Let them tell the story

Let Them Tell the Story Thinking, reading, speaking and writing: four simple habits that last a lifetime. Our two granddaughters, aged five and three, have discovered storytelling. I started them off with a few tales, but they have taken over, and their imagination knows few boundaries. Every story seems to need two children, a grandmother, a wolf and a dark forest, with a cat usually appearing somewhere along the way, followed by thunder, dinosaurs and an angry tiger with large teeth. They provide all the sound effects, while I do my best to look suitably horrified. The plots grow more elaborate with every telling, yet the girls need no prompting to invent characters, add unexpected twists and keep going for as long as I am willing to listen. Watching them, I am reminded of what more than four decades in education have taught me: some of the most valuable learning happens without a lesson plan, a worksheet or a mark. Examinations and qualifications certainly matter, but I have come to value four habits that serve children well long after their schooldays are over: thinking, reading, speaking and writing. They are closely connected, and their foundations can be laid in the simplest ways, often without children even realising they are learning. Room to think We are remarkably good at keeping children occupied. Between school, homework, tuition, sport and other activities, their days can be planned almost to the minute, largely because we want them to have every opportunity to succeed. Yet, in our enthusiasm to prepare them for the future, do we sometimes leave too little room for them simply to be themselves? A child lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling may appear to be doing nothing, but the mind has a life of its own, wandering through memories, revisiting conversations, asking questions and making connections. Not every worthwhile thought arrives in response to a teacher's instruction, and not every quiet moment needs to be filled by an adult. I start my day very early and value the peace before the telephone begins demanding attention. Sometimes I read or attend to work, while on other mornings I simply sit and think; it gives me a chance to put things in perspective before the day gathers pace. Children deserve a little of that freedom, too, without a screen to entertain them or an adult asking what they are doing. And when a thought or a question takes hold, a book can give the mind somewhere to travel. From the bookstall to the debating hall My love of reading began in the 1960s and 1970s, when I would cycle to a second-hand bookstall, borrow a book for next to nothing, finish it and return for another. A good story could keep me occupied for an entire afternoon because I was eager to discover what happened next, and nobody had to persuade me to turn another page. Those books introduced me to unfamiliar places, different people and ideas I might never otherwise have encountered. Reading entertained me, but it also broadened my horizons and gave me things to think about and discuss, which is why I believe children should discover its pleasures before it becomes another school requirement. Let them choose what interests them, read aloud to them when they are young and, just as importantly, let them see you enjoying a book yourself. It is difficult to persuade children that reading is a pleasure when the adults around them cannot put their phones down. Children notice the difference between what we tell them and what we do. Books also give us something to talk about, although having something to say and having the confidence to say it are two different things. I discovered this in Grade 11, when I took part in a debate on ‘Democracy is the best form of government for India’. I did not win, but the experience stayed with me and sparked an interest that continued throughout my life. Later, as an educator, I coached pupils for debates, elocution competitions and public speaking, hoping to give them the same opportunities to discover their voices. One former pupil, who now heads a large firm in India, once told me how much public speaking had helped him throughout his career, crediting his school for nurturing that interest. It was gratifying to know that an experience from his schooldays had remained useful so many years later. A child need not win a competition to benefit from speaking in public; learning to present an idea, ask a question or disagree respectfully builds confidence that can prove invaluable in adult life. The foundations, however, are often laid much earlier, around the family table, when children discover that their opinions are worth hearing. Putting phones aside, asking about their day and listening patiently can make a real difference, even when a five-minute account stretches to twenty. My granddaughters, for instance, have yet to discover the virtue of brevity, but I would not want them to lose their enthusiasm. It is far easier to help a child organise an idea when that child is eager to share it, and eventually those ideas may find their way onto paper. Finding the words My own introduction to writing was hardly enjoyable. My handwriting resembled a doctor's prescription, so I was made to fill a page every day to improve it. At St Joseph's, Allahabad, the summer holidays in Grades 4, 5 and 6 brought another assignment: twenty compositions, each about a page long. So much for a carefree holiday! I certainly did not appreciate the value of these exercises at the time, but looking back, I can see how the discipline helped me develop a habit that proved useful much later. The pleasure of writing came gradually, once the practice had become part of me. Children need opportunities to write for reasons other than marks, whether through a diary, a letter to a grandparent or an imaginative story of their own. Grammar and spelling matter, but if every effort comes back covered in corrections, the pleasure can quickly disappear. We want children to take care with their words without becoming so anxious about mistakes that they stop expressing themselves. Writing makes us slow down, choose our words and decide what we really mean. Sometimes an idea that seems perfectly clear in our heads becomes less convincing when we try to explain it on paper, and that is part of the learning. This matters particularly today, when artificial intelligence can produce an essay or summarise a book in seconds. It can be a useful aid, but children still need to understand what they submit and explain it in their own words; otherwise, the task may be finished without the learning taking place. Looking back over my years in education, I see how naturally these four habits support one another. Reading gives us ideas, reflection helps us make sense of them, speaking allows us to share them and writing helps us express them clearly. Together, they prepare children not just for examinations but for the decisions, conversations and challenges that await them beyond school. We need not turn every childhood interest into another activity to be assessed. Sometimes, a little quiet, a good book, a conversation or a blank page is quite enough. As for my granddaughters, I expect another story tonight, with the wolf returning to the dark forest, the tiger angrier than ever and the cat inevitably complicating matters. I shall listen carefully, resist the temptation to improve the plot and look suitably horrified. There will be time enough for editing when they are older.