The wonderful author and poet Michael Rosen was Britain's Children's Laureate in 2008 /9. Here is the link to his website for the full text of his Patrick Hardy lecture - http://www.michaelrosen.co.uk/patrickhardy.html and there are other gems there too so it is worth exploring.
His Patrick Hardy Lecture talks about the relationship between education and books, a checklist of questions and suggestions about a school's "book culture", and a paean to the picture book and all that it offers to mind and ear and eye... "This is not just a matter of how we read, it’s why we read."
Here is an extract from the Lecture (slightly edited) :
So I’ve become more and more interested in looking at how schools do or don’t help create this book-loving culture. Here’s my checklist of questions to ask of a school, to see if it really is serious about books.
- Does the school have in place any kind of home-school liaison where someone talks with individual parents about specific books, libraries, book departments, magazines, book clubs, book shows, that might interest this specific child and his or her carers?
- Does the school hold book events all year round with writers, illustrators, story-tellers, librarians, book enthusiasts coming in and talking and performing for the children and parents?
- Does the school not only invite in a syndicated book fair but also invites in local bookshops, specialist bookshops and has books available for borrowing or buying to support the visiting writers, speakers, performers and story-tellers?
- Is there someone in the school trained and interested in running the school library and who is on hand to give advice to every teacher to help them with their class libraries?
- Does the school run book clubs for teachers, parents and children?
- Does the school give every parent information – perhaps in the form of an attractive pack – on the local library, the local bookshop? Does the school take children and parents to these venues?
- Do the school and individual classes adopt an author or illustrator for the week, or month or term and investigate, explore and do creative work around that author and illustrator?
- Do the children make books of their own? Are these readily available for everyone in the school and parents too? Does the school encourage parents to come in and make books with the children? Does the school celebrate and cherish these books as much as it celebrates its most important activities?
- Does the school encourage children to pass books between each other by means of book swaps, prominently displayed reviews, assembly presentation of ‘this week’s good read’, book posters and the like?
- Does the school seize every possible moment - eg visits to museums, visits from specialists of any kind, school trips – to support these events and activities with books, eliciting from all and sundry what their favourite books are or were when they were children?
- Are there regular whole school projects (like, say Black History Month, or ‘The Sea’) where a topic or theme can be supported by books of all kinds, all genres and all ages? Is the school on these occasions inundated with books?
- Are assemblies and classrooms frequently a place when children are encouraged to become fascinated by something – anything! – to do with a book or what’s in a book?
- Are the head’s study and teachers’ desks places where special, intriguing, exciting, ever-changing, odd, old, weird books lurk?
- Does the school keep and use book reviews of children’s books from Books for Keeps, Carousel, Times Educational Supplement, Child and Junior Education, The School Librarian, the broadsheet review pages and the internet?
- Is there at least one time every week where children will have nothing else to do with a book other than to read it, listen to it, and chat about it in an open-ended way?
This series of points should not be a utopian wish-list. It should be addressed with exactly - yes, exactly – the same urgency and attention to detail that the whole panoply of reading strategies is given. For every sounding out of ‘per’ and ‘ther’ there is an equivalent attention to detail that can be given to any of these fifteen points.
And the obvious, mind-blowingly simple fact stares us in the face: in the very area where the book-loving culture begins, nursery, reception, years 1 and 2, there is, if you like, a world class range of ‘materials’ (!). No, I’m not referring to the Oxford Reading Tree or the Jolly Phonics books or any all-in-one, solve-all literacy pack. I’m talking about - the picture book.
There it sits like some massive inflorescence, budding and flowering and reproducing in all its delightful, complex and beautiful ways, all freighted with the same impulse – how to please, intrigue, and amuse young children and their carers and teachers. When we look at who makes these books, we are talking here about some of the best people to go through art school, some of the funniest, cleverest, most thoughtful people we have and I’m talking here about the whole team – whoever it is who makes up the words, makes the pictures, designs the books, edits, publishes and prints it.
They produce what is a complex art form, that passes on its meanings, makes its suggestions in ways that call on readers to make many, many creative leaps, many, many investigations, many, many connections between parts of pages, different pages, forwards and backwards through the book.
And it does this inviting, in many different ways: visually, orally, textually and in any combinations of all three. Eye and ear are constantly challenged to look and listen here, there and everywhere. The narrative, is in truth a multi-narrative: one moment told in words, next in pictures, simultaneously in both, sometimes complementing each other, sometimes in contrast with each other, sometimes, even in contradiction with each other. There are often more and more details to be found, there are rhythms to be remembered and re-found, there are shapes, patterns, tones, visual rhythms and compositions to be made sense of.
The strategies that we all adopt as older children and as adults in order to read, stick with and unlock stories are all to be found in picture books: plot and sub-plot, goodies and baddies, mysteries to be uncovered and guessed about, heroes on quests, heroes being tested, loss, compassion, achievement, solidarity, pain, intrigue, subversion, scheming, psychologising, resolution and much more.
What’s more, these books address a complex, multi-faceted audience. Picture books are not solely for or about children. They are artistic interventions into the many different kinds of relationships between children and adults. The reading-situation itself is nearly always one shared by at least one carer and at least one child, or at least one teacher and, nearly always, several children. The books are both for and about these relationships. In the books, parents comfort their children, or get the wrong end of the stick or are indifferent. Surrogate children in the form of animals and soft toys get lost or face tremendous ordeals. These open up moments of talk between adults and children as the book is read on many disparate occasions afterwards. How many times have I been asked by parents who’ve been asked by children, is there a mummy in ‘We’re Going On A Bear Hunt’? Is that larger female figure a mummy or an older sister? Is the bear sad? Did he just want to play? These are the brilliant gaps left by Helen Oxenbury (nothing to do with me, I hasten to add), where talk between children and adults arises spontaneously. And these are serious questions from the child, and of course, about that child itself. The child who asks about the missing mummy is a child, who like all of us, wondered what life would be like without mummy. The child who asks, ‘Is the bear sad,?’ ‘Did he just want to play?’ is the child who at one time wanted to play or join in and couldn’t and was left out.
Meanwhile, adults who, as they read these books with their children, wonder about their own childhoods and wonder about their own parenting, caring and teaching. If you’ve ever been a carer of any kind, it’s impossible to read ‘Not Now Bernard’ without knowing that you’ve been a not-now-Bernard person. It does the work of a hundred guides on parenting, a hundred TV programmes on why you are an inadequate parent. ‘Peepo’ is not just a book. It’s a game and, if this doesn’t sound too dull – it’s not meant to! – it’s a social document. There are a hundred details of the way people used to lead their lives, and any number of unquantifiable feelings attached to those people and objects. This is the stuff that history books leaves out: what it felt like to look in a mirror at the moment that a family faced up to the fact that the man was going off to war. Imagine a whole school project on, let’s say, how we used to live, or World War Two. As the school gears up for visits to the local museum, visits by old people, children go home to quiz their grandparents, a host of books come into the school from Nina Bawden’s ‘Carrie’s War’, through Michael Forman’s ‘War Boy’, archives from the local library or town hall, so ‘Peepo’ can take its place amongst it all. Perhaps the year 1 children will perform it, which will be videoed and there’ll be copies of the book for them to buy so that they never need forget what it felt like to look through those holes and find the next picture. Grandparents can say how they remember their parents talking about bomb shelters and rationing...You would be hard pushed to find any other artistic form that has the power and potential to help create conversations like this.
This is something far too valuable to be let to go into decline or restricted to privileged reading situations.
All this is a what I’ll call the ‘literacy of literature’ not the ‘literacy’, per se. This is not just a matter of how we read, it’s why we read.
I suggest that the question, - why we read – should be addressed with just as much attention as schools are giving to the question of how we learn to read.
And so to point 16: I don’t think any meeting held by teachers to help parents understand what literacy is, should ever be without the presence in the room and the time to look at them, of such books as Trish Cooke’s and Helen Oxenbury’s ‘So Much’, Tony Ross’s ‘I Want My Potty’, Shirley Hughes’s ‘Dogger’, books by Anthony Browne, Penny Dunbar, Michael Foreman, Mick Inkpen, Lauren Child, Quentin Blake, Colin MacNaughton, Emma Chichester Clark and many, many more – apologies to those I’ve not mentioned.
17. There should be Beano annuals and football programmes open at the Junior Supporters pages, there should be books that tie in with TV shows and films.
18. Teachers could and should wrap up a meeting with parents with a read-aloud session, say, of a Julia Donaldson/Axel Scheffler masterpiece, with compulsory joining in!
19. Parents and grandparents should be encouraged to bring in and show off the books and magazines, no matter how humble, that they’ve kept since their childhoods.
Go to Michael's website to read the whole talk from this passionate advocate for children's books and reading. This "book culture" is what was missing from the ERO report on reading in Years 1 and 2... see earlier post in this blog...
