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Mentoring Forward: Sustaining Practice and Growing Creativity

As teacher librarians, our professional practice is shaped not only by the resources we curate or the programs we design, but by the relationships that sustain and challenge us. Mentoring is one of the most powerful of these relationships, influencing professional identity, confidence, and the ongoing development of practice.

I am deeply grateful to the Australian School Library Association for the opportunity to participate in their mentorship program this year. It is a privilege that feels both significant and personal. When I began my journey as a teacher librarian, I was fortunate to learn from two exceptional mentors, Bronwyn and Maree. Both were highly experienced, yet their approaches to teaching and librarianship differed greatly. Observing how they designed, created, implemented, and assessed information literacy across the curriculum was invaluable. Equally impactful was witnessing how they managed resources and engaged meaningfully with colleagues. These early experiences shaped my understanding of effective practice and gave me the confidence to develop my own professional voice.

Mentoring is often confused with coaching, yet it occupies a very different space. Coaching is typically task focused and directed towards achieving specific outcomes. Mentoring, in contrast, sits closer to peer learning, where knowledge is shared through dialogue, reflection, and collaboration. At its best, mentoring also includes an element of encouragement that can be described as a form of professional cheerleading, where the mentor actively affirms and supports the growth of the mentee (Louis and Cramer, 2016). This positioning is particularly important in teacher librarianship, where professional isolation can be a reality and collegial affirmation plays a critical role in sustaining confidence and innovation.

Mentoring has long been established as a social partnership grounded in interpersonal exchange. It is shaped by the perceptions that both mentor and mentee hold of one another, and by the way these perceptions influence their interactions over time (Nunan et al., 2023). Within this context, relationships are understood as the ongoing verbal and non verbal behaviours between individuals, evolving through continuous interaction rather than singular moments of support (Nunan et al., 2023). This understanding reinforces that mentoring is not a static or transactional process. It is relational, dynamic, and deeply human.

Central to this relationship is trust. Trust underpins honest communication and allows both mentor and mentee to engage meaningfully in professional learning. Alongside trust, effective mentors demonstrate strong communication skills and are encouraging, insightful, empathetic, organised, and persistent in supporting growth (Bourgault, 2024). These qualities are essential in fostering a mentoring environment where both individuals feel valued and empowered.

While mentoring supports the development of the mentee, it is increasingly evident that the mentor also experiences significant professional growth. Mentoring encourages reflection, challenges established practices, and creates opportunities to reconsider approaches to teaching and learning. It is through this reciprocal exchange that mentoring becomes a powerful mechanism for sustaining professional vitality.

This reciprocity is strongly supported by research on creativity. Wang and Shibayama (2022) identify mentorship as a mechanism through which individuals acquire and develop creativity at a personal level. In a knowledge society, this is essential. Professionals must move beyond applying existing knowledge to generating new ideas and developing innovative solutions. Mentorship provides a space where this creative development can occur through the sharing of skills, knowledge, and ways of thinking (Wang and Shibayama, 2022).

Importantly, the development of creativity through mentoring is not immediate. The influence of mentor creativity often becomes evident over time, suggesting that mentoring has an enduring impact that extends well beyond the initial relationship (Wang and Shibayama, 2022). This reinforces the significance of mentoring as a long term investment in professional growth.

The effectiveness of this process is shaped by the conditions within the mentoring relationship. Creativity is strengthened when both mentor and mentee engage with autonomy and exploration. When mentees are supported to think independently, explore new ideas, and take intellectual risks, they are more likely to develop creative thinking capabilities (Wang and Shibayama, 2022). At the same time, mentors benefit from this process, as exposure to fresh perspectives and new ideas challenges habitual thinking and encourages innovation.

In practice, this aligns closely with my experience as a mentor. Mentees often bring a renewed sense of enthusiasm and curiosity. They ask questions that prompt reflection and introduce ideas that may not have been previously considered. In doing so, they contribute to a shared space of creativity where both mentor and mentee grow. Mentorship becomes not only a process of guiding others, but also a means of re engaging with one’s own professional practice.

For teacher librarians, this is particularly significant. Our roles require us to navigate evolving information landscapes, support diverse learners, and embed information literacy across the curriculum. Mentoring provides a framework for sustaining this complexity, allowing for collaborative reflection and continuous improvement.

Reflecting on my own journey, it is clear that the mentors who supported me provided more than guidance. They modelled professional generosity, creative thinking, and the importance of relationships in effective practice. Having the opportunity to now offer that same support to another professional is both meaningful and necessary.

Mentoring is, ultimately, an act of giving back. It is also an act of sustaining the profession. Through mentoring, we foster creativity, build relationships, and ensure that our practice continues to evolve. In giving forward, we not only support the development of others, but also renew our own capacity to think, adapt, and lead within an ever changing educational landscape.

References

Bourgault, A. M. (2024). Mentoring: A strategy to foster a sense of belonging. Critical Care Nurse, 44(2), 8 to 9. https://doi.org/10.4037/ccn2024701

Louis, S., and Cramer, K. (2016). Peer mentoring as professional development. LOEX Conference Proceedings. https://commons.emich.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1031 and context=loexconf2016

Nunan, A., Ebrahim, S., and Stander, M. W. (2023). Mentoring as a social partnership: Interpersonal processes and relational dynamics.

Wang, J., and Shibayama, S. (2022). Mentorship and creativity: Effects of mentor creativity and mentoring style. Research Policy, 51(2), Article 104451. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.respol.2021.104451

The Work Behind the Welcome: Readers Cup, Reading Communities and the Unseen Labour of School Libraries

Last week, my school was privileged to host the Brisbane South Readers Cup competition, welcoming more than 100 students and 23 teams from schools across the region. The evening was a celebration of reading, literature and intellectual curiosity, bringing together young people united by a shared love of books.

Readers Cup is far more than a quiz competition. At its heart, it is about creating a community of readers. In an age where young people are often characterised by what they are not doing, events such as Readers Cup remind us of what they are doing. They are reading deeply, discussing complex ideas, debating interpretations and finding joy in stories. They are building friendships around books and discovering that reading is not a solitary activity but a shared experience that connects people across schools, backgrounds and communities.

As I walked through the venue on the night, there was an unmistakable energy in the room. Students who had spent months reading and preparing came together to test their knowledge of this year’s texts. The competitive element was certainly present, but what stood out most was the enthusiasm. There is something powerful about seeing so many teenagers willingly spending an evening discussing literature when they could be almost anywhere else.

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The event was made even more special through the generosity of Nick Croydon, CEO of QBD Books, who volunteered his time as Quiz Master and donated gift vouchers for competitors. His involvement reinforced an important message: reading matters, and supporting young readers matters. In a world where time is perhaps our most precious resource, the gift of time is often the most generous contribution of all.

Yet behind every successful school library event lies a story that is rarely told.

While students see the competition, the prizes and the excitement of the evening, they do not always see the countless hours of preparation that make these opportunities possible. Nor does the wider public often recognise the significant volunteer labour that underpins many literacy initiatives within schools.

Readers Cup did not run because it appeared on a calendar. It ran because teachers, school officers and volunteers gave generously of their time beyond their normal duties. Teachers stayed after hours to judge, supervise students, keep time and assist with logistics. Library staff coordinated registrations, communication and event planning. Support staff ensured spaces were prepared and functioning. Volunteers stepped into countless roles that often go unnoticed, from scoring and administration to simple acts of hospitality and encouragement. We should also acknowledge the extraordinary work of the Children’s Book Council of Australia and its volunteers, who quietly dedicate countless hours to fostering a culture of reading through programs such as Readers Cup. Their contribution, like that of many school library staff, is often invisible to the broader public. Yet these initiatives continue because people believe deeply in the power of stories and are willing to give their own time to ensure young people have opportunities to engage with them.

This story is not unique to Readers Cup.

Across Australia, school libraries quietly deliver a remarkable array of programs that enrich the educational lives of students. Book clubs, literature festivals, writing workshops, visiting authors, reading challenges, Readers Cup teams, lunchtime activities and literacy events often exist because school library professionals believe deeply in their value. Much of this work occurs outside timetabled lessons and beyond recognised workload allocations. It is driven not by obligation but by commitment to students and a belief in the transformative power of reading.

The reality is that much of the work of school libraries remains largely invisible. When literacy outcomes improve, when students discover a love of reading, when reluctant readers find the right book, or when communities gather around literature, the effort behind those successes is not always visible. The planning meetings, the emails, the risk assessments, the book selection, the venue preparation, the volunteer coordination and the countless hours of organisation rarely make headlines.

Perhaps that is because school libraries have always been places of quiet service. They are spaces where support happens in the background, where opportunities are created without fanfare and where success is measured in the achievements of others.

However, events such as Readers Cup remind us that this work deserves recognition.

The evening was a triumph not simply because a winning team emerged, but because it demonstrated what can happen when a community invests in young readers. It showed the collective impact of educators, library professionals, support staff, volunteers, community partners and organisations such as the CBCA working together towards a common purpose.

As school libraries continue to advocate for literacy, information literacy and lifelong learning, it is important that we also acknowledge the unseen labour that makes these opportunities possible. Behind every successful event stands a network of people who choose to give more of themselves than is required.

To every teacher who stayed late, every volunteer who helped, every CBCA member who has contributed to Readers Cup over the years, every staff member who worked behind the scenes, and to Nick Croydon and QBD Books for their generosity and support, thank you.

Readers Cup may celebrate books, but it is also a celebration of people. The readers who inspire us, the educators who support them, and the communities that quietly make these experiences possible.

Sometimes the most important stories are not found in the books on the table, but in the people who make it possible for those books to change lives.

The Quiet Work of Belonging

I went to my old high school’s 40-year celebration two days ago. It was one of those evenings steeped in memory. Faces reappeared from another version of my life and conversations slipped easily back into old rhythms. I found myself reconnecting with past teachers, friends and principals, each interaction quietly reconstructing the person who I had once been.

But the moment that stayed with me, the one that carried the most weight, was seeing Mrs P, the Library Technician. I had not seen her since my last day of high school, more than twenty-five years ago. And yet, I recognised her instantly.

There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. It was as if no time had passed at all.

I walked up to her, a little tentatively, and asked if she had been the library technician back in those days. She smiled, said yes, and then paused, really looking at me. There was a flicker of recognition, the slow realisation that this was not just a past student, but someone connected to those shared years in the library.

In that moment, I felt again what I had felt all those years ago. Seen. Remembered. Held, in some quiet way, in the memory of a place that had once held me so carefully. Mrs P, along with Mrs H and our teacher librarian, Mr J, absolutely saved me in high school.

I was an awkward teenager, navigating the usual turbulence of adolescence, but also something more complex. I was trying to make sense of my identity as a migrant. I did not feel like I belonged in Brisbane. I felt out of place, uncertain of the invisible rules that seemed to come so naturally to everyone else. It was a quiet kind of dislocation, one that I carried with me each day through classrooms, corridors and playgrounds.

Except when I was in the library.

The library became my constant. I went there every day, sometimes four times a day. Before school, during breaks, at lunchtime, and after school. On sports days and swimming carnivals, when the noise and exposure felt overwhelming, I would find my way there again. It was not just a place I visited. It was a place I returned to, over and over, because I knew what waited for me.

There was space. There was calm. There was permission to exist without explanation.

What made that space transformative, however, was not simply the books or the quiet. It was the people who held it.

Mrs P. Mrs H. Mr J.

They welcomed me without making it visible. There was no intervention, no spotlight, no need to name what I was struggling to articulate myself. Instead, there were small, consistent acts of care. A smile. A brief conversation. An acceptance of my presence, no matter how often I appeared. They never made me feel like I was there too much. If anything, they made it clear that I was exactly where I was meant to be.

It was through these quiet acts that something began to shift.

I started to feel that I belonged.

Not because I had changed dramatically or suddenly fit the mould of what I thought I should be, but because the library allowed me to exist outside of that mould altogether. It was a space where difference did not need to be negotiated or justified. It was simply accepted.

On my last day of Year 12, Mr J and Mrs P handed me a pile of books. They told me, with a kind of gentle humour, that I was the only student who had borrowed and reborrowed those titles over the past five years. They thought I should take them. That they may as well belong to me.

At the time, I accepted them with gratitude. In hindsight, I understand that what they were giving me was something much larger than a stack of well worn pages. It was an acknowledgement of time, of presence, of connection. It was a way of saying that I had been seen.

Now, I find myself in their position.

As a teacher librarian, I think often about what it means to create a space like that. It is easy to speak about libraries in terms of collections, resources and programming. These are important, necessary components of our work. But they are not, in themselves, what makes a library matter.

What matters is the atmosphere we cultivate. The decisions we make, often unconsciously, about who feels welcome and who does not. The way we respond to the student who lingers a little too long, who comes back again and again, who seems to need the space in a way that goes beyond borrowing a book.

There are always students like I was.

They may not announce themselves. They may not ask for help in ways that are easily recognised. But they are there, at the edges, watching and waiting to see if a space will hold them.

The library can be that space.

Not through grand initiatives, but through consistency. Through noticing. Through the quiet, deliberate choice to welcome a student, not once, but every time they walk through the door.

Increasingly, I also see this through the experience of my own children. I watch them move through their school libraries with a sense of ease that feels both reassuring and deeply familiar. They find corners to read, people to talk to, spaces where they can simply be. There is a confidence in the way they inhabit those spaces that tells me they feel they belong.

It is a subtle thing, belonging. It is rarely declared outright. Instead, it accumulates in moments, in gestures, in the quiet understanding that a place will receive you without question.

Libraries hold the capacity to offer this in a way that few other spaces in a school can.

They are places where students can arrive without needing to explain themselves. Places where identity can be explored, shaped or simply held. Places where someone might come four times a day and never be made to feel like they are too much.

At their best, libraries are not defined by what they contain, but by what they allow.

They allow stillness. They allow curiosity. They allow refuge.

And, for some of us, they allow the slow and steady realisation that we belong.

Identity, perception and the spaces in between

Publishing my recent article in ACCESS: The Journal of the Australian School Library Association prompted a level of reflection that extended beyond professional practice. While the article itself explores how perception shapes the identity and positioning of teacher librarians within schools, the process of writing it brought into sharper focus how deeply questions of identity are also personal.

Social identity theory provided a useful framework within the article, particularly in understanding how individuals construct a sense of self through group membership, shared norms and the value ascribed to those groups by others. However, as I engaged more deeply with the theory, it became increasingly difficult to separate the professional from the personal.

As a migrant, identity has never been entirely fixed or internally defined. It has always been shaped in relation to context, to perception, and to an ongoing negotiation of belonging. There is a heightened awareness of how one is read by others, and how those readings can influence not only external opportunities but also internal confidence and voice. In this sense, the central premise of social identity theory is not abstract. It is lived.

This experience resonated strongly with the arguments explored in my article.

The role of the teacher librarian similarly exists within a space shaped by perception rather than fully understood practice. Despite the complexity of the work, including explicit teaching of information literacy, inquiry skills and critical evaluation, the role is often reduced to narrow or outdated interpretations. As social identity theory suggests, this devaluation is not confined to how the role is viewed externally. It has the potential to influence how the role is inhabited, enacted and, at times, limited.

What became evident through both the research and my own reflection is the parallel between these experiences. In both contexts, identity exists in the tension between self definition and external perception. In both cases, there is a continual negotiation between adapting to expectations and asserting a more accurate representation of who we are and what we contribute. Understanding this has shifted the way I think about professional identity. The question is no longer simply how teacher librarians are perceived, but how we actively position ourselves within that perception. In my ACCESS article, this is explored through the idea of anchoring identity in the “teacher” dimension of the role, not as a rejection of librarianship, but as a deliberate affirmation of pedagogical expertise and educational contribution.

Seen through a social identity lens, this becomes more than professional preference. It is a form of identity construction that resists marginalisation and repositions the role within core learning conversations. My own experience as a migrant has reinforced that identity is rarely passively received. It is shaped, negotiated and, at times, deliberately claimed. The same can be said for teacher librarianship. The reflections that sit alongside my published work suggest that the challenge is not only to articulate the value of the role, but to inhabit it with clarity and confidence. In doing so, the distance between perception and reality begins, slowly, to close.

Kicking Goals with Stories

On Wednesday 27 May, Luna Roo the Kangaroo Baller by Adam Jackson and Adrian Lough, illustrated by Jake A. Minton, was read simultaneously in libraries, schools, early learning settings and homes across the country, uniting communities in a shared reading experience. National Simultaneous Storytime once again brought the joy of shared reading to life across Australia, delighting young readers nationwide. As one of the most anticipated literacy events on the calendar, NSS continues to highlight the powerful role that stories play in fostering connection, imagination and a lifelong love of reading.

Here at the library, we were excited to support this year’s celebration as our primary students came together to share in the reading of Luna Roo the Kangaroo Baller. Students were active participants throughout, enthusiastically calling out “You can do it!” each time Luna Roo’s name was mentioned and cheering a joyful “Woohoo!” during key match moments. This collective energy created a vibrant and engaging reading experience that truly captured the spirit of National Simultaneous Storytime.

Following the story, our Year 5 and 6 students took part in a creative and engaging activity, designing their own football jerseys inspired by Luna Roo’s passion for the game. This hands on experience provided a fun and meaningful way for students to connect with the text, express their creativity and celebrate the excitement and teamwork at the heart of the story. The library also supported NSS with themed bookmarks and a wonderful display of soccer reads, offering plenty of options for our budding fans to continue their reading beyond the event.

Events such as NSS not only promote literacy but also affirm the importance of storytelling as a communal act, one that brings people together and nurtures empathy, identity and belonging. We hope that our students thoroughly enjoyed meeting Luna Roo and that the accompanying activities enhanced their experience of this heartwarming and energetic story. National Simultaneous Storytime remains a powerful reminder that when we read together, we grow together.

From Words to Understanding: Five Years of Vocabulary, Inquiry and Impact

Last week I had the privilege of presenting at the National Education Summit here in Brisbane, sharing a body of work that has evolved over the past five years, three schools and two states. What began in 2021 as a response to disrupted learning during Covid lockdowns has since developed into a sustained, evidence informed approach to vocabulary instruction, grounded in collaboration, inquiry and the role of the teacher librarian.

In the early stages of this work, my fellow teacher librarians and I were grappling with a shared challenge. Students were returning to classrooms with uneven access to the curriculum, and many lacked the language needed to engage meaningfully with content. We began asking a simple but powerful question. How do we support students to connect with learning at their point of access? The answer, we found, lay in vocabulary.

Vocabulary is more than word knowledge. It is the foundation for deeper thinking, richer comprehension and academic success across all learning areas. Drawing on Vygotsky’s understanding of learning as a social process, this work has always prioritised scaffolded, collaborative learning experiences where language is explicitly taught, modelled and applied. Halliday’s theory of language as a social semiotic further reinforced the importance of teaching students how language works within different disciplines, enabling them to access and produce increasingly complex texts.

Central to my approach is the belief that vocabulary must be taught explicitly before students are asked to engage in close reading or complex content. This thinking is informed by the cognitive reading model of Stahl & McKenna, as well as Scarborough’s Reading Rope, both of which highlight the interdependence of language comprehension and word knowledge in skilled reading. When students do not understand key terms, comprehension falters. When they do, learning accelerates.

In practice, this begins with carefully curated text sets. By introducing students to genre based texts at appropriate Lexile levels, they encounter Tier 2 and Tier 3 vocabulary in context. This is particularly powerful in subjects such as science, health and the humanities, where disciplinary language can be abstract and highly specific. Seeing vocabulary embedded within authentic texts allows students to connect meaning to purpose, rather than encountering words in isolation.

From here, explicit strategies such as the semantic mapping and the Frayer Model are used to connect schemas and deepen understanding. This is especially effective for terms that students commonly misunderstand or struggle to define, which is often the case in scientific contexts. By unpacking definitions, characteristics, examples and non examples, students build a more nuanced and transferable understanding of key concepts.

Throughout this process, resource based learning has been essential. The library is not simply a place where resources are housed, but a dynamic space where literacy and learning are designed in partnership with teachers. As a teacher librarian, I have worked closely with colleagues to co plan units that embed vocabulary instruction within inquiry based learning. Together, we create literacy rich environments where students engage with ideas, language and content in meaningful ways.

What has been most powerful is seeing the cumulative impact of this work. When vocabulary is positioned as a cornerstone of learning, students become more confident readers, more precise thinkers and more capable communicators. They are better equipped to navigate complex texts, engage in disciplinary thinking and articulate their understanding.

Presenting at the Summit this year was an opportunity to reflect on this journey and to share practical, adaptable strategies with other educators. It also reinforced the critical role that teacher librarians play in leading literacy across the curriculum. Through curation, collaboration and intentional teaching, libraries can drive approaches that ensure all students have access to the language of learning.

This work continues to evolve, but the core principle remains unchanged. If we want students to think deeply and learn effectively, we must first give them the words.

Why Science Fiction Belongs at the Heart of a Literacy‑Led Library Program

As a teacher librarian, my work is grounded in a simple but firm belief: literacy and literature must remain at the centre of learning. That does not mean avoiding complexity. It means choosing texts and genres that allow students to encounter complexity in ways that are humane, accessible and developmentally appropriate. Science fiction, often misunderstood as niche or escapist, is one of the most effective literary tools we have to do exactly that.

Science fiction offers students a way to think without feeling interrogated. It creates space for ideas to be explored rather than defended. When students encounter ethical dilemmas, social questions or scientific possibilities through story, the focus shifts from right answers to thoughtful engagement. The speculative distance of science fiction allows students to examine power, responsibility, identity and change without the pressure of personal disclosure or immediate real‑world positioning. This is not avoidance, it is scaffolding.

From a literacy perspective, science fiction is particularly powerful for vocabulary development. Scientific, technical and abstract concepts are embedded within narrative, image and character rather than presented as isolated definitions to be memorised. Students meet words repeatedly, across contexts, wrapped in story. This kind of exposure builds depth of understanding, not just surface recognition. It is vocabulary acquisition without confrontation, learning without the spike of anxiety that can come with academic language when it is taught in isolation.

Narratives such as novels and picture books sit at the heart of this work, especially when introducing complex ideas. No one is afraid of a story! Narratives disarm resistance, invite curiosity and slow the reading process in productive ways. A well‑chosen science fiction narrative can introduce abstract ideas such as time, artificial intelligence, environmental collapse or ethical choice without signalling to students that something “difficult” is coming. In particular, science fiction picture books promote the use of imager to carry meaning alongside words, allowing students to construct understanding through multiple pathways. This multimodal entry point is particularly powerful for reluctant readers, EALD students and those who have not yet built confidence as academic learners.

Science fiction has always played a role in shaping how societies imagine the future. Long before deep‑sea exploration or space travel became reality, writers were exploring these possibilities through fiction. That imaginative work mattered. It still does. When students read science fiction, they are not just consuming stories about the future, they are learning how to think about possibility, consequence and change. They practise asking “what if” and “what next?”, questions that sit at the core of critical literacy.

In the library, science fiction becomes a bridge between disciplines. It allows science, ethics, language and social understanding to sit alongside one another rather than compete for space. This aligns deeply with socio‑cultural theories of learning that emphasise language, context and dialogue as central to meaning‑making. Stories give students a shared reference point from which rich conversation can grow. They provide a common text that supports talk, questioning and interpretation, all essential elements of strong literacy practice.

Importantly, science fiction asks students to rethink social dilemmas rather than simply react to them. By following characters through imagined futures, students can explore moral uncertainty, empathise with perspectives unlike their own and consider the long‑term impact of human decisions. This builds ethical imagination alongside analytical skill. It teaches students that thinking deeply is more valuable than answering quickly.

For me, promoting science fiction is not about chasing trends or genre enthusiasm. It is about literacy leadership. It is about selecting texts that honour imagination while strengthening language, that support curiosity without sacrificing rigour. Science fiction does not sit on the edges of serious reading. In a literacy‑led library, it belongs at the centre.

And sometimes, the most powerful way to begin that journey is with a story.

References.

BookTrust. (n.d.). Why children’s science fiction is so important. https://www.booktrust.org.uk/resources/find-resources/why-childrens-science-fiction-is-so-important/

Diyora, S., & Abduramanova, D. (2024). The role of science fiction in enhancing critical thinking and ethical imagination in education. ASEAN Journal of Science and Engineering Education, 4(3), 211–216. https://doi.org/10.17509/ajsee.v4i3.82480

Eason, A. (2024, February 27). The psychological benefits of science fiction. https://adam-eason.com/the-psychological-benefits-of-science-fiction/

Jones, E. (2020, May 24). Sci‑fi and fantasy build mental resiliency in young readers. JSTOR Daily. https://daily.jstor.org/science-fiction-builds-mental-resiliency-young-readers/

Halliday, M. A. K., & Hasan, R. (1989). Language, context, and text: Aspects of language in a social-semiotic perspective (2nd ed.). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Vygotsky, L. S. (1978). Mind in society: The development of higher psychological processes. Harvard University Press.

Engaging Families Through the School Library – Parent/Child Book clubs.

School libraries occupy a unique position within the educational ecosystem. They sit at the intersection of learning, literacy and community, and are one of the few spaces within a school capable of meaningfully engaging students, teachers and families alike. A recent Primary Parent–Son Book Club, held in the library and deliberately designed as a shared reading experience, provided a valuable opportunity to reflect on the role school libraries can play in fostering sustained family engagement in learning.

Research strongly supports the importance of parental involvement in children’s literacy development. While early childhood reading practices are often emphasised, evidence suggests that shared reading continues to have a significant impact well into the primary and secondary years. An article published in The Conversation synthesises international research demonstrating that when parents continue to read with their children after they have become independent readers, students show stronger reading comprehension, higher levels of engagement and more positive attitudes towards reading. The social dimension of shared reading, including discussion, questioning and the modelling of reading behaviours, is consistently identified as a critical factor in these outcomes.

More recent research further reinforces this connection between family engagement and reading success. Hu, Zhuo and Guo’s 2025 study published in Children and Youth Services Review examined the relationship between parental involvement and adolescents’ reading performance. Their findings indicate that parental engagement remains a significant predictor of reading achievement, even as reading increasingly occurs in digital and multimodal contexts. Importantly, the study highlights that meaningful involvement extends beyond direct instruction to include shared experiences, conversations about texts and visible valuing of reading within the home environment.

Parent–child book clubs hosted through the school library offer a practical and research aligned way to translate these findings into everyday practice. In this case, families met informally in the library, shared pizza and engaged in guided discussion around common texts. The term’s focus was historical fiction centred on World War II, with text choices designed to support Year 5 and 6 reading levels while also inviting deeper discussion around themes of loyalty, resilience and survival. Three text options were offered to families to allow for choice and differentiation, while maintaining a shared conceptual focus across the group.

Morris Gleitzman’s Once was selected as one core text due to its accessibility, emotional resonance and status as the first novel in a well established and popular series for young readers. Titles by Katrina Nannestad were also chosen, particularly for her sophisticated yet accessible use of language, syntax and narrative imagery, which strongly support comprehension, vocabulary development and cognitive engagement. A third option offered greater flexibility, with some families selecting narrative non fiction biographies and others choosing popular fiction titles connected to the historical context. Wherever possible, Australian authors were prioritised, reflecting a deliberate commitment to celebrating Australian voices and ensuring students encounter texts that reflect national perspectives and storytelling traditions.

From a library perspective, initiatives such as parent–child book clubs serve multiple strategic purposes. They position the library as a welcoming and inclusive space, reinforce families as active partners in learning and create authentic opportunities for shared literacy practices that extend beyond the classroom. They also provide a tangible means of embedding research informed practice into school wide literacy approaches, demonstrating how libraries can move from advocacy to action.

Engaging families through the school library strengthens relationships, builds a shared language around reading and reinforces the understanding that literacy development is a collective responsibility. As school libraries continue to advocate for their central role in whole school literacy, family focused initiatives such as book clubs offer clear, evidence based examples of how libraries can connect learning, community and research in meaningful and sustainable ways.

Reflective and Reflexive Practice in Teacher Librarianship: Leadership, Ethics and Organisational Learning

Reflective practice is a transformative process that uses structured strategies to examine the ethics, values, and beliefs that shape professional behaviour and decision‑making. Learning organisations such as schools promote reflective and reflexive practices because they enhance ethical judgement, strengthen professional identity, and support improved learning outcomes. In educational contexts, reflective practice enables professionals to make decisions that are ethically and morally responsive, thus strengthening learning cultures and supporting the continual improvement of pedagogical practices. This is particularly significant for teacher librarians, whose roles span instruction, information leadership, and curriculum‑wide collaboration. For teacher librarians, reflective practice is central to exercising instructional and informational leadership, whether formally or informally by enhancing their capacity to analyse decisions, adapt programs, and support evidence‑informed improvement across the school.

Reflective practice, encompassing both reflection and reflexivity, enables individuals to critically evaluate personal and professional experience in order to challenge assumptions, biases and ideological influences. These practices play a significant role in improving outcomes by supporting knowledge creation, organisational learning and ethical responsiveness (Robson, 2022; Bolton & Delderfield, 2018). The strength of reflective practice lies in its capacity to prompt individuals and organisations to examine behaviours, values, decisions and actions, thereby uncovering the deeper influences that shape professional practice (Robson, 2022). For teacher librarians, whose work operates at the intersection of pedagogy, information science and leadership, reflective practice is essential to lifelong learning and professional renewal (Vaandering & Crego‑Emley, 2025). Continuous reflection enables teacher librarians to evaluate their practice both as information professionals and as teachers of literacy and learning to ensure positive and equitable student outcomes.

Robson (2022) defines reflection as a set of deliberate intellectual strategies that seek to improve knowledge by identifying the beliefs and values that underpin behaviour and action. This process can be challenging because it requires individuals and organisations to engage openly, honestly and vulnerably in order to examine identity and the reasoning behind particular practices (Bolton & Delderfield, 2018). Within educational settings, reflection is indispensable for ethical practice, personal growth and the promotion of equity and diversity within learning communities. From a relational ethics perspective, reflective practice supports educators to consider how their decisions and actions affect others, particularly in contexts shaped by power, inclusion and responsibility (Bolton & Delderfield, 2018).

Two key forms of reflection are commonly identified: reflection‑in‑action and reflection‑on‑action. Reflection‑in‑action occurs during practice, requiring professionals to draw on existing knowledge, skills and values to make real‑time judgements. Bolton and Delderfield (2018) note that this form of reflection often arises when individuals recognise themselves relying on habitual routines that may or may not align with their espoused values. Reflection‑on‑action, by contrast, occurs after an event has concluded and allows practitioners to analyse actions retrospectively, evaluate outcomes and adjust future practice. This form of reflection is often considered more powerful, as it supports deliberate learning and professional growth through evidence‑informed change.

While reflection focuses on examining experience, reflexivity extends this process by interrogating position, power and purpose. Reflexivity evaluates whether behaviours align with personal and professional goals while situating practice within broader social, cultural and political contexts (Bolton & Delderfield, 2018; Willig, 2019; Vu & Burton, 2020). Scholars argue that reflexive practice challenges individuals to question their own assumptions, identity and relationships to systems, ideologies and structures of influence (Robson, 2022; Vu & Burton, 2020). Through a relational ethics lens, reflexivity draws attention to how professional actions shape—and are shaped by—relationships with students, colleagues and communities. This process heightens ethical awareness by encouraging practitioners to interrogate attitudes, prejudices and taken‑for‑granted beliefs using theoretical frameworks and professional knowledge.

Reflexivity requires the capacity to recognise and, at times, decentre one’s own perspective in order to consider alternative viewpoints and experiences (Robson, 2022). While this decentring supports moral decision‑making and meaningful change, it can also be emotionally confronting, as it demands deep introspection and often benefits from external support such as dialogue with mentors or trusted colleagues. Despite these challenges, reflexivity contributes to transformative professional development by enabling individuals to realign beliefs, values and actions with their professional purpose. As a result, reflective and reflexive practices support not only individual growth but also organisational improvement, as schools benefit from enhanced professional judgement, transparent decision‑making and shared learning (Robson, 2022).

The Australian Professional Standards for Teachers emphasise reflective practice across multiple domains, even when reflection is not explicitly named. Teachers are required to plan coherent and well‑structured lessons, select effective teaching strategies and sequence content logically, all of which necessitate reflective judgement (AITSL, 2018). Educators must consider what worked, what did not, and how practice can be refined to better meet learner needs. Regular engagement with reflective practice supports the development of critical pedagogy, as educators connect instructional decisions to outcomes and recognise gaps in knowledge or limitations in practice (Vaandering & Crego‑Emley, 2025; Bolton & Delderfield, 2018). Importantly, reflection must be distinguished from rumination. Purposeful reflection is evidence‑informed, action‑oriented and ethically grounded, whereas rumination is unproductive and rarely leads to professional growth or improvement.

Reflective practice is also central to effective educational leadership. Leaders who model reflective behaviours foster organisational learning by encouraging the sharing and refinement of both tacit and explicit knowledge (Robson, 2022). Through reflective policies and cultures of inquiry, leaders create collaborative environments in which practice is continually examined and improved. For teacher librarians, who frequently occupy informal or middle‑leadership positions, reflective leadership enables them to evaluate systems, support colleagues and advocate for responsive, inclusive learning practices. Reflection in this context functions not merely as a personal skill but as an organisational asset that drives sustainable improvement.

Reflective and reflexive practice is particularly vital for teacher librarians, whose responsibilities encompass pedagogy, information literacy, curriculum support and leadership across the school (Vaandering & Crego‑Emley, 2025). These intersecting roles require continual adaptation to evolving student and staff needs. Reflective and reflexive thinking strengthens decision‑making and enhances the capacity of teacher librarians to lead and model best practice. Reflexivity, in particular, challenges teacher librarians to test actions against professional values, knowledge and experience, transforming individual insight into integrated, ethical practice. Moral reflexivity is especially important given that school libraries often serve diverse, vulnerable and marginalised communities and operate as critical third spaces for learning and belonging (Vu & Burton, 2020). As many teacher librarians work in isolation as sole information professionals, professional networks and collegial relationships play a crucial role in providing external perspectives that support reflection and shared problem‑solving.

Despite their value, reflective and reflexive practices present challenges for educators. Time constraints, heavy workloads and competing priorities can limit opportunities for deep reflection. Reflective work may also require emotional labour, particularly when honest self‑evaluation reveals biases or areas of discomfort. Over‑reflection can lead to rumination rather than action, while a lack of psychological safety may result in superficial or performative reflection. Additionally, educators differ in their familiarity with reflective frameworks, and without appropriate guidance or structure, reflective practice may lack depth. Recognising these challenges highlights the importance of professional supports such as mentoring, coaching and collaborative communities of practice that enable meaningful and sustainable reflective engagement.

Engaging deeply in reflective and reflexive practice is fundamental to ethical, responsive and effective professional practice within learning organisations. Reflection enables educators and leaders to examine experience, improve pedagogy and make reasoned, evidence‑informed decisions, while reflexivity extends this process by interrogating identity, values and assumptions within broader relational, social and moral contexts. Together, these practices move professionals beyond technical improvement towards transformative understanding.

For teacher librarians in particular, reflective and reflexive practice underpins their work as instructional and informational leaders. Their capacity to lead literacy, inquiry and knowledge‑rich learning across the curriculum depends on continual evaluation of practice, ethical judgement and alignment between professional values and action. Through reflective leadership, teacher librarians model critical inquiry, support inclusive learning environments and contribute to organisational learning by translating individual insight into shared professional knowledge. Ultimately, reflective and reflexive leadership strengthens both individual capability and collective capacity. In schools committed to continuous improvement, reflective practice is not optional; it is a professional and moral imperative that ensures decisions remain ethically grounded, relationally responsive and centred on learner growth.

references

Australian Institute for Teaching and School Leadership. (2018). Australian professional standards for teachers. AITSL. https://www.aitsl.edu.au/standards

Bolton, G., & Delderfield, R. (2018). Reflective practice: Writing and professional development. ACU Library

Robson, J. (2022). Teacher professional learning and development: Practices of reflection. ACU Library

Vaandering, A. G., & Crego‑Emley, A. (2025). The library instructor as learner: A survey of reflective teaching practices in U.S. academic libraries. Communications in Information Literacy, 19(2), 220–241. https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/library-instructor-as-learner-survey-reflective/docview/3295971614/se-2

Vu, T., & Burton, L. (2020). Moral reflexivity and responsible management. ACU Library

Willig, C. (2019). Interpretive phenomenology and reflexive practice. ACU Library

Lit & Lively – sharing stories

Lit & Lively, the school’s staff book club, is embracing the shadows this month with a gothic themed gathering titled April After Dark. This month’s meeting is centred around gothic literature, inviting staff to explore darker moods, mysterious settings, and stories that linger long after the final page. The format is welcoming and flexible. Staff read one shared text together, giving everyone a common starting point for discussion, before branching out into a range of gothic titles from the library collection. Each participant received a carefully prepared book pack, lovingly packed with the novels, a tea bag, and a chocolate biscuit, turning the reading experience into a small but meaningful indulgence during the autumn break.

April After Dark has also been a practical and creative way of using class sets that usually sit out of season. By repurposing these texts for staff reading, the library is reintroducing overlooked titles and highlighting how versatile the collection can be. Many participants have discovered books and genres they might never have explored without a themed invitation. It also reflects an important part of the Teacher Librarian role, which is not only to support students, but to guide and encourage staff in their own reading journeys and engagement with literature.

Through Lit & Lively, staff are gaining a deeper understanding of the breadth and depth of the school’s collection and reinforces the library as more than a curriculum support space. It is a place for curiosity, enjoyment, and reading for pleasure, modelling the reading culture we encourage in students.

There is also a strong wellbeing element. Reading for pleasure can act as a form of bibliotherapy, offering comfort, escape, and emotional renewal. Teachers often have little opportunity to read during the term, and the autumn break provides a rare pause to do so. Finally, Lit & Lively celebrates the social side of reading. Book clubs create space for conversation, shared reflection, and connection, reminding us that reading is often richest when it is shared.

As April grows darker, April After Dark reminds us that reading together can be restorative, enriching, and deeply human. Lit & Lively continues to affirm that teachers deserve time to read, reflect, and reconnect too.