More than a quarter of American adults now read at the lowest literacy levels the federal government measures. If that sounds abstract, wander over to TikTok.<\/p>\n
In 2023, 28% of U.S. adults scored at or below the bottom level of the Department of Education\u2019s adult skills assessment<\/a>, a nine-point jump since 2017. Kids aren\u2019t faring better. Reading scores on the Nation\u2019s Report Card fell in 2024<\/a> for both fourth and eighth graders, deepening a drop that began before the pandemic. Virginia isn\u2019t immune to this, either. According to the National Assessment of Education Progress, in 2024, 31% of our fourth graders were proficient in reading and only 29% of eighth graders were proficient in both reading and math.<\/p>\n We usually talk about declining reading proficiency costs us in the economy and civic life. Those costs are real. But there\u2019s a quieter one playing out on our phones right now: We are losing the ability to understand the stories we share.<\/p>\n Exhibit A is a viral trend built on \u201cBabylon,\u201d a new track from Taylor Swift\u2019s \u201cThe Life of a Showgirl: The Encore.\u201d Parents post videos of their children<\/a> with the caption, \u201cThis is my Babylon,\u201d the song swelling underneath. The message: These are the days I\u2019ll miss.<\/p>\n I\u2019m a mom and a lifelong Swiftie, so I understand the impulse. But the song says nearly the opposite.<\/p>\n \u201cBabylon\u201d is about a man whose life is always better in the rear view. Its central argument is that he never recognized what he had until it was gone. The bridge lays out this thesis clearly, describing nostalgia as a wound he inflicts on himself and everyone around him. Then, the final scene hits listeners over the head with the point, as the protagonist sits alone in his car while his partner hangs Christmas lights with their son.<\/p>\n The parents posting this trend have cast themselves as the man in the car, so fixated on days gone by that they miss the moment in front of them.<\/p>\n If the lyrics hint, the title screams. \u201cBabylon\u201d is synonymous with dazzling excess that collapsed, a fitting symbol for chasing something shinier and realizing too late what you left behind. Historians still debate whether its famous Hanging Gardens existed at all<\/a>. The paradise you long for may never have been real in the form you remember.<\/p>\n This isn\u2019t meant to call out parents simply wanting to post a cute video about how much they\u00a0 love their kids, and it isn\u2019t about one song.<\/p>\n \u201cBabylon\u201d is not obscure poetry. It\u2019s a pop single from the most famous musician on earth, written plainly from a second person point of view. Understanding it requires exactly the skills our schools are supposed to build, including catching irony, recognizing an allusion and noticing when a character is being indicted rather than celebrated. When enough listeners betray those skills that a trend is established, it tells us something about where literacy stands that simple statistics can\u2019t.<\/p>\n Pop culture is now our most widely shared text. Fewer of us read the same novels; nearly all of us hear the same songs. That makes it one of the best tools we have for rebuilding close reading, if we\u2019re willing to treat it seriously.<\/p>\n Teachers can bring lyrics into the classroom alongside Gatsby, another story about a man undone by longing for a past that never quite existed. Parents can ask their kids what a song actually means, and listen to the answer. And all of us can slow down before turning art into a caption.<\/p>\n Swift has spent two decades rewarding listeners who pay attention. It\u2019s time for us to re-learn how.<\/p>\n Harley Adsit of Arlington is a communications professional. She runs a platform that allows Taylor Swift fans to rate her catalog of songs.<\/p>\n \t\t\t