A teacher’s life is difficult! More so when she has to find herself in the company of ever scheming children, every single day! I’m sure that those of you who are teachers have faced this. At least one child’s parent must have told you, “My child seems to be seeking excuses to give school a miss!” And your mind would have raced through various possibilities about who could be responsible for the child’s reluctance to attend school. The principal? The caregiver? The midday meal not being good enough? The bad score he got on a test recently? No, no, it could be this fight he keeps having with this girl at school? Ah, the math teacher?! Oh! Wait a minute – YOU?! I can just about imagine the number of thoughts that might come and go in a flash before you go “Thud!”.

Poor you. I can empathize with you. I was there too.

But before you think that I have no sympathy for the schemesters in your class, let’s pause for a bit.

Have you ever had a chance to read Calvin and Hobbes? If yes, we all know how Calvin loves going to school, how he loves being a part of that class where his teacher is giving him lessons in math, vocabulary building, right? He loves the fact that he gets to enroll himself on that game around sports period? And oh, how he loves doing his homework! The cartoon strips that follow might jog your memory about Calvin’s engagement with school!

Calvin speaks for most children that I know. He speaks for many of us, when we remember our own childhood experiences at school.

Umm, what is it that you’re trying to get to?, you may ask. Let’s for a bit go back to the last comic strip above, when Calvin says he could not appreciate the moments at school. What could you do as a language teacher to make at least some moments at school worthwhile for children like him? What could you do to help him get great pleasure in being right here, right now, doing what he’s doing, in your classroom?

If we begin asking ourselves such questions, I’m sure we would discover that there is a great deal we could do to ensure that our children learn, and eagerly at that. I have come to understand that one of the central ways by which teachers can help ensure that children have a fairly good experience as they learn, is by investing in building strong interpersonal relationships and bonding. I have also come to believe that children’s literature can play a very important role in this process. Children’s literature introduces many possibilities for creating motivation, a sense of appreciation of others, of bonding and belongingness, a sense of love, respect, compassion for, and responsibility towards one another. And you can do this without sounding “preachy”, because the stories and the issues that they raise, the conversations that you have around them, may model these attitudes subtly, yet consistently. Therefore, rather than investigating the literary merits of using children’s literature in the classroom, or considering its impact on children’s cognitive development, my focus in this piece is to emphasize the role of children’s literature in meaningful relationship building in the classroom.

I have worked as a teacher in various settings – an alternative school, a bridge school for migrant children, and a library at a government school - each unique in the sense that the contexts were very distinctive, but the experiences that the children and I had around children’s literature were somewhat similar in certain respects.  Each of these spaces offered different challenges for me as a teacher, but the most striking of them all was this strong need that I felt to make that personal connect with the children. As teachers, we all experience this at some point or the other – that moment when you realize there is something amiss and we – the children and the teacher – go about doing what seems like an ‘act’ of teaching and learning. At such times, teaching and learning feel like more of a routine, like we are rehearsing for that play that will never meet an audience!

As I began my journey as a teacher in each of the spaces I worked in, the initial days were testing, because the children and I did not know each other well. We know children trust easily, but there is a little gap between that phase when you’re a stranger to them – the lone adult in the classroom - and the time when they accept you as being one among them. Bridging this gap hangs on this little, but very important detail of being accepted by the children.

I have always used children’s literature as an indispensable part of my language and literacy classroom. My classes always have a classroom library with books that are handpicked from a variety of sources. As I went reading aloud to children, I slowly but definitely noticed a change in the nature of my interactions with the children. And to me, this is the highlight and it has stayed with me consistently through my teaching journey.

I would like to share a couple of these experiences with you, to give you a sense of what I mean.

This incident happened within a month of my joining the alternative school as a class teacher. It was a Monday morning, and my group (a bunch of highly energetic 8 year olds!) and I knew that we were to head to a neighboring farm for a read aloud, as part of the English class. By now I had sensed that the children were warming up to this practice. We all sat under a huge tree in a circle and I began reading aloud.  The story I read to them that day was Virginia Wolf by Kyo Maclear. Virginia Wolf is a heart-warming story of how the older sister, Vanessa tries her best to soothe her little sister, Virginia who is feeling rather wolfish, as she is facing those blues. As I read this story, like always, I would pause at intervals and ask my group a few questions to make sure they are comprehending the story and that they were with me, mentally. It was an interactive read aloud, you see J. As I did that, I (and maybe, ‘we’) noticed something beautiful was transpiring between us. As we made progress, I found 3-4 children were by now perched up a tree. A few others lay there on the ground, looking relaxed and content. As they listened intently, M had a question to ask. “Harshita, what would you do if you felt like Virginia, what if you felt like you were in the doldrums?” While I was thrilled that he used the word ‘doldrums’ what happened as I responded and soon after is a memory that I will cherish for a very long time. I said, “Umm... I would imagine myself sitting on a cloud and probably would want to drift away, just so I forget what troubles me at that time…”. Two children who were perched up the tree, looked down at me and with a certain kindness in their voice said to me, “Harshita, would you want to take us onto that cloud?”. In my heart there was silence, something happened and of course, I just nodded and quickly gathering myself, I said rather emphatically, “Yes, in fact I’d like all of you up there on that cloud with me!” And of course, I asked them the same question, and each child, even the most reticent among them all had something very precious to share about his/her own ways of dealing with the blues. Each sharing is way too precious to give away, even as an example. Those magical moments made a whole lot of difference in how the children started warming up to me as a person. It was those moments that defined how we would soon be one big group of learners in our collective journey in a space we called “our school”.

Then, there was another story that helped break the ice. This was in the bridge school and it was the first time I was reading aloud to them. It was a story from Kenya, called Mama Panya’s Pancakes. It’s a beautiful story about a boy named Adika who believes in sharing that very occasional, special meal of pancakes with his many friends even if it means he gets to eat very little himself. It gives us valuable insights into community bonding and how in sharing and part-taking, there is much we could build on – be it love, trust, a sense of belonging. Weeks later, I would have this little girl tell me how she remembered this story as she took me to her home along with another teacher and offered us a special preparation of beaten rice, jaggery, desiccated coconut and cumin—considered as festive food for a special occasion.

There are many instances such as these, and each a pearl, firmly planted in my heart. There are some stories that will never fail you if you want to make a lasting impression in your language class. To name a few special ones – The Mountain That Loved a Bird (Hakkiyannu Preethisida Betta in Kannada), Basava and The Dots of Fire, (Basava Mathu Benkiya Chukke in Kannada), Ju’s Story, The Why Why Girl, The Boy Who Asked Why?,  The Heart and the Bottle, Charlotte’s Web, and many other gems!

Stories help you to have a conversation with young people. These conversations are special in that, they help us make connections to our own lives and in doing so, make space for our own tales of sharing to take shape. As these stories take shape, there is something magical being woven between you and the children. And these are not isolated incidents that will be soon forgotten. These are memories that will last and the bonds that are built are bound to last, as well.

I hope that I have convinced you that if you use children’s literature consistently in your classroom, your young friends will hold you close to their hearts and you may well be the reason why they come to school, or stay in school. And what’s more, you can be assured that this also has implications for children’s learning of language and literature. I know a few children who started enjoying reading so much more after the read aloud sessions, and gained confidence, interest and a sense of self-efficacy that is so vital to learning!