I go for walks on my trusty rollator and observe the people around me. Often I see a parent out with a small child, both progressing in silence. Sometimes the parent is chatting on a mobile whilst the little one trudges listlessly at their side. My heartfelt plea is for all adults to talk to the children in their care. I doesn't matter much what it's about: the colours, sights and sounds around, the different ways dogs run after balls, the noise made by wellies splashing in puddles, how the leaves change in autumn - anything that the grown-up can put into language and which will draw out a response from the child. It's fine to discuss how cold feet can feel and if they warm up when you wiggle your toes. You can even lean over a push-chair to converse. Parents - don't leave it to the school; they might not be doing it either.
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Lots to chat about in the park |
I was saddened by a cameo scene in my local park. Just ahead was a group of about 10 toddlers, presumably a nursery school since they all wore yellow tabards. With them were 3 young women. A little boy stopped and stooped down to pick up something that looked like an acorn. He paused to examine it but the grown-up seized him by the arm and pulled him - without speaking - to join the others. Perhaps that was necessary but she, sour-faced and unbending, made no attempt to ask him what he had found, show it to her or tell him about it. What lesson did he learn from that? Better not to be curious about the world around him but to conform in dull silence. No-one was taught that the huge oak tree had grown from such a small beginning. No sense of wonder was aroused. The way the acorn sits so neatly in its tiny cup remained unnoticed. It's better to teach at the moment of interest than reserve it for a set lesson.
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| Hurry up! |
I couldn't get the sadness out of my mind: education does not happen only in the classroom and language is not acquired by silence.
