Tag: teachers

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Sunday Venting: Are The Kids Alright?

When my children were little, everyone kept telling me how I was lucky to have had them close together. That way, they said, they will grow up together and you will be free to enjoy your own life. As my children grow older, I have started having serious doubts about this statement. They will probably drive me insane long before they’re old enough to take care of themselves!

I know how almost everything is blamed on the electronic devices and the screen time that kids get these days, and I have always been unable to manage screen time, but for my kids there might be another reason. Over the last few months, I cannot help but feel if it is the books causing all these problems? The books that my kids read currently are nothing like the books that we used to read.

I understand that things tend to change over time, and what was deemed taboo in our times is up for general discussion everywhere now. However, the overall language, stories and setup of most of the newer books leaves me feeling a bit disgruntled. Maybe it’s age catching up on me, but it has become commonplace to use slang and derogatory words in children’s books. The humour is crude and the characters as far from exemplary as possible.

There is also a clear difference between girls’ books and boys’ books. When I was in school, books were books. They were for everyone. Yes, there were some girlish books, like Anne of Green Gables or Nancy Drew, and some books that were more interesting for boys, like Hardy Boys, but overall they had the same feel. Books like Sweet Dreams or Sweet Valley High, while popular with girls, were not the kind of books we generally found in our school library. So it was mostly through second-hand shops and borrowing from other girls that you could get your hands on such books.

Today, children have a much wider variety of books to choose from, yet to me, they all look and sound the same. Girls’ books are all about chasing boys, dressing up, or hanging out with the “in” crowd. It has become very hard to filter books and even harder to stop girls from being influenced by them. Things are not much better for boys. All fictional boys are either full of toilet humour, engaging in very crass behaviour, or chasing aliens. Some even take out the time to moon over girls!

Of course, all this is a part of life and our children should read about these things, but these are not the only things that matter. Sometimes I find it hard to believe how accepting we have become of bad behaviour in our children. All the shows that my kids watch on TV (and they are only allowed to watch Disney) are about children who have the worst manners and who behave like delinquents in school! They treat their teachers like trash, and their parents don’t seem to fare any better. Similarly, in bookshops, I can find shelves upon shelves of children’s books with protagonists who are a parent’s worst nightmare.

Unfortunately, I don’t know how to change things. I can limit the screen time, but cannot ban it altogether, and I can screen the books, but not when I don’t have other options. Things like the home environment matter, as does the relationship between parent and child, but the reality is that your child is spending most of the day with other kids who are being influenced by all this. It has become quite a struggle to keep a balance and not become complete villains in our children’s lives. The uphill battle continues.

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Review: The Hiding Place (The Taking of Annie Thorne)

Rating: 3 Stars

Ever since I read The Chalk Man last year, I had been waiting for C. J. Tudor’s next. I love thrillers that combine suspense with just the right kind of creepiness. The Chalk Man reminded me of Stephen King, but with less horror and more suspense. The Hiding Place (or The Taking of Annie Thorne) didn’t quite manage to live up to my expectations.

I realize that it is quite unfair to compare two books, as each has its own strengths and weaknesses. Even with that in mind, The Hiding Place turned out to be quite average as far as thrillers go.

There is no doubt that C. J. Tudor is a master storyteller. Her words have the power to transport you into the setting of the story, and actually feel the characters. The problem occurs when the characters are not strong enough to arouse any feelings inside the reader. The worst thing for a character to do is to inspire indifference. This book, while written well, fails to deliver in the give-a-damn department.

Joe Thorne never thought he’d be back in Arnhill. He thought he had left it all far behind; the toxic friendships, the incident at the abandoned mine, the suicide, and most of all, the disappearance of his sister. But he finds himself not only going back, but also lying his way into a teaching position at his former school. He has his own reasons for returning, and trying to stay low-key, one of which is a strange e-mail that he has received.

As soon as he sets foot in his hometown, Joe encounters hostility from old friends as well as new acquaintances. He is not surprised, nor is he deterred from his objective. For he knows what actually happened at the old mine the night that his beloved sister went missing. He was devastated by her disappearance, and thought that there couldn’t be anything worse than that. But he was wrong, because there was something worse that could happen, and it did. His sister came back.

The plot and characters are somewhat reminiscent of Stephen King’s It, which remains to date, the scariest book that I have ever read. But other than the most superficial similarity, The Hiding Place fails to scare and creep out. Even the most horrific scenes felt one-dimensional and just not scary enough. It was like watching a movie where the actors fail to deliver the required emotions and expressions.

It is an average thriller that while interesting will most probably fail to impress the hardcore horror/ thriller fans. However, C. J. Tudor is one writer who I will never hesitate to read, so I’m looking forward to her future endeavors. Hopefully, I will find my next favourite book then.

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Sunday Talks: …But What About The Classics?

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of the ability to read, must be made to read The Classics (with due apology to Jane Austen. Pride And Prejudice remains a favourite of mine).

Ever since I can remember, people have been telling me to read classics and learn to appreciate them. In school, these books were stuffed down our throats until we wanted to tear our hair out. Whenever I asked for suggestions about what to read, the answer would invariably be some classic or the other before even asking me if I was interested. That was only because it is considered unthinkable that you haven’t read at least some “Classic” authors.

Later on, it became a matter of pride to tell people how you have read the most difficult books and love them to no end. Unfortunately, I have never learned to appreciate the “Classics” bar a few which took my fancy at an early age.

Shakespeare has never been a favourite. It might have something to do with reading the abridged form of all his plays for school, but even after reading a few full plays, I have never been impressed. Same goes of Charles Dickens and Thomas Hardy. The only Dickens that I have ever liked is A Tale of Two Cities, and as for Hardy, I admit to having fallen asleep while reading Far From The Madding Crowd.

I can go on and on about books that everyone swears by and that have failed to move me. There have been a few books that have managed to touch me as well, but as a rule I have failed to find an author about whom I can say that I like all their work (unless they have only written one book, and I have liked that book).

It has taken me almost four decades to admit that I have lied about having read a book simply because I was afraid of being judged. Even when I was a kid, I never admitted to anyone how I didn’t find Black Beauty interesting at all, or how Heidi seemed to be a very boring little girl! I think I’m still a bit afraid to say it out loud.

I’m not saying I don’t like classics at all. Some have stayed close to my heart, and even now I don’t know why I like them. Alice In Wonderland, Pride And Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, Rebecca to name a few.

The reason I thought about all this is that my kids refuse to read any “old” books that I tell them to. They want to read what they like, and they’re unapologetic about it. If my daughter doesn’t like Charlotte’s Web, and my son finds Pinocchio insufferable, they don’t hesitate to say it. Over the years, I have learned to stop nagging them about what they “should” read, and started paying more attention to what they “want” to read.

There was a time I used to fill the kids’ shelves with books that I had been given to read when I was their age, forgetting about how I myself felt about these books at that age. Then, when the kids didn’t read them, I got angry because I had spent so much money. I screamed and shouted, and swore never to get them another book again, yet not being able to stop buying more of the same.

My children have made me realize that there is no such thing as a classic. Any well-written book that holds their attention, is a classic for them. And that is how it should be. I shouldn’t expect a 10-year old to care about 19th Century England, when he lives in 21st Century Middle East. I shouldn’t expect a 9-year old to want to know about travelling in horse carts when she has never even experienced public buses. They will get there in due time…if they want to.

Reading books should be about your own likes and interests. It shouldn’t be about what others think you should read, nor should it be about showing off to the world how well-read you are. It is only when we let them enjoy the experience, that people will turn to reading and books. Read and let others read in peace.

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Sunday Views: Whatever Happened to Good Books For Girls?

Yesterday, my daughter was telling me one of her many stories from school, and she asked me if I had ever seen a boy who was interested in girlish activities. I asked her what do “girlish activities” mean, and she told me that they are things like playing with dolls, doing arts and crafts, making loom bands etc. Mind you, this is an almost 9-year-old who has never played with dolls, and whose elder brother was obsessed with making loom bands at one point in time. Naturally, I was very concerned.

I tried to explain to her that there is no such thing as girlish or boyish activities; everyone should be free to do what they like without fear of judgement, and that she needs to support her friends rather than judge them. After all, she has never been interested in dolls, and likes to play volleyball and tennis.

This conversation got me thinking about things that are influencing children’s minds these days, and how it is impossible to keep them away from these influences. I have tried to stay away from assigning gender specific roles to my children. Everyone is supposed to pitch in, and there are no girls’ chores or boys’ chores. Of course there are times when some things are for boys, and some for girls, but by and large, I have encouraged them to do what they like.

A few years back, when the kids were younger and didn’t have access to iPads and laptops, they were only allowed to watch one TV channel, and that too for only an hour. During that hour, there was one cartoon that always made me irritated and I hated that my kids seemed to love it. There was nothing wrong with the cartoon itself as it was about a six-year-old boy called Eliot Kid, who had wild imagination. What made me see red, was the fact that this boy had two best friends, and the girl best friend was in love with Eliot, while Eliot was in love with the most popular girl in his class, who was blonde and a stereotype if I ever saw one! Now, what in the world made the creators of this cartoon think that it is ok for six-year-olds to moon over the opposite sex, effectively telling children all over the world that it is not possible for a girl and a boy to be just friends even at such a young age?

Then, my daughter grew up a bit and started reading. She is not as prolific a reader as her brothers, but she does like to read. At first, I had trouble getting her interested in books since her brothers were more into mysteries and adventures, while she seemed to prefer something different. I was really happy when she found her type of books in The Naughtiest Girl and Malory Towers book series by Enid Blyton. Her reading preferences were different from the boys, but she was her own individual, and I loved that she was different.

Then came the popular books. Kids in her school were reading The Dork Diaries, and I was letting the boys read Diary of a Wimpy Kid, so why couldn’t she read what her friends were reading. Fair enough. Hence started the invasion of books like Dear Dumb Diary, Dork Diaries, and various Jacqueline Wilson books. I had little choice in the matter, not because my daughter is stubborn, but because there are so few options.

I understand that girls and boys have different tastes, and I don’t want to force any of my kids to read anything they don’t want to, but is it necessary to have such a stark contrast between a “boys” book and a “girls” book? While boys are always off on adventures, playing sports, or being naughty at school, girls are giggling away over makeup and boys. I’m sick and tired of reading about girls who don’t fit in because of what they wear, and who suddenly become acceptable because they start wearing makeup and nice clothes; or girls who like boys and spend a whole book trying to catch their attention; or mean girls who have nothing better to do than torment other girls, and who are always the best dressed with their makeup on point.

The books that are being written for upper elementary and middle school age girls are reminiscent of the books I used to read in my teens. I don’t want my daughter to be conscious of her looks or her dressing. She is too young to be worrying about that. She has to learn that she can be friends with everyone without there being an element of romance and talk of crushes. She needs to be comfortable in her own skin, and with all like-minded people, regardless of their gender.

Thankfully, my daughter is being raised with a brother who is just one year older to her, making him her best friend, and both of them comfortable with each other’s friends. However, as they spend more and more time in school, I cannot help but wonder if things will stay this way for long.

Recently, a friend has recommended a few books that seem to be different from the usual books displayed prominently in every bookstore. I’m trying to get these books and can’t wait for my daughter to read them. Until then, I will keep trying to get her to read the A Wrinkle in Time series, and if I’m very, very lucky, maybe Anne of Green Gables.

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Sunday Boredom: Getting Children to Read

Recently, I have come across many posts on social media lamenting the decline in reading in the younger generation. There is a lot of finger-pointing and blaming, and in the end it all falls in the lap of technology and gadgets. It is widely accepted that technology is the reason our children are averse to reading books, preferring to play games on their gadgets to picking up books. I disagree.

I have three living, breathing examples at home, who negate the fact that children don’t read because they are too busy playing on their gadgets. My children are obsessed with their iPads. Believe me, I’m using the term “obsessed” very lightly here. They are deaf and blind when they are playing Minecraft or Roblox, or whatever it is that has their attention at that point in time. I have to scream and shout to be heard, and there are many skirmishes during the day that drive me to the brink of insanity. I try to be strict with their screen time, but with long school hours, and little to do outside in the heat, they manage to get more screen time than they should.

You would think that anyone who is that involved with their games will hardly have time for anything else. Wrong. All three of them have their own bookshelves, almost falling down from the weight of their books, and yet they want to buy more books. Old-fashioned, printed-on-paper books. They are as obsessed with books as they are with their iPads. So, I for one, can never say that technology is responsible for the decline in reading books.

A few days back, a chance comment by someone made me think about what it was that made me and my brothers such voracious readers, while my cousins, who lived in the same house and had the same life experiences as us, could never be the readers that we were. The answer in our case was, our parents and our teachers. No one forced us to read, we just followed the examples of those closest to us.

A misconception about reading is that it needs to be nurtured from an early age, and if your child is not a reader early on, he/she can never become a reader. Age has nothing to do with taking up reading. I have seen teenagers become interested in books even when they have never read one out of school. All it takes is an interested adult, teacher or parent, who can offer them options and open a world for them that appeals to them as individuals.

Someone told me about an incident where a student was reading some book, and the teacher snatched it out of their hands because she considered it age inappropriate. I don’t know why, but hearing about it had a strange effect on me. I’m a big believer in giving children reading material according to their age. What got to me in this incident was the snatching away of the book. You take away one book, they will find another, maybe one even more inappropriate. You make them understand how they have better options, they will probably remember you all their lives.

In my life, I have come across two types of teachers. Those who take the whole class with them on the same journey, keeping them together and making them work towards a set standard. Then there are those who think that every individual has different capabilities, and not everyone can achieve the same standard. I have seen successes in both types of classrooms, but since we’re specifically talking about reading, I believe that it has more chances of being nurtured in the second type of environment.

Every child has different interests and different levels of reading. Making them read something above their level of understanding because others are doing it, creates in them a natural dislike towards books and reading. They need to take their own time learning to read, and they need to read about things that are interesting to them as individuals. Similarly, someone who is above the reading level of other students, will get bored with text that is too easy for them. They need the excitement and thrill that comes with challenging texts.

When I look back to my schooldays, there are three teachers who stand out, who I believe were different from all other teachers. One was my English teacher in grade 6, who encouraged us to set up a small library in our class with our own books, so we had an additional source of books, other than the school library. The second was our school librarian, who was an anomaly in a Pakistani school, being British and all. She got books for our library that other schools hadn’t even heard of. It was thanks to her that we had the full series of Anne of Green Gables in our library, which to this day is one of my most favourite series. The third teacher who left a lasting impression on me, wasn’t a librarian, nor did she ever teach me in a single class. She was the English teacher of the O’Levels classes, and I encountered her in the library mostly. She became the one who recommended books to me, never telling me that I was too young for a particular book. She is the one most responsible for my interest in books other than what the girls in my class were reading. To her, I remain forever grateful.

These days, I’m in a dilemma. I have always known that my children read much above their age levels, and have always encouraged them to do so. Now, however, my thirteen-year-old is reading at a high school level, and I find myself reluctant to allow him to read much of the Young Adult books being written nowadays. While it is gratifying to know that he can read books from my shelf, I don’t want him to grow up before his time.

And this is nothing compared to what the ten-year-old is up to! He has this thing about reading what his brother is reading, and has managed to con me into letting him read Agatha Christie! Actually, I’m having fun seeing him struggling with old English and settings that he can have no clue about. Seeing him read makes me feel proud and horrified at the same time.

As for the youngest, my nine-year-old daughter, she is content with her girly books, which are again, much advanced than what her friends are reading, but as she shows no interest in my books, I can breathe easy for a couple of more years, hopefully. But even she has not given me complete freedom. When I see the books being written for girls her age, I want to burn all these books! What is wrong with these books? Oh, let me count the ways! But I guess that would be a rant best left for another day!

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