Encountering writing
He comes to me with a piece of paper and a pencil, this Year 2 boy with his chubby cheeks and mischievous grin.
“Do you want to join my play group?”
“When is it?” I ask.
“After school, every day. If you want to, just write your name on the line.”
This is the second year I’ve been visiting his class. Early on, he always asked what I was doing with the little notebook I carry around with me. “Writing notes to help me think,” I would say. Late last year he wrote my name on the cover so it wouldn’t get stolen by a bad guy.
We know each other pretty well now. We’ve both got each other into trouble - like when the principal found him at the school gate with his backpack on, a couple of hangers-on, and a treasure map, which I’d drawn and annotated … I’ve learned not to push his imagination too far because things get real and big very quickly.
I look at the bit of paper. On the top line is the principal’s name, but with this next to it - (I can’t come today because I have a meeting).
I add my name.
Later on, I see him sitting alone at a table, hunched over his list, writing. And I think to myself, here’s a kid who, despite all his rascalness and difficulty with formal learning, is willing to write and through that is learning that writing is valuable. Let’s put more focus on that.