How Pokemon teaches you to read

After writing a book about Pokemon (Monster Kids: How Pokemon Taught A Generation To Catch Them All is available everywhere!), I’ve had a lot of people tell me how they first got into Pokemon. I don’t have a problem with this - their stories often blend a delightful sense of nostalgia with introspection. They didn’t just become fans of Pokemon, but Pokemon ended up meaning something specifically to them. Whether it was a newfound bond between family members when a cousin lent them a Game Boy with a copy of Blue Version for them to play, or a sudden interest in video games and their careful exploration (Pokemon is designed to be investigated,) nearly everyone I talk to was changed by it.

This includes those that told me that Pokemon helped teach them how to read, or the parents I’ve spoken to that play Pokemon with their young children and have noticed a growth in their children’s interest in reading. Pokemon didn’t necessarily do that for me, but I find this commonly shared quality to be amazing. Because just as Pokemon can teach you everything from role playing game mechanics to math skills regarding advantages and weaknesses among monsters, it also provides a great entry point into how we use language.

The most prominent way, at least to me, lies in how the many, many creatures are named. The English names for Pokemon are often two combined terms that add up to a summation of the distinct character of the monster. For example, when pulled in two, “Charmander” is “char” and “salamander,” the first part an indication of its Fire typing and the second a representation of how it relates to the creatures of our own natural world. Not only is this kind of dissection fun, but it allows us to process words in new ways. When you’re a child, you don’t just learn what words mean but how they cycle constantly through different forms. You learn how terms and phrases are created with adding a word and its consistent base definition to another. So, when you see something like “Bulbasaur,” you likely immediately recognize the “saur” from “dinosaur,” but then have to work out what the “bulb” means both in relation to the name and to the creature. Is a “bulb” a term that applies to plants, meaning that it also would apply to this Grass type Pokemon? Yes. Does it have a un-bloomed bulb on its back? Yes. Is this sort of like a dinosaur with a bulb on its back? Yes. Boom. You arrive at Bulbasaur, now not only knowing how its name was put together but also with a better grasp on just how names are applied to things in Pokemon and in general.

It also helps that Pokemon is full of distinct and clear phrases, particularly when you run into trainers that are scattered around the world. This was especially apparent when it was on the Game Boy, which had a very limited amount of words that it could carry on the little text box at the bottom of the screen. However, these limits can be beneficial to a child learning basic sentence structure. For example, let’s look at this iconic little guy:

“Hi! I like shorts! They’re comfy and easy to wear!”

Now, a lot of phrases had to be broken down like this for pure technological reasons. But also, when you have those limitations and a sentence goes on too long, it can be very easy for a kid to lose track of what’s being said. When I was learning to read in school, one thing I had a hard time with initially was longer paragraphs. A sentence would go on for a while and then I’d move down the page and in what looked like a wall of text, I’d become a bit lost as to where I was. Pokemon alleviates a lot of that. “Hi! I like shorts!” fits into the first round of text and then when you hit A, “They’re comfy and easy to wear!” fits neatly into the second. It’s very simple and succinct, but it also makes reading feel very approachable. You’re never overwhelmed by a sea of run-ons and grammatical blocking that you might not be equipped to handle.

And finally, Pokemon helps us learn how to categorize and memorize. Just like the fauna of earth, Pokemon can fit into specific typings (The typings in Pokemon are a little more outlandish, though I dream of the day when I can see, say, a crocodile and think “Ah, a Dragon-Water type.) This kind of systematic placement might seem to pull the joy from reading at first, but it goes a long way. For someone that is learning about, for instance, characters and settings, this filing of monsters and meanings helps us grasp broader contexts.

As you grow up, the stories that are read to you (and that you read yourself) become more complicated. What starts off with a simple formula of “character does thing” becomes “character in a specific place does thing and changes.” When you add more and more of that, the mind has to take in “Okay, that’s what he did there and then that’s what they did there and then that’s what happened in the end.” Pokemon’s human characters help in this way, too - Many battles start with a trainer than is cocky and pugnacious, only to evolve into a more humble, gentler person upon defeat. But when you have so many monsters and so many types and so many capabilities, it gives you a crash course in defining the stories you are reading. You’re able to pick out the parts and how they work together and it makes you feel confident going forward into more complex stuff.

Anyway, I’m sure there’s more to this, but considering how many people have told me that Pokemon helped them learn to read, I figured it was important to touch on.