Or trusting children to learn in their own time
I have been rather busy recently, my eyes glued to the computer screen, my mind miles away.
“Please can we use the scrapbooking paper, Mum?”
“Yes, you may.”
“Please can I borrow your stapler, Mum?”
“Huh? Oh yes, it’s on my desk.”
For a couple of hours I was vaguely aware that Sophie and Gemma-Rose were very busy doing something. I wasn’t sure exactly what they were doing…
“Mum, look! We’ve made some notebooks!”
I glanced up from my computer and I was impressed, very impressed. The girls had neatly folded a stack of coloured paper to make a book and then they’d added an artistically decorated cover.
When did Sophie and Gemma-Rose learn how to do such things without my help? Isn’t it my job to do the folding so all the pages fit together properly? Aren’t they supposed to ask me for advice on how to bind everything together? The girls had huge grins on their faces. They were obviously enormously satisfied with what they’d achieved on their own.
I returned to my computer. Over the sound of my key-tapping, I could hear Gemma-Rose and Sophie discussing something. Soon Gemma-Rose approached me.
“We want to write some letters, Mum. Will you help me with mine?”
Gemma-Rose seemed satisfied with this and she went off to search for paper and a pencil.
So I finally closed up my computer and gave the girls my full attention. And I was absolutely amazed. I could read the whole of Gemma-Rose’s letter without a problem and she had made very few spelling mistakes. It was all very neatly written too.
When did Gemma-Rose learn to write a proper interesting letter without any prompting from me? When did her spelling improve so dramatically? And isn’t she supposed to scrawl when I don’t remind her to form her letters with care?
A few days earlier, I’d been thinking that the girls hadn’t written anything for a while. I’d been wondering if I should give them a gentle push. Should I insist they write something? But all those thoughts had been rather vague. As I said, my mind was occupied with projects of my own. Now I am so glad I didn’t make an issue of writing.
I learnt a lot from this notebook experience. I realise that sometimes it looks like not much learning is happening. I could start to worry and want to interfere. But if I have the courage to wait and trust, all of a sudden, my children amaze me with their progress.
The best thing wasn’t the well written letters or the improved spelling or the very professional looking notebooks. It was the huge grin on Gemma-Rose’s face. It expressed all the satisfaction and pleasure she’d obtained from working hard on a project of her own choosing.
Can we trust children to learn what they need to know. I think the answer is ‘Yes!’