This is the second piece of my short series about the boys’ literacy work I’ve been doing (subscribe so you don’t miss a post). Over the course of an academic year, I visited Ferndown Upper School multiple times to talk about books with different groups of boys aged 13-18.
Here’s the first piece introducing the problem in broad terms:
This second piece explores how freedom is embedded as a key principle throughout the sessions, enabling the boys to reconsider how they see books.
A couple of visits ago, me and the boys read aloud from a book. We went around the table and read a paragraph each.
We stumbled and faltered, got embarrassed and mumbled and we all laughed but also, with each completed paragraph there was applause, whoops, get in sons, reactions you’d associate with goals going in at 5 a side. We went around the whole group twice.
I was a kid who liked reading aloud. I enjoyed the liberty to put expression into the sentences, to do a good job of reading them, to interpret the text into actual words that rolled out of my mouth for everyone to hear. In a classroom environment, that interpretation feels like a small slice of freedom.
Back to the boys, we spoke about how being able to read can set you free and the ability to speak out loud, to have people hear your voice and be convinced of what you have to say is a life skill. Mastering those skills will enable you to do anything you want in life. Failing to do so, will keep you stuck wherever it is you are.
The boys are at different stages of their schooling but are being made to think about their futures, choosing subjects that will open or close different pathways for them. They are already considering their possibilities so this is a good time to explore what that means with them.
freedom from the screens
One little bit of the sessions I do is to just bring a handful of books along to show the boys. They might be books I loved growing up, or new books I’m reading right now. I try to bring a mix.
‘Here they are,’ I want to say. ‘Here are just some of the possibilities. Hold them in your hands.’
Books are usually not offered but foisted on them, an unavoidable consequence of their exam requirements. Even I as an avid, lifelong reader, used to slightly resent being told what to read on my English Literature undergraduate degree. If I was a boy with no affinity with books then as they’re currently presented, I’d probably see them as an annoyance too.
But giving the boys the freedom to pick the books up, examine them, ask questions about them, to give them some agency and choice, these are sensations they’re not necessarily used to with books.
It also shows them there’s a huge range of possibilities within books they may not be aware of beyond their set texts. I’ve been creating a short book syllabus designed to showcase various genres and perspectives so I can make a quick read recommendation to anyone keen to try something new. I’ll share the list in a future post.
They’re also not used to giving something their full attention.
The boys know their attention is cooked. They tell me how they can’t concentrate so we talk about how to sit down and read and how to really pay attention. We all know the gift and the curse of the smartphone in your pocket. The boys know it too. We talk about the mental health benefits, how just six minutes of reading can significantly lower stress (Sussex University’s Mindlab found a 68% reduction), and about how flicking through pages rather than feeds can help them sleep ( a physical benefit that appeals to sports-mad boys).
The freedom from the smartphone manifests algorithmically too. Haruki Murakami said,
If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.
Now that everyone queries ChatGPT and TikTok for everything, and the boys do, reading any books constitutes a break for freedom. The filter bubble is ever more difficult to escape, particularly when the boys’ LLM dependency is combined with whatever their social media algorithms are showing them.
Reading broadly, choosing a range of diverse authors and topic, bursts these bubbles, freeing us from the tyranny of the algorithm and we have powerful discussions about intellectual independence and the reliability of information online. These are more key skills, not only for their future but for right now.
reading as power
It’s easy to forget that the reason why reading was controlled in the past, and is still controlled under some regimes today, is because people understand that books reveal a multiplicity of worlds. They show us the many different ways that a life can be caged or free. They offer us powerful access to knowledge, which can in turn expand our sense of agency. And once people have a sense of agency, almost anything seems possible.
– Enuma Okoro
There’s a reason repressive regimes come for books. They’re dangerous, places of freedom of thought and expression that need to be curtailed. Books are so powerful. Even now, democratic societies look to control what they say.
And it’s important that in the sessions, the boys have the power to say things, to ask questions, to give their opinions, even if they’re controversial or just wrong. We interrogate ideas, we make connections between words on the page and feelings in our chest. There are no marks or grades, they are free from assessment. They’re even free to not read the book but when I come back, we will discuss what that means too.
Each session has a set of learning outcomes and principles to guide us (I’ll outline these in a later post) but giving the boys agency over what we talk about is really important. The loose structure contrasts with their usual experience of books in the classroom and enables us to perhaps go deeper and broader with what we talk about. They leave with a markedly different way of thinking about books.
Throughout the sessions, the boys get to see that reading is about far more than just their academic metrics, although it definitely helps those. It’s about their freedom, their agency, and their personal growth. Reading is a route to wherever they want to go that doesn’t rely on anyone else but them. It’s a seductive message.
Towards the end of one session, I could tell one boy had his eyes on a book of Greek myths I’d brought with me. Afterwards, I asked him if he wanted to take it home. His eyes lit up.
I later heard from his teachers that that boy is now going to bed 30 minutes earlier each night to read about Greek gods and heroes. It all feels worthwhile when you hear a story like that.
The next article is here! It’s a range of suggested books to get boys into books without forcing it.
