, ‘I understand how you moved a lot, with missing your schooling and dealing with not-good parents,’” she says. 

Much of the focus at Fort Jackson is geared toward slowly assimilating trainees into Army life. They enforce the kind of good eating and exercise habits these hopefuls may never have learned before, let alone been able to put into practice, says Capt. Jet Oliamot, who helps run the academic program.

“We have soldiers who had to juggle a job outside to provide for their families. Plus school. Plus lack of sleep, lack of nutrition.” Many are from “systemically poor neighborhoods,” he says. “We have some pretty smart kids. They just need some tools.”

There are study halls and mandatory lights-out. Inside the classroom, the presence of drill sergeants helps keep distractions to a minimum. 

“The benefit for the teachers is that they can focus on instruction, right?” Captain Oliamot says. “You talk to any teacher in the U.S. – classroom management is a big part of their job, right? They don’t have to worry about that here, because the drill sergeants are going to take that piece.

“It’s a very rigid and regimented schedule here. They’re not used to it,” he adds. “They do not like it. Which is fine, because that’s part of the challenge. And guess what? You’re going to take that grit to basic training.”

To date, the Future Soldier Preparatory Course has graduated some 14,000 freshly minted recruits. Of these, 95% go on to finish basic training and become soldiers, according to the Pentagon.

The number of the course’s graduates selected for leadership roles during basic training is “notable,” Army Secretary Christine Wormuth recently said. They fill more than one-third of these posts.

When they board the bus to basic training, some take their “why” cards with them for inspiration. Others give them to a battle buddy. Still others leave them posted at Fort Jackson to motivate those yet to graduate.

“Those are lessons I need to learn that not everything’s going to be perfect,” says Ms. Scherer, the adoptee from Vietnam. “Not everything’s going to go your way. But I’m here. And because of my background, I know how to work hard. And I will be overwhelmed with happiness to pass this.”

Alfredo Sosa/Staff

Trainees with the Army’s Future Soldier Preparatory Course shout answers to call-and-response drills as part of marching training at Fort Jackson in Columbia, South Carolina.

The Pentagon is seeking new ways to spark connections to military service

Growing up in Milwaukee, Major General Davis, an officer in the Army’s recruiting command, recalls sitting in the garden with his grandfather, listening to stories about his time in the military. “I was surrounded by a wonderful community of veterans.”

They taught him the importance of service, he says. 

Brigadier General Amrhein, head of the Air Force Recruiting Service, grew up in an Air Force family. His father was a pilot, as is he. His daughter, now in college, will soon be on her way to Air Force pilot training, too. 

This kind of life of service has been a cornerstone of his family, he says. And it has been kept alive by the kind of community they’ve found within the armed forces.

For that reason, Brigadier General Amrhein believes one of the keys to attracting new recruits is to give them a reason to join – particularly among those who have had far less exposure to the military way of life. So recruiters must find new ways to spark these kinds of connections.

These connections are essential to bridging the widening divide between civilians and the military. Exacerbated by politics, the gap exists in large part, analysts say, because only 1% of all U.S. adults have ever fought in America’s wars or served during times of peace.

Young adults in urban areas in the North and bigger cities in the South are a particular demographic for the military today. These are difficult recruiting areas, however, since the majority of large U.S. military bases are near small towns in the South.

To entice civilians and expose them to military communities they might not otherwise have reason to know, the Air Force has been opening up military bases for baseball clinics and spins in fighter jet flight simulators.

Attendees “are posting on social media spaces” as a result, Brigadier General Amrhein notes. “That’s where this impact goes beyond just the immediate community. If you don’t have any experience, or even some common knowledge of it, it’s really hard to recommend.”

Major General Davis says that another promising new effort is to try, when possible, to let recruiters serve in their hometowns, to help build community affinity and trust. 

The Army is also reaching out to local Veterans of Foreign Wars groups to link veterans up with young people. It is also training recruiters with courses that build negotiating skills, now necessary amid so many military skeptics.

At the same time, the country’s armed services are finding ways to address the changes in youth culture. The Air Force has adjusted its restrictions on neck tattoos “a little bit,” expanding the permissible parameters around the neck “because that seemed to be a barrier for service,” Brigadier General Amrhein says.

The Air Force also “accelerated the path to citizenship” for legal permanent residents who serve, enabling them to be sworn in as citizens shortly after completing basic training.

“That seems to be a pretty viable incentive for many people, and it opens up more opportunities,” he adds. “That’s really what we’re talking about – opening up opportunities.” Other services are considering launching their own version of the Army’s Future Soldier Preparatory Course. 

And at the moment, both the Air Force and the Army now appear to be on track to meet their recruiting goals this year. Army Secretary Wormuth told The Associated Press this summer that she thinks the prep course has been a key reason.

Since this story was reported, Ms. Greene, Mr. Hannon, and Ms. Scherer have become privates in the U.S. Army.

Reflecting on her time at Fort Jackson, the teenage Private Greene says she struggled while she was there, no doubt.

“But it makes you feel motivated, having people actually sit down and want to teach you, to help you serve, to do the job you want to do, to maybe keep going.

“I knew I couldn’t give up,” Private Greene says, “because the Army didn’t want to give up on us.”

Ohad Zwigenberg/AP

Israel's far-right National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir (center), flanked by his security detail, approaches the entrance to Jerusalem's most sensitive holy site, which Jews revere as the Temple Mount and Muslims as the Noble Sanctuary, in the Old City of Jerusalem, Aug. 13, 2024.

Ronen Bar, the head of Israel’s internal security agency, Shin Bet, issued a stark warning to members of Benjamin Netanyahu’s government in late August.

Jewish terror, perpetrated on Palestinians by violent settlers in the West Bank, and provocative visits by Israel’s National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir to Jerusalem’s Temple Mount, are doing “indescribable damage” to the nation, Mr. Bar said in a letter published by Channel 12 News on Aug. 22.

Violent Jewish settlers, he wrote, are getting soft treatment and a “secret sense of backing” from the Israeli police, which is overseen by Mr. Ben-Gvir. All this will lead to added bloodshed and “unrecognizably” change the face of the nation, the letter warned.

Mr. Bar reportedly sent his letter to government ministers and Attorney General Gali Baharav-Miara, though not to the hard-line Mr. Ben-Gvir. In it he warns that the unchecked rise of the extreme right is leading to the delegitimization of Israel, even among its allies; is spreading thin the deployment of the Israeli military; and is creating a “slippery slope to the feeling of a lack of governance” in Israel.

Yet the extraordinary warnings have received relatively scant attention, as Israeli citizens continue to grapple with an overwhelming stream of heartbreaking news related to Hamas’ Oct. 7 attack and the war in Gaza.

Just days prior to publication of Mr. Bar’s letter, Israelis were informed that the Israel Defense Forces had retrieved the bodies of six hostages who had been killed in captivity. Then on Sept. 1, the bodies of another six hostages were recovered shortly after being executed by Hamas. That same day, three Israeli police officers were killed in the West Bank. And all this amid the war in Gaza and Hezbollah rockets from Lebanon raining down on Israel’s north.

“Extremists thrive in chaos”

“People have seen so many negative things coming at them that they are only able to digest so much,” says Tal Schneider, a political and diplomatic correspondent for The Times of Israel.

This is making them “quite sealed off from reality,” she explains, adding that since Oct. 7, Israelis have also developed “a deep distrust” of the government, the army, the Shin Bet, the press, and the courts.

Gil Cohen-Magen/AP/File

Ronen Bar, chief of Israel's internal security agency, Shin Bet, attends a Memorial Day ceremony honoring Israel's fallen soldiers and victims of attacks, at Jerusalem's Mount Herzl military cemetery, May 13, 2024.

“Israeli society is breaking down,” she says, with “many consequences.” One is tuning out growing Jewish extremism.

“The public does not understand the severe implications of the rampage of the settlers and the state’s inability to enforce the law. Ronen Bar’s warnings are not taken by the people as seriously as they should because they don’t trust him,” she says.

The chaos that has gripped Israeli society for nearly two years, first over the government’s proposed judicial overhaul that triggered massive protests, and then because of the war, has brought extremists out into the open.

“Extremists thrive in chaos,” says Erez Kreiner, an associate at the International Institute for Counter-Terrorism at Reichman University and a former senior security official.

In April, far-right Jewish settlers killed four Palestinians and wounded dozens in the West Bank in response to the killing of a 14-year-old Jewish shepherd. On Aug. 15, some 100 masked settlers attacked the West Bank village of Jit, setting cars and buildings on fire and killing a Palestinian. After an investigation, the Israeli military admitted that its initial response to the “rioters” was inadequate.

“We repress the real picture”

Ami Ayalon, a former head of the Shin Bet, and a former parliamentarian for Israel’s Labor Party, took over the internal security agency following the killing in 1995 of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, who was assassinated by a Jewish extremist opposed to the Oslo peace accords with the Palestinians.

“Before Rabin’s murder, the shouts on the streets were much louder than today,” Mr. Ayalon says of the Jewish extremists. “But at that time, they were not in power.”

Today, he adds, “They are in power. The Jewish terror is financed largely by state funds; they have a political arm, headed by Ben-Gvir, who sits in the government and arguably dictates the policy of the government.”

“Jewish terror is not generating a reaction within Israel,” he says. And Israel’s response to this growing threat is “limp, weak, and nonexistent.”

“Some of us say Jewish terrorists are weeds, a small minority, and they do not represent us. When we look at ourselves in the mirror, we don’t see ourselves as people who shoot innocent Palestinians,” he says. “But we are in denial. We repress the real picture because it is a very ugly one, unbearable to see.”

Nasser Nasser/AP

A Palestinian examines a torched vehicle, seen the morning after a rampage by some 100 masked Israeli settlers in the West Bank village of Jit, Aug. 16, 2024. One Palestinian was killed in the attack, and the Israeli army said its response to the settlers' violence was inadequate.

In from the fringe

Until Israel’s latest election, Mr. Ben-Gvir and his party were viewed as fringe players in national politics. But then Mr. Netanyahu, on trial for multiple allegations of corruption and eager to find coalition partners, added him to his government and gave him the national security portfolio.

Mr. Ben-Gvir, a media-savvy lawyer-turned-politician who has in the past defended settlers charged with violence against Palestinians, has himself been convicted of offenses that include racism and support for a terrorist organization.

But Mr. Netanyahu and his right-wing government have so far refrained from restraining Mr. Ben-Gvir, who remains highly popular on the Israeli right.

The grassroots Movement for Quality Government in Israel, which aims to preserve Israel’s democracy, has been watching Mr. Ben-Gvir closely since he became minister, says Rotem Bavli Dvir, the movement’s head of litigation.

On Aug. 28, she says, her organization appealed to the state prosecutor, the head of the police, and the attorney general to open a criminal investigation against Mr. Ben-Gvir on suspicion of incitement and sedition. The move followed his most recent visit to the Temple Mount, which is also holy to Muslims as Haram Sharif and is the site of the Al-Aqsa Mosque.

The movement has also petitioned Israel’s Supreme Court on two other matters: Mr. Ben-Gvir’s amendment to the police law, approved by the Knesset, that allows him to direct the policy of the police, restraining its independence; and his office’s distribution of firearms without the proper authorizations since Oct. 7. 

Mr. Ben-Gvir has also clashed with Attorney General Baharav-Miara, recently on the promotion of police officer Meir Suissa, who was indicted for throwing a stun grenade at anti-government protesters last year. The Jerusalem District Court late last week froze Mr. Suissa’s promotion, saying it violated police procedures.

Gil Cohen-Magen/AP/File

Israeli Attorney General Gali Baharav-Miara, who has clashed with right-wing National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, arrives to attend the weekly Cabinet meeting at the Prime Minister's Office in Jerusalem, July 9, 2023.

The courts are called upon to rule on many of these matters, says Ms. Bavli Dvir, because in recent years the legislative checks and balances that should be in place on the government are ineffective.

An emotional need for control

Meanwhile, Mr. Ben-Gvir’s detractors say he continues to behave like a bull in a china shop without paying a price.

Professor Uriel Abulof, a political scientist at Tel Aviv University, says that someday, to get the nation back on track, Israel’s civil society will have to come together and “think bravely” about the way forward.

But in the meantime, he explains, what Mr. Ben-Gvir is tapping into is emotional.

It “is something that goes to the heart of the human condition ... control,” says Professor Abulof. “Israelis have been feeling for years now that they don’t have a say; they don’t have control over whatever is happening to them, personally, to their families, to the world around them. Everything seems to be shaken, uncertain, sometimes falling apart.”

What Mr. Ben-Gvir is effectively promising, he says, through the handing out of firearms, for example, is a “shortcut to a sense of security and control.”

To keep his coalition together, Mr. Netanyahu “has to please Ben-Gvir in all the various ways that Ben-Gvir increasingly demands, and he does,” says Professor Abulof. “As long as Netanyahu can keep his coalition, he will do whatever it takes.”

Alfredo Sosa/Staff/File

High school student Mahaila Brunner reads a book from the pile she checked out in the main branch of the Missouri River Regional Library, April 25, 2023, in Jefferson City.

Alden Jones reached a point this summer when she needed to share her thoughts with the world. 

She brought her observations to X. Her post went viral, likely due to her eye-catching first line: “Yes, college students have lost their ability to read.”

Ms. Jones, an assistant professor of writing, literature, and publishing at Emerson College in Boston, says reading hesitancy among her young adult students started in the late 2000s and accelerated during the pandemic. During that period, she even noticed her own attention span for books diminishing.

The difficult part, she says, is simply engaging students in reading – whether it be of short stories, essays, poems, or novels.

“It’s not that they can’t analyze a sentence,” Ms. Jones says. “It’s that they can’t turn their minds fully to the material in the way that [people] used to.”

So what’s the trick to getting young people – and teens and 10-year-olds – to enjoy the act of reading? To stay in the moment long enough to appreciate the feel of paper pages and a cliff-hanger chapter? What can parents and teachers do?

Educators the Monitor reached out to as the school year gears up have lots of advice: Set aside dedicated time for reading. Find materials that resonate with students. Offer a welcoming setting. Give students the chance to talk about what they’ve read. 

“What are they liking about it? What are they not liking about it? What surprised them?” says Patricia Durham, a literacy professor at Sam Houston State University, suggesting questions to spark discussion.

Riley Robinson/Staff/File

Aubrey Freeman reads a book at Wildwood Elementary School, April 28, 2023, in Middletown, Ohio.

Many of these strategies largely revolve around building joy rather than drudgery. The depth of students’ reading challenges have supercharged debate and policy decisions about how best to teach the subject. But some educators and experts are also raising concern that pleasure reading shouldn’t fall at the sword of rigorous phonics, vocabulary, and comprehension instruction. In other words, both matter.

Antoine Edwards, a seventh grade English language arts teacher at Sutton Middle School in Atlanta, views confidence-building as an important first step. He starts the school year with shorter stories – or as he puts it, “texts that aren’t intimidating” – and develops a respectful classroom culture. The presence of a big, comfy couch helps, too.

“The classroom is inviting,” he says. “So they’ll feel comfortable, and it doesn’t have to be scary.”

Mr. Edwards also devotes time to First Chapter Fridays. Each week, he reads aloud the first chapter of a new book, hoping to spark interest among his middle schoolers. A recent title in that rotation: “On the Come Up” by Angie Thomas.

Where teens got to choose new books for their library

Halfway across the United States, leaders at Roosevelt High School in Des Moines, Iowa, recently took a slightly different approach: They invited a group of 20-plus students to help select new books as part of a $1.2 million library renovation project. 

Comfort Toluwalase, a junior, says she took the opportunity seriously and wanted to find books that would have a “lasting impact” on her classmates. She recalls reading “The House on Mango Street,” by Sandra Cisneros, in eighth grade and feeling kinship with the main character, who grew up in a lower-income neighborhood.

Now an avid reader of science fiction and fantasy books, Comfort once hated reading. “I think reading books was kind of like a way to escape from some things that were stressful,” she says.

Comfort and Sha’nye Kinchelow, a sophomore on the selection committee, also say they prioritized books featuring diverse authors and characters. 

“We’re all different in our ways, but we just need to learn to accept it,” says Sha’nye, who was particularly excited about books examining African American and Latino history. “So I feel like the books will actually help us understand that.”

Principal Steve Schappaugh says motivation is key, especially in an era defined by lack of reading stamina. Social media has programmed students to digest short, concise blurbs, he says. And though that’s valuable, educators are constantly trying to build students’ reading muscles for longer forms of writing.

Will the expanded library collection and refreshed vibe – complete with artwork, conference rooms, and cozy nooks – help?

“I saw students today looking at books that I have not seen looking at books in the previous years they were at our school,” he says by phone earlier this month.

Courtesy of Phil Roeder/Des Moines Public Schools

Students at Roosevelt High School in Des Moines, Iowa, helped select new books as part of a library renovation project. The refreshed library also features conference rooms, artwork, and cozy nooks to encourage reading and gathering.

What do parents think their children should read?

In Temple, Texas, kindergarten teacher JoMeka Gray starts each year by surveying parents. She wants to learn her students’ interests so she can find reading materials about dinosaurs, plants, baseball, or any other topic that fires their imagination. 

Ms. Gray, who teaches at Kennedy-Powell STEM Academy, has also been leaning into what she describes as “predictive texts.” She points to “Whose Teeth Are These?” – written by Kris Hirschmann and illustrated by Daniel Howarth – as an example of a children’s book that is interactive and educational.

“It seems like it’s fiction, but it’s really teaching them,” she says.

Like a gym, a dedicated reading space offers motivation 

Back in Boston, Ms. Jones’ strategies to overcome college student roadblocks include balancing shorter and longer stories, strongly encouraging paper texts, reading aloud in class, keeping reading assignments reasonable, and giving comprehension quizzes. If students enjoy – and complete – the reading, she says, the quality of class discussions inevitably improves. 

But Ms. Jones doesn’t want that engagement to end at her classroom door. She may launch “reading hours” on campus, in which students can cozy up to a good book, poem, or other form of the written word. Her rationale: Some people can’t muster the motivation to exercise at home. Maybe a dedicated reading space would renew their interest, away from distractions, much like a gym or workout class.

The concept, she suspects, may even lend itself to camaraderie and friendly discussions.

“It’s enjoyable and interesting to talk about what’s in the book,” she says. “And it’s not about the stress of a class.”

Editor's Note: This story has been updated to correct the name of Emerson College in Boston.

Musically, a baritone’s range rests between that of a bass or tenor – the most common of the three male voice types.

James Earl Jones was no middling nor common man. He was a vocal lion who became a voice of reason for not only an industry, but at moments, a nation. His range, expanded and perfected through adversity and the arts, was evident in how he voiced tragic father figures – Mufasa in “The Lion King” and “Star Wars” premier antagonist, Darth Vader.

When he revived Frederick Douglass’ fiery Fourth of July social commentary, “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July,” he gave modern relevance to the centuries’ old challenge of Black freedom and equality in America. Mr. Jones, who died Monday at age 93, even toed the line between royalty and working man in Black cinema – both as Eddie Murphy’s father, the King of Zamunda, in “Coming To America,” and Diahann Carroll’s husband in “Claudine.”

It was a life which started in Northern Mississippi in the early 1930s, in the throes of the Great Depression. At the age of 5, Mr. Jones moved to Michigan with his maternal grandparents, a transition so stunning that it left him with a pronounced stutter.

“It wasn’t that I stopped talking; it’s that I resolved that talking was too difficult,” Mr. Jones said in a 1996 interview fittingly named “The Voice of Triumph.” “You see, in the move from Mississippi to Michigan, you would think it would be a jubilant journey for a young boy of – I was then five years old – going to the promised land, you know. For me though, it was leaving the soil that I had touched with my bare feet, and I didn’t know if I’d ever touch soil with my bare feet again, and that was traumatic for me.”

He was healed through the arts, and credited an English teacher for revealing a gift of poetry. From there, Mr. Jones became a Michigan man, and cut his teeth through Shakespearean performances, the likes of Othello and King Lear. His presence lent gravity to everything from “The Hunt for Red October” to his unforgettable sportswriter in “Field of Dreams.”

But he left his mark with two otherworldly performances – the monochromatic villain with the brooding voice in “Star Wars,” and the booming presence over Pride Rock, both in life and in death. “No, I am your father,” Darth Vader told his son, Luke. It was a line that could have translated very well to “The Lion King.” Mr. Jones’ posthumous words as Mufasa helped his wayward son find his way back – “Remember who you are. You are my son, and the one true king.”

Saying Mr. Jones was a pioneer would be an understatement. He wasn’t just a trailblazing African American artist. He was a standard-bearer in terms of his range and professionalism, which yielded an honorary Oscar, a special Tony for lifetime achievement, and the renaming of a Broadway theater. He was one of the few performers to hold an EGOT – becoming the first person to win two Emmys in the same year, plus a Grammy, an honorary Oscar, and three Tony awards.

His legacy as a voice of reason is a reminder of what we might overcome when we face our trauma and find our purpose. Mr. Jones’ voice isn’t just one of conscience or a voice for trusted news. It is a well of dignity, a reservoir of resonance that echoes not only from his career, but in all of us who heard him as well.

It was 2021. Rich Orbeta had been her family’s rock since her father left them years before – taking care of the housework, finances, and overall well-being of her three younger siblings – and she was having doubts then about her chosen career in medicine. Like many átes – “eldest daughters” in Filipino – she felt she had nowhere to turn for support. 

“I’m the eldest,” says Ms. Orbeta, in a mix of English and Filipino. “I have to figure things out on my own.”

But then she stumbled across a nascent Facebook group full of átes just like her. Fingers tense, she began to type, describing her fears. The ensuing flurry of support caught her off guard.

“Best of luck on your board exams!” commented one member.

“You might not see it yet, but I hope there comes a time that you’ll see your sacrifices were worth it,” wrote another. 

Even today, those messages comfort the physician from southern Luzon. “There’s just something about people you don’t know personally rooting for you,” she says.

The “Eldest Daughter in an Asian Household Club” has since ballooned to some 7,400 members, almost all Filipino átes struggling with “eldest daughter syndrome,” as it’s been termed on social media. Across Asia and around the world, eldest daughters say they face unique social and family pressures, and take on more domestic responsibilities than their younger or male counterparts. As adults, many experience feelings of resentment, anxiety, and trouble setting boundaries. But this “syndrome” is also shaped by the country and culture in which an eldest daughter is raised. 

Filipino sociologists say átes’ experiences have roots in the Philippines’ history of colonization, first by the Spanish, and later by Japan and the United States. 

“In those three times, there have been different gendered expectations,” says Adrienne Cacatian, a sociology instructor at the University of the Philippines Diliman. “Now, [átes] are not only expected to be excellent outside the home, as a career woman and breadwinner, [they’re] also expected to be excellent inside the home.”

Maro B. Enriquez

Elaina Duarte-Santos visits the Facebook group "Eldest Daughter in an Asian Household Club" on her phone in Manila, Philippines, March 17, 2024. As a member and moderator, she has read harrowing stories of fellow átes struggling to live up to Filipino society's expectations of an eldest daughter.

Cacatian, an áte themself, welcomes the uptick in online discourse about the eldest daughter experience, which they credit to people “being more critical and engaged about the role of gender and how families are structured in society.”

And with greater awareness, comes more opportunities for support.

Finding a safe space

Created in 2021, the “Eldest Daughter in an Asian Household Club” greets members with a tongue-in-cheek banner photo of a message on the social platform now known as X, reading “[You] think [you] can hurt me? I’m the eldest daughter in an Asian family.” 

While the internet is rich with similar sites – including a popular subreddit for Filipino firstborns and an Instagram account called “Eldest Daughter Club” with more than 200,000 followers – this is the only online resource catering specifically to eldest daughters in the Philippines.

Moderator Elaina Duarte-Santos says “it’s a safe space.”

She first learned of the group three years ago, amid COVID-19 lockdowns. She was searching for human connection and a way to blow off steam. 

The school teacher and financial adviser has acted as co-parent of her three siblings ever since her parents separated, providing financial and emotional support to her family. It is draining, and “they keep rejecting the idea that I’m tired,” she says with a nervous laugh.

The “Eldest Daughter” group soon became her go-to spot to vent, commiserate, and seek advice. It was also a source of strength when she went through a miscarriage in 2022. 

“The people in the group became a sort of support system for me, just by talking to each other and sharing their experiences,” she says in Filipino. Knowing what other átes were going through helped her not dwell on her loss, she adds.

Maro B. Enriquez

Elaina Duarte-Santos is tasked with providing financial support, as well as emotional support, to her mother and three other siblings. It's a lot of pressure, she says, but the "Eldest Daughter" group has provided "a safe space" to vent and seek support.

Pressure to be “perfect”

A major facet of “eldest daughter syndrome” is expectations around domestic labor, which shape women’s lives from childhood. Globally, girls ages 5-14 “spend 160 million more hours every day on unpaid care and domestic work than boys of the same age,” UNICEF reports. 

“At a very young age, taking responsibility for the family is already skewed towards a particular gender,” says Cacatian. And in their paper “Filipino, Firstborn, Female: Filipino Eldest Daughters as an Invisibilized Women’s Sector,” Cacatian argues that átes also act as a family’s representative in society, a reflection of their values and status. This leads to immense pressure to be high achievers and to appear “perfect,” they write.

“The bad thing, as with anything, is the matter of choice,” says Rowena Laguilles-Timog, a women’s studies scholar at the University of the Philippines. “Perhaps some women are OK with it, and they like it. There are perks that come with [this role]. But I’m sure many more feel trapped.”

Ms. Duarte-Santos says that perhaps if she wasn’t the firstborn, “I could save up; I’d be wealthy by now.”

Ms. Orbeta, the physician, says she loves her family – but some days, she would rather be stuck at work than be the one doing chores at home. Still, she doesn’t want to harbor resentment.

“I’d rather not internalize it. [My siblings] did not choose my birth order, nor give me these responsibilities,” she says.

Instead, she airs her frustrations in the “Eldest Daughter” group, which gets about three to five membership requests a day.

While the group doesn’t replace real-world relationships, Samuel Cabbuag, a digital sociologist, says it highlights one of the best parts of the internet: access to community. “You just need to go to your phone, and you can already have someone to discuss things that are particularly sensitive,” he says.

Had this sort of community existed when she was younger, Ms. Orbeta believes she would have felt less alone.

“There’s a certain power to a physical hug,” she says. “But online, you can be more vulnerable, especially with the anonymous feature. … For now, I prefer to keep it online.”

Jackie Valley/The Christian Science Monitor

The Utah Capitol in Salt Lake City

If only a minority of Americans watch this year’s second presidential debate, chalk it up to the fact that some people may be looking elsewhere for models of civility. As candidate etiquette during the debates has declined, more voters are turned off by national politics. In April, even before this year’s first debate, a Pew Research Center poll found nearly two-thirds of adults said they were worn out by the campaigns – higher than during the last two presidential election cycles.

Yet the debates give a false picture of political civility in much of America where it counts. At the state level, it turns out, civility among elected leaders is the best predictor of whether a state legislature is productive, such as in passing a budget on time. Most notably, in states where political parties are the most competitive, lawmakers tend to get along and pass more bills, according to a new survey by the University of Arkansas.

“Legislative civility can compensate for the ill effects of polarization,” one of the study’s authors, political science professor William Schreckhise, told a radio podcast at his university. The survey tapped into the views of those closest to the work of legislators: more than 1,200 lobbyists in state capitals.

One conclusion of the study: Lawmakers who recognize that an opponent’s point of view is legitimate can get the most done. Treating each other as moral equals, in other words, leads to harmonious outcomes.

The task ahead, said Dr. Schreckhise, is on citizens to ensure they elect leaders who can form bonds of trust and reciprocity across party lines. “So as long as we encourage our legislatures to behave in a civil way,” he said, “then I think we can look forward to a future where states continue to be fairly productive.” Maybe, just maybe, he added, American society is arriving at the point of rethinking “how we disagree with people on politics.”

At the state level, both the National Governors Association and the Washington-based National Institute for Civil Discourse have worked hard in recent years to promote civility in state capitols. Sometimes that means being humble enough to compromise. In a May survey for the nonpartisan group The Common Good, 89% of Americans said they favor lawmakers with the “political courage” to make a tough decision even when it puts their career in jeopardy.

When people of opposite political stripes actually talk, their dislike of each other can plummet, according to experiments in 2020 at Stanford University’s Social Neuroscience Laboratory. “We think that the average person we disagree with is far more extreme than they really are,” Jamil Zaki, head of that lab, told PBS News Hour. “In many ways, we are fighting phantoms because we don’t interact with people we disagree with as much as we used to.”

“People don’t realize how caring, generous, and open minded others are,” Dr. Zaki wrote in a new book, “Hope for Cynics: The Surprising Science of Human Goodness.” In many state capitols, rivals are learning just that, setting an example for the national stage.