On school assemblies

[ladyofastolat]

The summer holidays are nearing, and so in the annual summer reading challenge, this year called the Big Wild Read. (Get a medal just for reading books. Read 6 books - any six books - and get a reward. It can do an amazing job in inspiring children to love books. Tell any children you know!) Anyway, I'm now in full-on end of term mode, touring schools doing assemblies to promote the BWR. It always amazes me how unscary I find them, given how shy I am in many other situations, while people who seem far more confident than me socially would rather do pretty much anything in the world rather than talk to a room of 400 people.

Observations on school assemblies:

- It is worrying when the headteacher looks about 21

- Why is that a room of 200 children are incapable of saying, in unison, "Good morning Mrs Bloggs. Good morning everyone," but have to say "Good... morrr...niiinnng... misss... iss... Blogggggssss. Good... morrr... niiinnng... evv... ree... bodd... eeee..." It was like this when I was at school. Is there some secret schoolchild academy where they learn to speak like this?

- When I say, "put your hands up if you think the alligator is going to eat the children, so that only bloody scraps of flesh remain - just as will happen to you, actually, if you're not incredibly good"* the children hear it as, "everyone turn to your friend and discuss in gleeful whispers what you would do if an alligator tried to eat you." (* Okay. I don't actually say it quite like this. Tempting, though...)

- Hymns. Ah, hymns. 90% of assemblies in the last week of term involve the singing of "One more step along the road I go." I'd never heard this until I did my first summer assembly some years ago. Once heard, always in your brain, forever, inescapable. Ah well. At least it beats the Pingle song. *glares darkly at Pellinor.*

- Hymns part 2. Unfortunately, I have an embarrassing habit of getting all teary-eyed when I hear children singing hymns. This is not good when you're on a pedestal in front of 200 children .

- Hymns part 3. What is even worse, though, is when they sing a hymn from memory. Even though it's one you dimly remember from childhood, you cannot remember the words. You either sit there not singing, and set a bad example - "Miss! The library lady wasn't singing! Wasn't she naughty?" - or you open your mouth in a foolish "blah blah" way and try to pretend you're singing. Neither approach is helped by the "Hymns part 2" point, above.

- Is it interesting to note that you can invariably recognise any top year child in the final week of term, even if they are all alone, and thus lacking the context of other, smaller children around them. They exude this sense of being far too important for this petty place now.

Comments

[purplecat]

Gwendolen got signed up for the Big Wild Read ("She's a bit young but we're giving them to everyone" said the librarian) last weekend. She was particularly impressed by the seeds which she got to sprinkle around the base of the new clematis (replacing the mature well-established clematis that the man sub-contracted by the man sub-contracted by the gardener dug out in some fit of presumably makeover show inspired enthusiasm). Bill was concerned that we won't be able to tell the difference between Gwendolen's wild flowers and weeds but I pointed out that we can recognise brambles, thistles and dandelions and anything else is probably largely harmless.

Of the books we borrowed she was most interested in "My First Day at School" which she peruses at bed time in order to ask awkward questions about the philosophy of wearing School Uniforms (Chloe, in the book, wears a school uniform, Lenny does not). We also borrowed "Nothing" by Mick Inchpen which neither Bill nor I can get through without choking up while Gwendolen explains the plot to us in irritated tones and a Little Princess Book - Gwendolen much confused by the ettiquette of wearing one's best shoes especially as the Little Princess wears them in the bath but ultimately decides not to wear them to parties.

Three books to go and she'll get her medal...

[ladyofastolat.livejournal.com]

Oh, good. I always let any child join in, regardless of age. I define "read 6 books" as "enjoy 6 books, even if someone else is reading them," so I let babies join - and also let 16 year olds join, if they want to. (Most don't.) The Reading Agency does keep saying it's only for 4 - 12 year olds, though, so I always feel faintly guilty - as if I'm doing it as a sneaky way to make my joining figures look more impressive. I also let them count 3 books per visit. Some library authorities insist on 6 separate visits to get a medal. We're not starting it until Friday, though, which will reduce my numbers a bit.

Hope the flowers grow! I'm glad to hear she was excited. There has been a distinct lack of "wow!" vibes when I've mentioned the seeds in the assemblies, although the adults always like the idea. The materials are a lot more dull and worthy-looking than previous years. Last year's spy theme went a bit over the head of the younger children, though.

[gileswench.livejournal.com]

What a great program! If there'd been one like this when I was a kid, my bedroom probably would have been papered in medals for it. I wonder if there's one like it over here, now.

[ladyofastolat.livejournal.com]

It is an excellent programme. It's been running nationally over here for around ten years. As well as the medal, children get all sorts of other goodies - e.g. stickers, bookmarks etc. - as they read. Central to it is the idea that children can read anything they like - easy, hard, fiction, non-fiction. This is what inspires the reluctant readers. They can read six non-fiction books about wrestling, if they want, and it still counts. It can be an enormous confidence booster for children who struggle with reading, since they can get a medal just the same as the clever children. It can turn children into readers for life.

As you can tell, I can talk passionately about it for hours on end, with the slightest provocation. And frequently do. :-)

[gileswench.livejournal.com]

As you can tell, I can talk passionately about it for hours on end, with the slightest provocation. And frequently do. :-)

And I consider that superfantastic! Go tell it on the mountain, lady!

[kargicq.livejournal.com]

I always liked "One more step"! It has a picture locked with it in my mind -- just a random piece of road from the village I grew up in, a tall old brick wall curving round a corner, and a sense of something significant around the corner. No idea why that got so firmly attached to the song in my head, beyond the obvious road theme. Haven't sung it for years....
Neuromancer

[ladyofastolat.livejournal.com]

I'm always surprised how many of my old primary school hymns are still sung - although we never sang that one. Some of them I can still remember almost all the way through. Others I can't actually remember any line... yet when the children sing it, every line vibrates with familiarity, and if the words are carved somewhere deep inside me, where they will never quite fade.