READING IS LEARNT BY READING

Billions of people across the world learn to read using a diverse array of practices – from
the “phonetic” to the “whole sentence” approach. Many children’s first exposure to the
English language is through “nonsensical” rhymes like “Ba-Ba Black Sheep” or “Ring a
ring a roses” – poems which make little sense to their contexts and whose roots are often
macabre. Are there other ways more conducive to get children to read?
Many children experience difficulty with formal reading instruction based on exercises,
material and drills that are to a large extent nonsensical. The philosophy of this kind of
instruction, called “programmatic”, is that reading is a set of skills which can be taught
and mastered in a pre-determined sequence, provided there are frequent tests.
Programmatic instruction is the antithesis of meaningful language experience for teachers
and children. It is primarily a method of control.
Frank Smith in his famous book “Reading” throws light on the process of reading itself.
He proposes the idea of “the literacy club” which children need to join if they are to
become successful readers. At the heart of Frank Smith’s analysis is the seemingly simple
truth that it is only through reading that children learn to read. He describes the ease with
which children become literate when they are personally involved with people actually
making use of the signs, labels, lists, newspapers, magazines and books in the world
around them.

Making Sense
John Holt the famous American educationist recalls a very interesting case. The school
was meant for Black African children and was situated in a low-income area. The
children were not interested in the standard state text books. And if the books and their
contents did not interest the children there was no way the teacher could coerce them into
reading. Many teachers tried the usual ways and failed, until a young lady teacher
changed it all. She was a fresher, just finished her teacher training course and was
looking for new innovative ideas to foster reading. It did not take her long to realize that
her students were not interested in the dry state sponsored text books. Her class was
largely composed of poor Black African students. Most of them had never read or
possessed a book; but their lives were full of music. What she did was simple. She wrote
the popular numbers and songs the children sang in big letters on chart sheets and hung
them on the classroom wall. As the children already knew the songs by-heart they were
soon reading them. For once the written word made “sense” to them – the scribbling on
the charts described their lives, their pains, their aspirations. This interested the children
immensely. This was their “take-off” point in reading.

Context and Relevance
This brings us to the whole question of context and relevance. Often the curriculum is so
far removed from the lives of the learner that he/she fails to make any sense of it. The
plethora of “adult-education” material in India is ample testimony to it. It is often totally
divorced from the life of the learner and the “exploitative” context of his / her life. No
wonder adult education classes never elicited any popular response and died their own
death. The whole vocabulary itself is “loaded” against the un-schooled poor. For instance
the first alphabet in Hindi “Ka” for “Karz” (indebtedness) would be more appropriate for
the dispossessed than “Ka” for “Kabootar” (pigeon). Similar “Sa” for “Sood” (interest on
borrowing) would be more appropriate for the oppressed than “Sa” for “Saraswati”.
Sylvia Ashton Warner in her famous book “Spinster” writes, “What a dangerous activity
reading is; teaching is. All this plastering on of foreign stuff! Why plaster on at all when
there’s so much inside already? So much locked in? If only I could get it out and use it as
working material. And not draw on it either. If I had a light enough touch it would just
come out under its own volcanic power.”
Sylvia was teaching Maori children in New Zealand to read. She stuck “labels” on all
familiar objects in the classroom. Small cards with “fan” “table” “bench” “blackboard”
“door” written on them were stuck at appropriate places. Children would see them often,
read them and soon become friends with them. Sylvia encouraged children to recount
their stories, tell their experiences which she wrote down in the children’s own words.
And because they were the children’s own stories they loved reading them and drew
pictures to illustrate them. In one semester this poor village school in New Zealand
produced over 60 illustrated stories, each a record of their experiences, in short a tapestry
of their own lives.
Following a similar method Paulo Freire began by talking with Brazilian peasants about
the conditions and problems of their lives, and showed them how to read and write those
words which were most important for them. He found that it took only about 30 hours
before the wretchedly poor and demoralised peasants were able to explore reading on
their own. In the process they also traced the roots of their exploitation.

Not the word but the world!
Gijubhai Badheka was a contemporary of Gandhiji. For 24 years he ran the most creative
school for children in Bhavnagar, Gujarat. Everyday he told children a story – which
captivated them and whetted their appetite for more. In the afternoons the children would
enact out those stories. Soon they became so adept with words that there was no need to
mug-up the dialogues by “rote”. If they forgot a few lines, they could “invent” them on
the spot. Gijubhai felt it was totally illogical and foolish for every child to have the same
state sponsored textbook. He said, “What could be more foolish than all the 50 children
having the same book.” So, when the new session began Gijubhai urged the children not
to buy “textbooks” but instead give him the money for buying story books. So, in the
1920’s Gijubhai swept aside textbooks and bought 3 different story books for every child.
With this large collection of illustrated storybooks he started a classroom library. This
was a library with the children’s own money – not gifted by Unicef, Pratham or the
World Bank. Instead of three textbooks children could now read over a hundred
colorfully illustrated storybooks. Gijubhai’s progressive vision of education “not the
word but the world” has been replicated by few schools since independence.

By Arvind Gupta