31 DAYS OF GENTLENESS
The Art of Empowering Children Using Gentleness
Day 9: Children need to feel important
William* slunk into the library. He glanced about, taking stock of the other children playing; quickly, he chose a book from the returns trolley then sunk into the storytime chair near my desk.
Every day that week, the pattern repeated. It's usually a sign that friendship troubles have soured the playground fun. When William was back the next week, his shoulders heavy with the weight of the world, I knew the playground troubles were more than a minor rumble.
Some children attempt to play with younger children when they are lonely to find a place — any place. Others intuitively know that this won't solve their problems, and may even draw attention from bullies. These children usually turn to books.
Reading is a magical way of diverting our attention from our troubles, of transporting us into other lands where fire-breathing dragons rule the sky and magic abounds. But sometimes, our thoughts crowd in and prevent us from being whisked away into someone else's imagination. Although William had always been a good reader, this was of those days.
Clearly agitated, William couldn't focus on his book. He needed more than the magic that words weave. He needed a distraction and a purpose. With a carefully selected armload of books, I called out to William, "I really need some help. Do you know where these books live?"
William nodded, and I continued, "Great, do you think you can put them away for me?"
William scooped up the books, then carefully and methodically put them all back in their right places. At the end of lunch, he strolled out, a little straighter than he'd come in. The load he carried was just a smidgeon lighter.
For the next month, William came into the library and went straight to the returns trolley to put books away. Each morning, I would carefully stack the trolley. Initially, only the books with easily identifiable homes were on the trolley. Gradually I increased the difficulty until William could read the spine labels correctly and place every book properly without assistance — even the non-fiction in Dewey Decimal order.
William's time at lunch became meaningful. He had a purpose. One lunchtime, I pulled him aside, "Would you like to learn how to use the computer to check books in and out?"
William nodded enthusiastically. He learned quickly and was soon zapping away.
With the swivel chair and the library barcode scanner comes great responsibility — William had to talk to other students. At first, he merely asked their names so he could scan their books. Gradually his confidence improved; soon, he started chatting about the books they were borrowing.
This year, William officially became a Library Monitor — part of the school's Student Leadership. With the position came a badge. And with that badge, William's confidence soared.
Lunchtimes are different for William now. Somedays, he sits at the library desk, ready to chat to the students who now flock to him for book recommendations. He strolls amongst the students on the library floor other days — stopping to help someone find a sharpener, commenting on someone's coloring in, or assisting students to look for a book. And occasionally, William sits in the back, in the Senior section, and just hangs with his friends.
But whichever path William takes, his shoulders are upright — the boy who slunk into the library eighteen months ago is nowhere to be seen. William walks confidently because he's found his place in the school.
To me, there has always been a big difference between the children who want to be Library Monitor so they can wear a special badge and those who need to wear the badge.
*Name changed to maintain privacy
Sandi Parsons is an award-winning school librarian with over 20 years experience working in educational libraries. Sandi was a Children's Book Council of Australia, Book of the Year Award Judge (2020, 2021 Early Childhood Category). She believes that every child has the right to see their lives accurately represented in literature.