The Language Police have arrived.
In our home we are getting fined every time we speak in the wrong language. Yesterday we all had to speak only English, and today we all have to speak only Chinese. Yesterday was very relaxing for me, but today it is pretty tough going.
Why are we stressing ourselves out in this way?
The girls' third cousin, from China, is staying with us for the next several days over the school holidays. This year she moved to Christchurch and is attending secondary school there. Of course she is fluent in Chinese, but her English is still at the level of simple conversation. Whenever she stays with us, she and the rest of the Chinese folk chat away in Chinese, and she doesn't get a chance to practice her English.
So, we needed to get the police involved to enforce the right language.
But for the sake of fairness, the police decided to challenge me, too, and require that I work a bit harder on my Chinese.
The inspiration for all this was the Chalet School books (I think Mulan has read about 59 of the 62 books in the series). The girls in the books speak multiple languages, and the school has set days for each language. There are fines (real money) for infringements.
We are not at the level of real money, but yesterday Mulan and Miya spent a few hours making paper money for all of us. Each day we are given $30 in our own purse, and each time we use the wrong language we need to pay a little into the fines box. If we run out of money before the end of the day, then Mulan and Miya won't cook our eggs at breakfast/lunch.
This is all very well and good in theory, but, after being eager to set up the system, Miya has been the one who has had the most problems. This is not because Miya is struggling with either English or Chinese -- she is fluent in both -- but it's because she is so used to speaking to me in English and Mama in Chinese that she feels very stressed at using the other language with each of us. As we all know, seven-year-olds are very chatty, and she likes to chat comfortably with us.
So, we have agreed that Miya can have times off from having to follow the rules, and also that Mama and I can chat to her in our respective languages, if she wants.
We'll see over the next several days how all this forced language practice works out for us all.
Saturday, 21 April 2018
Friday, 20 April 2018
What is a teacher?
(Updated and moved to the front 20/4/2018)
The proposed bill, the Education (Protecting Teacher Title) Amendment Bill, is certainly thought-provoking.
It raises the question of who counts as a teacher. Is a teacher anyone who teaches, regardless of context? Or to count as a teacher must someone also pass some other sort of requirement (such as some suitable expertise, experience, qualification or registration, etc)?
Our everyday English word is, understandably, both vague and ambiguous about this. It is vague because it is unclear how much teaching one needs to do to be appropriately called a teacher. And it is ambiguous because, depending on context, we sometimes mean different types of occupations or roles.
For example, sometimes we are pretty wide with the definition, such as when, perhaps at the most extreme, we say that a parent is a child's first teacher. Other times, towards the other extreme, we might more narrowly mean to be referring to just those who work in weekday schools teaching 5 to 18-year-olds.
But those who support the proposed bill appear to want to move away from this everyday multiple-meanings approach to the word, instead creating a technical/legal/jargon meaning that is very precisely defined. Furthermore, they wish to restrict usage of the word and fine ($2000) those who use the word differently.
The immediate response is to ask why.
The answer seems to be that Charter Schools made it possible for people who had no formal teaching qualifications to teach in (weekday, children's) schools (although they would have surely had some other, subject-matter, competence/expertise). Consequently, it was more difficult for students (and their parents) to know who at that school was a formally trained teacher and who was not.
And some saw this as a problem. They thought it important to know the difference. Implicitly (and sometimes explicitly), they thought there was an educational quality difference or a professional status difference.
Consequently, one proposed solution (given in the proposed bill) to this supposed problem is to restrict the word "teacher," such that it only refers to those who have some specified formal tertiary qualification in education (Bachelor of Education, Graduate Diploma of Teaching, or equivalent). Unless you have this tertiary qualification in education, you are not a teacher and cannot call yourself one.
According to this NZ Herald article*** from a couple of days ago, it seems that the proposed bill is not "hard and fast", and lots of discussion is currently happening regarding the details.
Stepping back for a moment, it seems to me that there are two broad ways in which a person may get into teaching (with some overlap).
The first way is that the person learns some particular subject for a length of time such that they become suitably proficient in it. At this point they may start imparting their subject knowledge/skills to others -- that is, teaching them. Since they haven't specifically learnt how to teach, they might not be all that good at getting the subject matter across to their students. Their ability to teach will depend largely on the luck of their personality, as well as their ability to learn on the job. But because they haven't explicitly trained as a teacher, they might never stumble across certain teaching details that a more systematic training would have taught them.
The second way is that the person learns primarily about education and how to teach. They might not have spent as much time learning specific knowledge/skills (aside from education), but at least they have teaching skills and knowledge, which allows them to (better) get their message across to their students. The correctness of the content of what they teach will then depend on the adequacy of their earlier life experiences, and their ability to learn on the job. Hopefully they will have picked up enough knowledge/skills to get the facts right in the subject they are teaching, but, all things being equal, they won't know as much as someone who specifically trained in the subject.
In other words, someone who trained mostly in the subject may not be able to get their message across as well, even if they know their stuff. Someone who trained mostly in teaching may get the subject matter wrong more often, even if they are able to get it across.
It seems then, that those who support the proposed bill are prioritising the second way to get into teaching over the first way. Why is this? Are they significantly better at it? And is there empirical evidence for this?
If there is no evidence for this, then is this a case of prejudice?
And if there is evidence for this, then why allow schools to hire these less competent teaching staff in the first place?
Regardless of this, why go to the extreme of redefining the word "teacher"? Why not simply call those who have the approved qualifications "qualified teachers"?
Having said all this, the above discussion ignores the many different types of teaching, a lot of which does not involve teaching weekdays to 5 to 18-year-old children.
For many of these other teaching areas, the required tertiary qualifications listed in the bill may be mostly irrelevant to their needs, with topics and issues covered that don't apply in these other teaching environments. For example, those who teach adults or small groups don't need to learn the details of classroom management of children.
Instead, these teaching areas often have their own subject-specific teaching qualifications, that are typically adequate to the teaching needs in those subjects. There are many Certificate or Diploma-level teaching qualifications out there, specific to the subject to be taught.
Are those who teach in these other areas, and with these other teaching qualifications, going to be penalised because of the potential for confusion in that one particular teaching environment?
Whatever the case about my musings above, if this bill passes, it seems that Mama (who has been classroom teaching for over 20 years and has published textbooks as well as research articles on teaching) will no longer be able to call herself a teacher. I hope this won't result in her having a mid-life identity crisis.
And as for us homeschoolers, I suppose we will just get on with teaching our children, whatever we happen to get called.
***To jump to the top of the class, spot the there/their mistake in the NZ Herald article!
UPDATE (20/4/2018): When I am looking at issues I try to be as charitable as I can with people's ideas -- presenting and fairly examining the best possible versions of people's stated ideas. But another approach is to ignore their stated reasons and examine their underlying motivations.
Discussing this idea yesterday with Yeye (who is a "real" teacher, with a Diploma of Teaching, and whose university major was politics), we raised the idea that these stated reasons, above, are beside the point.
Maybe the real reason for this proposed bill is control. Firstly, the bill is being proposed by the political party New Zealand First. And secondly, the Diploma of Teaching arguably trains teachers to conformity, by breaking them down through extreme stress and rebuilding them in the politically desirable form. Upping the professional status of those who get trained in this way, and denying the name to teachers who have not trained in this way, increases the control of those in authority. 1984-style thought control by language control.
I guess certain homeschoolers will sympathise with this conspiracy theory understanding of schooling!
UPDATE (8/5/2018): According to this NZ Herald article, the proposed bill has been withdrawn.
The proposed bill, the Education (Protecting Teacher Title) Amendment Bill, is certainly thought-provoking.
It raises the question of who counts as a teacher. Is a teacher anyone who teaches, regardless of context? Or to count as a teacher must someone also pass some other sort of requirement (such as some suitable expertise, experience, qualification or registration, etc)?
Our everyday English word is, understandably, both vague and ambiguous about this. It is vague because it is unclear how much teaching one needs to do to be appropriately called a teacher. And it is ambiguous because, depending on context, we sometimes mean different types of occupations or roles.
For example, sometimes we are pretty wide with the definition, such as when, perhaps at the most extreme, we say that a parent is a child's first teacher. Other times, towards the other extreme, we might more narrowly mean to be referring to just those who work in weekday schools teaching 5 to 18-year-olds.
But those who support the proposed bill appear to want to move away from this everyday multiple-meanings approach to the word, instead creating a technical/legal/jargon meaning that is very precisely defined. Furthermore, they wish to restrict usage of the word and fine ($2000) those who use the word differently.
The immediate response is to ask why.
The answer seems to be that Charter Schools made it possible for people who had no formal teaching qualifications to teach in (weekday, children's) schools (although they would have surely had some other, subject-matter, competence/expertise). Consequently, it was more difficult for students (and their parents) to know who at that school was a formally trained teacher and who was not.
And some saw this as a problem. They thought it important to know the difference. Implicitly (and sometimes explicitly), they thought there was an educational quality difference or a professional status difference.
Consequently, one proposed solution (given in the proposed bill) to this supposed problem is to restrict the word "teacher," such that it only refers to those who have some specified formal tertiary qualification in education (Bachelor of Education, Graduate Diploma of Teaching, or equivalent). Unless you have this tertiary qualification in education, you are not a teacher and cannot call yourself one.
According to this NZ Herald article*** from a couple of days ago, it seems that the proposed bill is not "hard and fast", and lots of discussion is currently happening regarding the details.
Stepping back for a moment, it seems to me that there are two broad ways in which a person may get into teaching (with some overlap).
The first way is that the person learns some particular subject for a length of time such that they become suitably proficient in it. At this point they may start imparting their subject knowledge/skills to others -- that is, teaching them. Since they haven't specifically learnt how to teach, they might not be all that good at getting the subject matter across to their students. Their ability to teach will depend largely on the luck of their personality, as well as their ability to learn on the job. But because they haven't explicitly trained as a teacher, they might never stumble across certain teaching details that a more systematic training would have taught them.
The second way is that the person learns primarily about education and how to teach. They might not have spent as much time learning specific knowledge/skills (aside from education), but at least they have teaching skills and knowledge, which allows them to (better) get their message across to their students. The correctness of the content of what they teach will then depend on the adequacy of their earlier life experiences, and their ability to learn on the job. Hopefully they will have picked up enough knowledge/skills to get the facts right in the subject they are teaching, but, all things being equal, they won't know as much as someone who specifically trained in the subject.
In other words, someone who trained mostly in the subject may not be able to get their message across as well, even if they know their stuff. Someone who trained mostly in teaching may get the subject matter wrong more often, even if they are able to get it across.
It seems then, that those who support the proposed bill are prioritising the second way to get into teaching over the first way. Why is this? Are they significantly better at it? And is there empirical evidence for this?
If there is no evidence for this, then is this a case of prejudice?
And if there is evidence for this, then why allow schools to hire these less competent teaching staff in the first place?
Regardless of this, why go to the extreme of redefining the word "teacher"? Why not simply call those who have the approved qualifications "qualified teachers"?
Having said all this, the above discussion ignores the many different types of teaching, a lot of which does not involve teaching weekdays to 5 to 18-year-old children.
For many of these other teaching areas, the required tertiary qualifications listed in the bill may be mostly irrelevant to their needs, with topics and issues covered that don't apply in these other teaching environments. For example, those who teach adults or small groups don't need to learn the details of classroom management of children.
Instead, these teaching areas often have their own subject-specific teaching qualifications, that are typically adequate to the teaching needs in those subjects. There are many Certificate or Diploma-level teaching qualifications out there, specific to the subject to be taught.
Are those who teach in these other areas, and with these other teaching qualifications, going to be penalised because of the potential for confusion in that one particular teaching environment?
Whatever the case about my musings above, if this bill passes, it seems that Mama (who has been classroom teaching for over 20 years and has published textbooks as well as research articles on teaching) will no longer be able to call herself a teacher. I hope this won't result in her having a mid-life identity crisis.
And as for us homeschoolers, I suppose we will just get on with teaching our children, whatever we happen to get called.
***To jump to the top of the class, spot the there/their mistake in the NZ Herald article!
UPDATE (20/4/2018): When I am looking at issues I try to be as charitable as I can with people's ideas -- presenting and fairly examining the best possible versions of people's stated ideas. But another approach is to ignore their stated reasons and examine their underlying motivations.
Discussing this idea yesterday with Yeye (who is a "real" teacher, with a Diploma of Teaching, and whose university major was politics), we raised the idea that these stated reasons, above, are beside the point.
Maybe the real reason for this proposed bill is control. Firstly, the bill is being proposed by the political party New Zealand First. And secondly, the Diploma of Teaching arguably trains teachers to conformity, by breaking them down through extreme stress and rebuilding them in the politically desirable form. Upping the professional status of those who get trained in this way, and denying the name to teachers who have not trained in this way, increases the control of those in authority. 1984-style thought control by language control.
I guess certain homeschoolers will sympathise with this conspiracy theory understanding of schooling!
UPDATE (8/5/2018): According to this NZ Herald article, the proposed bill has been withdrawn.
Thursday, 19 April 2018
Book review: The Neverending Story
I finished reading aloud The Neverending Story (Michael Ende) to the girls last night.
It is a complicated, multi-layered, thought-provoking book, which also manages the double-task of being an un-put-down-ably exciting story. I completely and utterly recommend it to everyone. It definitely deserves to be on the list of the world's great novels.
If you have watched the movie, but not read the book, then don't be mislead -- the movie is less than half the book, and completely misses the heart and soul of the book.
Giving this sort of open-ended praise for the book, as above, is easy. What is more challenging is trying to review the specifics of the book. Saying too much will definitely spoil it for those who haven't read it. Each idea and aspect of the book builds on previous twists, which really shouldn't be revealed until you have read it.
So, what can I say?
The story is centrally about a boy, Bastian Balthazar Bux, who has an unhappy life. His mother died, and his father is grieving and distant. He is fat and awkward, and gets teased by his peers. While getting chased by bullies he stumbles into a bookshop where, after talking with the owner for a while, he steals an interesting-looking book. He is late for school and wags class, hiding in the school attic to read the book he stole.
The book Bastian reads is The Neverending Story, an adventure story about a strong, heroic boy, around his own age, who is trying to save his world from destruction. And thus we, as readers, start to read a book within a book.
And I had better stop there with the retelling. Any more than that will spoil the amazing twists and turns that happen next.
Except to say that Michael Ende's father was one of Germany's first Surrealist painters. And that is worth mentioning. I encourage you to read up on Andre Breton, the founder of Surrealism, and Dada, one of the big influences on Surrealism. Understanding the reasoning behind these artistic movements will give even more depth to this book.
Alongside reading this book to Mulan and Miya, I have been wanting to recognise that if Mulan were going to school she would have started intermediate school this year. Amongst other things, I have been trying to think of ways for Mulan to start writing responses to set questions, rather than simply free writing as she typically does.
So, for this book, my first set writing task for Mulan was to get her to write a creative "what happens next" piece. This was at a point in the book, about halfway, where it was particularly open-ended (I won't say where or what, as it would spoil things if you haven't read it). Mulan wrote a few pages, very fluently continuing the story as she saw it (Mulan's continuation was very different from the actual story).
This morning, I explained to Mulan that I would now like her to write more of an essay-style piece, reviewing the book and perhaps comparing her story with the actual book. Mulan looked a bit worried/shocked at the thought of doing this, so she might need some encouragement/nagging. But I know she has lots of opinions on this, as she was often talking about it as we were reading together. It will just be a matter of getting her to order her ideas in her head and get them onto paper. We'll see what happens.
It is a complicated, multi-layered, thought-provoking book, which also manages the double-task of being an un-put-down-ably exciting story. I completely and utterly recommend it to everyone. It definitely deserves to be on the list of the world's great novels.
If you have watched the movie, but not read the book, then don't be mislead -- the movie is less than half the book, and completely misses the heart and soul of the book.
Giving this sort of open-ended praise for the book, as above, is easy. What is more challenging is trying to review the specifics of the book. Saying too much will definitely spoil it for those who haven't read it. Each idea and aspect of the book builds on previous twists, which really shouldn't be revealed until you have read it.
So, what can I say?
The story is centrally about a boy, Bastian Balthazar Bux, who has an unhappy life. His mother died, and his father is grieving and distant. He is fat and awkward, and gets teased by his peers. While getting chased by bullies he stumbles into a bookshop where, after talking with the owner for a while, he steals an interesting-looking book. He is late for school and wags class, hiding in the school attic to read the book he stole.
The book Bastian reads is The Neverending Story, an adventure story about a strong, heroic boy, around his own age, who is trying to save his world from destruction. And thus we, as readers, start to read a book within a book.
And I had better stop there with the retelling. Any more than that will spoil the amazing twists and turns that happen next.
Except to say that Michael Ende's father was one of Germany's first Surrealist painters. And that is worth mentioning. I encourage you to read up on Andre Breton, the founder of Surrealism, and Dada, one of the big influences on Surrealism. Understanding the reasoning behind these artistic movements will give even more depth to this book.
Alongside reading this book to Mulan and Miya, I have been wanting to recognise that if Mulan were going to school she would have started intermediate school this year. Amongst other things, I have been trying to think of ways for Mulan to start writing responses to set questions, rather than simply free writing as she typically does.
So, for this book, my first set writing task for Mulan was to get her to write a creative "what happens next" piece. This was at a point in the book, about halfway, where it was particularly open-ended (I won't say where or what, as it would spoil things if you haven't read it). Mulan wrote a few pages, very fluently continuing the story as she saw it (Mulan's continuation was very different from the actual story).
This morning, I explained to Mulan that I would now like her to write more of an essay-style piece, reviewing the book and perhaps comparing her story with the actual book. Mulan looked a bit worried/shocked at the thought of doing this, so she might need some encouragement/nagging. But I know she has lots of opinions on this, as she was often talking about it as we were reading together. It will just be a matter of getting her to order her ideas in her head and get them onto paper. We'll see what happens.
Monday, 16 April 2018
Swimming
Mulan and Miya have been learning swimming for 30 minutes a week, for the past three years at Swim Lovers' Swim School.
It has been working well for them -- they are both swimming smoothly and they love their time in the water.
But other than that, most weeks we don't get around to slipping on the togs and going for a swim. Crazy really, with beaches and pools so close to us.
So, we decided to change that.
Yesterday, we biked to the Takapuna Pool and Leisure Centre, our local public pool. It's free for kids 16 and under, and I pay just $1 per time as a spectator.
The girls were in the pool for about an hour. For the first 20 or 30 minutes they did laps, then they played the rest of the time.
Mulan swam 20 lengths (667 metres), while Miya swam 12 lengths (400 metres). They both did a mix of all four strokes (freestyle, backstroke, breaststroke, butterfly), while Mulan also did some underwater swimming.
It worked out really well, and we'll try to get there again at least once or twice a week.
It has been working well for them -- they are both swimming smoothly and they love their time in the water.
But other than that, most weeks we don't get around to slipping on the togs and going for a swim. Crazy really, with beaches and pools so close to us.
So, we decided to change that.
Yesterday, we biked to the Takapuna Pool and Leisure Centre, our local public pool. It's free for kids 16 and under, and I pay just $1 per time as a spectator.
The girls were in the pool for about an hour. For the first 20 or 30 minutes they did laps, then they played the rest of the time.
Mulan swam 20 lengths (667 metres), while Miya swam 12 lengths (400 metres). They both did a mix of all four strokes (freestyle, backstroke, breaststroke, butterfly), while Mulan also did some underwater swimming.
It worked out really well, and we'll try to get there again at least once or twice a week.
Saturday, 7 April 2018
Congratulations Mulan
Today, Mulan finished her US 7th Grade maths at Khan Academy.
She is now starting 8th Grade.
(Mulan finished 6th Grade 10 months ago.)
She is now starting 8th Grade.
(Mulan finished 6th Grade 10 months ago.)
Friday, 6 April 2018
Book review: Consider Phlebas
The best thing about Iain M. Banks' book Consider Phlebas is the creative and vivid descriptions of people being killed and maimed.
Or should that be the worst thing?
At any rate, Consider Phlebas is about 500 pages of set scene after set scene of characters being creatively violent with each other. It wasn't a pleasant read.
I'd requested the book from my local library, based on a good review at a website I like, and I finished reading it yesterday. I can't even remember which website the review was at, but if I remember rightly, the review praised the supposedly realistic portrayal of complex social and political interactions.
Personally, I don't think it was that well done.
Basically, the book is a science fiction story, set in a futuristic galaxy with faster-than-light travel and aliens. There is a war between two opposing civilisations. The "Culture" can be read as a liberal Western society with advanced artificial intelligence and more than enough wealth for all. But, weirdly, they cannot satisfy their desire to be needed except by evangelising and spreading their culture to outsiders (have they never heard of raising children -- that would more than satisfy their need to be needed!). Their opponents are the Idirans -- hierarchical, religious fundamentalists who fight to subjugate all inferior species.
And that was it, as far as I could see. Nothing there was complex, or subtle, or insightful. As far as I could see it was just a quick war scenario setup that allowed Banks to write imaginative violence. If you like reading violence, then knock yourself out with 500 pages of fun. If not, then there is not much else of value in Consider Phlebas.
Or should that be the worst thing?
At any rate, Consider Phlebas is about 500 pages of set scene after set scene of characters being creatively violent with each other. It wasn't a pleasant read.
I'd requested the book from my local library, based on a good review at a website I like, and I finished reading it yesterday. I can't even remember which website the review was at, but if I remember rightly, the review praised the supposedly realistic portrayal of complex social and political interactions.
Personally, I don't think it was that well done.
Basically, the book is a science fiction story, set in a futuristic galaxy with faster-than-light travel and aliens. There is a war between two opposing civilisations. The "Culture" can be read as a liberal Western society with advanced artificial intelligence and more than enough wealth for all. But, weirdly, they cannot satisfy their desire to be needed except by evangelising and spreading their culture to outsiders (have they never heard of raising children -- that would more than satisfy their need to be needed!). Their opponents are the Idirans -- hierarchical, religious fundamentalists who fight to subjugate all inferior species.
And that was it, as far as I could see. Nothing there was complex, or subtle, or insightful. As far as I could see it was just a quick war scenario setup that allowed Banks to write imaginative violence. If you like reading violence, then knock yourself out with 500 pages of fun. If not, then there is not much else of value in Consider Phlebas.
Sunday, 1 April 2018
Book review: David Walliams books
The girls and I have discovered David Walliams.
Or, to be more accurate, we have discovered his books for kids. I had known of him for a while as a sometimes-funny (and sometimes not-funny) British TV comedian.
Hearing more and more about how good Walliams' books are, I requested The Boy in the Dress from the local library (choosing it for no other reason than Wikipedia said it was his first book, published in 2008). We picked it up last week, and I quickly flicked through it to make sure it was okay. Mulan got hold of it, and on the same day, within an hour or two, had finished it. It was passed on to Miya, who likewise finished it a few days later. It was then passed back to me, and I finally got to read it last night.
In the meantime, I requested Walliams' other 11 books from the library. I picked four of them up on Thursday -- Mulan has read them all and Miya has read two. The other seven books are slowly dribbling in. I'll pick up another four on Tuesday when the library reopens after Easter.
So, what do we think of Walliams' books?
Obviously, they are light and quick and fun to read. They are not too challenging, and we can zoom through them pretty fast. The main character in The Boy in the Dress is 12 (which is often an indicator of the suggested age of the reader), but the writing style is so simple that Miya had no problem reading it. There are also plenty of illustrations dotting the pages throughout the books, which make them far more appealing for Miya to read.
Style-wise, lots of reviewers immediately make the comparison with Roald Dahl, and that is very obvious to see. The slightly edgy humour is definitely there -- sometimes black, sometimes gross, but definitely appealing to kids. The illustrator of Walliams' first two books is Quentin Blake, who also illustrated Dahl's books, strengthening the Dahl-feel even more. And, much like most of Dahl's stories, the main character (at least in The Boy in the Dress) had a somewhat sad life, but was lifted out of sadness in an extraordinary way.
What really puts Walliams' The Boy in the Dress on my must-read book list is that it is a sweet morality tale that is uplifting, but not overly moralising. Walliams clearly wanted to use his first children's book as a teaching opportunity, to help change perceptions, reduce prejudice, and lessen bullying and intolerance. In case it isn't obvious by the book's title, to help ease up a bit with society's sometimes overly strict gender roles and gender stereotyping. To say that it is okay for a guy to slip on a dress on occasion, when he feels like it, and to like sparkly clothes. And absolutely good on Walliams; I agree 100% with the book's morality. But Walliams didn't overdo it with the moralising -- there is no sickening sweetness or pedestal-preaching. He has managed to get that delicate writing balance that turns a story idea into a great book.
Yeah, the story is simplistic. Yeah, the solution to the Big Problem near the end is a little too convenient and unbelievable. Yeah, those who want to resist the idea of easing up on gender roles might try to psychoanalyse the Boy's relationship with his mother. But I think all that doesn't matter.
My impression from one book is that Walliams' books would be most ideal for tweens who might not otherwise be big readers. The writing is possibly a little on the easy side for Mulan, though it is nice for her to read some less challenging books sometimes. And the themes might sometimes be a little too mature for Miya (not the dress-wearing, but some of the other almost-teen stuff).
Or, to be more accurate, we have discovered his books for kids. I had known of him for a while as a sometimes-funny (and sometimes not-funny) British TV comedian.
Hearing more and more about how good Walliams' books are, I requested The Boy in the Dress from the local library (choosing it for no other reason than Wikipedia said it was his first book, published in 2008). We picked it up last week, and I quickly flicked through it to make sure it was okay. Mulan got hold of it, and on the same day, within an hour or two, had finished it. It was passed on to Miya, who likewise finished it a few days later. It was then passed back to me, and I finally got to read it last night.
In the meantime, I requested Walliams' other 11 books from the library. I picked four of them up on Thursday -- Mulan has read them all and Miya has read two. The other seven books are slowly dribbling in. I'll pick up another four on Tuesday when the library reopens after Easter.
So, what do we think of Walliams' books?
Obviously, they are light and quick and fun to read. They are not too challenging, and we can zoom through them pretty fast. The main character in The Boy in the Dress is 12 (which is often an indicator of the suggested age of the reader), but the writing style is so simple that Miya had no problem reading it. There are also plenty of illustrations dotting the pages throughout the books, which make them far more appealing for Miya to read.
Style-wise, lots of reviewers immediately make the comparison with Roald Dahl, and that is very obvious to see. The slightly edgy humour is definitely there -- sometimes black, sometimes gross, but definitely appealing to kids. The illustrator of Walliams' first two books is Quentin Blake, who also illustrated Dahl's books, strengthening the Dahl-feel even more. And, much like most of Dahl's stories, the main character (at least in The Boy in the Dress) had a somewhat sad life, but was lifted out of sadness in an extraordinary way.
What really puts Walliams' The Boy in the Dress on my must-read book list is that it is a sweet morality tale that is uplifting, but not overly moralising. Walliams clearly wanted to use his first children's book as a teaching opportunity, to help change perceptions, reduce prejudice, and lessen bullying and intolerance. In case it isn't obvious by the book's title, to help ease up a bit with society's sometimes overly strict gender roles and gender stereotyping. To say that it is okay for a guy to slip on a dress on occasion, when he feels like it, and to like sparkly clothes. And absolutely good on Walliams; I agree 100% with the book's morality. But Walliams didn't overdo it with the moralising -- there is no sickening sweetness or pedestal-preaching. He has managed to get that delicate writing balance that turns a story idea into a great book.
Yeah, the story is simplistic. Yeah, the solution to the Big Problem near the end is a little too convenient and unbelievable. Yeah, those who want to resist the idea of easing up on gender roles might try to psychoanalyse the Boy's relationship with his mother. But I think all that doesn't matter.
My impression from one book is that Walliams' books would be most ideal for tweens who might not otherwise be big readers. The writing is possibly a little on the easy side for Mulan, though it is nice for her to read some less challenging books sometimes. And the themes might sometimes be a little too mature for Miya (not the dress-wearing, but some of the other almost-teen stuff).
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