literacy – Learning through the Library

Keeping Minds Sharp: Beating the Summer Reading Slump Together

As the scholastic year draws to a close, children and teenagers eagerly anticipate the long summer holidays filled with play, family time and relaxation. While this break is important for wellbeing, research consistently shows that it can also lead to what is known as the summer reading slump. This phenomenon refers to the decline in literacy skills that many children experience during extended school breaks. Studies have found that children can lose up to a month of learning over summer, particularly in reading and spelling, with the effect most pronounced among children from lower socio-economic backgrounds who may have limited access to books and literacy-rich environments (National Library of New Zealand, n.d.).

Evidence from New Zealand highlights the importance of structured literacy teaching in preventing this decline. A study published in the New Zealand Journal of Educational Studies determined that the impact of explicit phonics, phoneme awareness and decoding strategies can embed foundational skills deeply enough to withstand the summer gap (Vosslamber, Walker, Millar-Swan, Motha, & Gillon, 2025). This reinforces the idea that strong classroom instruction can provide a buffer against learning loss.

Alongside structured teaching, regular reading at level is critical. When children engage with texts that match their ability, they reinforce vocabulary, comprehension and decoding skills while building confidence and motivation. Reading at level prevents cognitive decline associated with long breaks from literacy activities. Research also shows that children who participate in summer reading programs are more likely to maintain or improve their literacy skills. Benefits include increased motivation, improved comprehension and stronger connections between home and school learning (Reading Eggs, n.d.).

Governments and councils are aware of the risks posed by summer learning loss, which is why many have invested in free summer reading programs. These initiatives encourage children to keep reading for pleasure and skill development during the holidays. The Brisbane City Council Summer Reading Program, for example, offers fun challenges, rewards and community engagement to keep children motivated throughout the break (Brisbane City Council, n.d.). Programs like these not only support literacy but also foster a love of reading that lasts well beyond the summer months.

At my school, we have taken this one step further by setting up a summer reading challenge for both staff and students in the form of bookmarks. Students were given bookmarks that encouraged them to read a funny book, a book with a hero, a book by an Australian author and a book with an animal character.

Staff were challenged to read a book that made them laugh, one that made them cry, a book that gave hope and one recommended by a friend. This shared challenge not only promotes literacy but also builds a sense of community, with staff and students alike engaging in conversations about their reading choices and discovering new perspectives together.

The summer holidays should be a time of joy, but they do not have to mean a setback in learning. With structured teaching approaches, regular reading at level, community programs that make books accessible and fun, and school-based initiatives like reading challenges, children and adults alike can return to school inspired and ready to thrive. The evidence is clear: consistent engagement with reading is one of the most effective ways to prevent the summer slump and ensure that literacy skills continue to grow.

Suggestions for Teachers and Parents

Encourage children to read daily, even for short periods, with books that match their reading level.
Provide access to a variety of texts, including humorous stories, adventure tales, and culturally relevant works.
Model reading behaviour by sharing your own reading experiences and discussing books together.
Participate in local library programs or community reading initiatives to maintain motivation.
Create family reading routines, such as bedtime stories or shared reading times, to embed literacy into everyday life.
Celebrate reading achievements with small rewards or recognition to sustain enthusiasm.

References:

Brisbane City Council. (n.d.). Summer reading program. Retrieved December 9, 2025, from https://services.brisbane.qld.gov.au/online-services/libraries-venues-and-facilities/summer-reading-program

National Library of New Zealand. (n.d.). Summer slide and summer reading research. Retrieved December 9, 2025, from https://natlib.govt.nz/schools/reading-engagement/summer-reading/summer-slide-and-summer-reading-research

Reading Eggs. (n.d.). Benefits of summer reading programs. Retrieved December 9, 2025, from https://readingeggs.com.au/articles/benefits-summer-reading-programs

Vosslamber, A., Walker, J., Millar-Swan, A., Motha, J., & Gillon, G. (2025). The impact of Better Start Literacy Approach teaching on the retention of children’s early literacy skills over the summer holidays. New Zealand Journal of Educational Studies, 60(3), 435–449. https://doi.org/10.1007/s40841-025-00405-2

Crossing Generational Trauma- Wild Swans and Fly Wild Swans.

Women, Memory and Exile: A School Library Reflection

Adding Fly Wild Swans to our school library felt like a natural continuation of a legacy. Wild Swans has long stood as a canonical piece of literature, a book that captures the struggles of three generations of women against the backdrop of China’s political upheavals. In her second publication Fly Wild Swans, Jung Chang turns her gaze inward, reflecting on the cost of telling that story and the way truth can estrange a writer from her homeland. It is a pensive work that reminds us how women across centuries have shouldered familial and societal expectations, carrying memory and resilience even when nations would rather forget.

For students, these books are more than history. They are lessons in courage, in the power of memory and in the resilience of women who endured both familial duty and political oppression. Wild Swans explores the tension between tradition and rapid government‑driven progress. What was presented as modernisation often meant the destruction of customs and the breaking of family bonds as the Cultural Revolution tore families apart and demanded loyalty at the expense of tradition. Her story gave voice to three generations of women living through the upheavals of Mao’s China and this new work is written not only of her mother and her homeland, but of the burden of truth itself, and the cost of bearing witness when a nation would rather forget.

Fly Wild Swans reveals the aftermath of telling that truth, showing how a writer can be celebrated abroad yet silenced at home. Jung Chang turns her gaze inward, reflecting on the cost of telling that story and the way truth can estrange a writer from her homeland. Unlike Wild Swans, which focused on her mother and grandmother, this new work is more personal. It explores how writing Wild Swans changed her life, both opening doors in the West and closing them in China. There is a deep melancholy in her reflections on being unable to freely return to her birthplace. The success of Wild Swans brought her recognition abroad but estrangement at home. This tension between belonging and exclusion mirrors the broader story of women in history, who have often been celebrated for their endurance yet denied the freedom to define themselves.

I chose to buy Fly Wild Swans for my school library because it is a book that students should encounter, not only for its historical insight but also for its profound exploration of resilience, identity and the role of women in shaping and surviving history. Adding Fly Wild Swans to our collection ensures that the conversation continues, allowing readers to see how the legacy of truth‑telling reverberates across generations.

By placing both works on our shelves, we invite students to consider how politics, family and identity intersect, and how women across centuries have borne the burden of expectation while still finding ways to endure. These books remind us that literature is not static. It evolves, it questions and it carries forward the weight of generations.

Reflecting on the story of the shelves.

At the end of each school day, I wander through the library and notice the gaps and blank spaces. Why? It is because the shelves never lie about the books that are loved the most. These are the ones that stack tall on our return trolleys. To be fair, they are also the ones that leave with another student almost instantly. They are the ones with worn spines, grubby covers and suspicious stains on the pages. Yet all of them tell me a story. They all tell me something about our school community.

Non‑fiction loans follow the interests of the boys themselves, whether it be cars, music, military equipment, or funnily enough… anatomy. These choices show me that curiosity is not confined to the classroom but stretches into the interests, curiousities, passions, and fascinations that shape their lives outside the school grounds.

The sports shelves mimic the seasons almost perfectly. Footy fades as winter ends, and suddenly, cricket biographies and fiction surge forward, especially anything tied to the upcoming Ashes. It is as if the rhythm of the sporting calendar beats through the borrowing habits of our students, reflecting not just their interests but the pulse of the wider culture around them.

The novels tell another kind of story. Fantasy sagas rarely rest long before they are whisked away again, dragons, quests and magical lands offering both escape and courage. Contemporary stories about identity and belonging circulate steadily too, often returned with dog‑eared pages. Those books feel like companions, helping students navigate questions of who they are and where they fit.

Certain authors move faster than most. This year we have seen a sharp update in request for Orwell’s works that seemed to be borrowed by students who want to think critically, because his sharp observations on society still resonating decades later. King’s novels vanish quickly from the shelves too, his blend of horror and humanity appealing to readers who crave both thrills and reflection. Griffiths brings laughter and lightness, his quirky humour and imaginative plots offering relief from the seriousness of school life. Kinney’s books are snapped up by younger readers, his diary‑style storytelling capturing the awkwardness and comedy of growing up. Walliams adds another layer of fun, his playful characters and outrageous scenarios proving irresistible to students who want a quick, joyful read. Bancks, with his Australian voice and relatable themes, connects directly to the local experience, showing students their own world reflected back at them. Heath’s stories move quickly too, often chosen by readers who enjoy adventure and fast‑paced plots. And then there is Rowling. Her magical universe remains evergreen, with titles borrowed again and again by students who want to lose themselves in a world of spells and friendship. Dashner’s dystopian tales race through the library as well, his fast‑moving plots and high stakes gripping readers who love suspense.

And then there are the comfort reads. During exam season, familiar series, lighthearted tales and joke books fly off the shelves, as if students are reaching for something steady and reassuring when stress runs high. When headlines outside the school walls grow louder, books on social issues suddenly become popular, showing me how our community is engaging with the wider world.

Over time, these borrowing trends become a mirror. They reflect curiosity, resilience, joy and sometimes vulnerability. They remind me that the library is not just a place to find information, it is a living record of what matters most to our students at any given moment. Each book borrowed is a quiet signal, a way of saying, this is what I need right now.

Together, these authors form a chorus of voices that shape the identity of our school community. Orwell challenges us to question, King dares us to feel fear and empathy, Griffiths and Kinney make us laugh, Walliams and Heath keep us entertained, Bancks grounds us in our own backyard, Rowling invites us into magic, and Dashner pushes us to imagine futures both thrilling and uncertain. Their collective presence on our shelves is more than entertainment, it is a reflection of the many ways our students seek to learn, to grow and to belong.

And as the year turns, the shelves whisper back, carrying the heartbeat of our community in every borrowed book.

Sundays, Libraries, and the Quiet Crisis in Reading

On Sundays, our family has a rhythm. We go to church in the morning, then its off to our local library. The kids scatter to their favourite corners, borrowing books and settling in to read whatever strikes their fancy. The only rule is, that for every book that is a re-read, there must be one you have not read before.

Whilst my children scurry to their favourite genres, I grab a coffee and wander the shelves, letting my eyes land on whatever catches my eye. My husband always chuckles at this part. “You work in a library,” he says, amused. He’s right, of course. I do. But I work in a boys’ school library, and let’s just say the collection doesn’t quite float my boat. We then settle down for 30-45min of quiet reading together, but all on individual journeys.

Cook, S. (2025, November 5). *It will take more than the new Children’s Booker Prize to arrest the dramatic decline in reading enjoyment*. The Conversation. https://theconversation.com/it-will-take-more-than-the-new-childrens-booker-prize-to-arrest-the-dramatic-decline-in-reading-enjoyment-268777

There’s something different about being in a space where reading is chosen, not assigned. Where stories are picked for pleasure, not performance. That contrast has been sitting with me lately, especially after reading Loh et al.’s 2025 report on the decline in volitional reading and a recent piece in The Conversation about the new Children’s Booker Prize. Both paint a sobering picture: young people are reading less, and they’re enjoying it even less than that.

Loh, C. E. et al. (2025) The Decline in Volitional
Reading: Evidence-Informed Ways Forward.
National Institute of Education, Nanyang
Technological University, Singapore.

Loh’s recommendations to improve literacy success.

agency
access to literature
time in daily routines
reflection and connection
social interaction
developing a positive reading identity

What struck me most in Loh’s report was what wasn’t there. None of the key principles mention curriculum reform. None suggest that testing is the answer. Instead, the focus is on joy, choice, and connection. Reading for pleasure is framed not as a luxury, but as a necessity. It’s a stronger predictor of reading attainment than socioeconomic status. That’s huge. It means that if we want to close literacy gaps, we need to open up space for enjoyment.

In my school library, I see the tension. Boys who associate reading with assignments, comprehension questions, and accelerated reader points. Not with curiosity or escape. Not with laughter or awe. And I wonder: what would happen if we let go of the scaffolds and trusted them to choose? The Conversation article makes a similar point. Awards like the Children’s Booker are lovely, but they won’t shift the culture on their own. What we need is a reimagining of reading in schools. Less about outcomes, more about experience. Less about control, more about trust.

Furthermore, parents need to remember that they are their children’s first educators. Is reading and literacy your household value? One of the key findings in Loh’s research is that children need access to literature and to see it modelled by the adults around them. Do parents take their kids to the library? Do they read in front of their children? Or do they presume that schools will take care of it? Do they even ask their children how often they visit the school library? These questions matter. Because when reading is visible and valued at home, it becomes part of a child’s identity, not just a school subject.

So here’s my quiet Sunday reflection: maybe the best thing we can do as educators is to make room and provide time. Room for stories that speak to our students. Room for browsing, for borrowing, for reading without a worksheet attached. Room for libraries that float their boats and time to lie back and float away.

Because when reading becomes a choice again, it becomes a joy again. And that’s where the magic lives.

Fiction is a safe place to break the rules

I recently attended the QSLA conference at the beautiful State Library of Queensland. It was a fantastic day for school informational professionals to gather, share emerging news, identify new trends and trade in good old fashioned work chit chat.

Andy Griffiths – author of the famous Treehouse series, was our keynote speaker. I have known of Andy’s work for almost a decade. Whilst I have admired his works, I hadn’t fully appreciated his philosophy until now. His words, much like his books, were playful on the surface but deeply subversive underneath. They invited us to reconsider not just how children read, but why they need stories that break the rules.

Griffiths and his co-creator, illustrator Terry Denton have created the inventive, imaginative chaos that is the Treehouse series. I found it amusing that they named the main characters after themselves. Their fictional versions live in an ever expanding treehouse that defies logic and gravity, expanding with each book to include ludicrous additions like a marshmallow machine, a tank of man-eating sharks, and even a volcano. Their adventures are reckless, absurd, and often dangerous. But that danger is never real. It’s theatrical. It’s safe. It’s fiction.

… and that is the point. It is fiction as Andy pointed out last week to a large group of educators and informational professionals.

Fiction is a safe place to break the rules.

I was mesmerised by this quote. That quote stayed with me. It echoed through the conference halls and followed me home. In an article published by the ABC in 2018, Griffiths argued that fiction as a “last frontier”, a place where children can explore worst-case scenarios without consequence. He said: “Books are the last frontier of freedom and wilderness for kids, for imagining dangerous things, for imagining craziness and worst-case scenarios” (Blau, 2018).

This was so true. In a world increasingly obsessed with safety, structure, and supervision, Griffiths’ books offer a counterbalance. They don’t just entertain their readers… they liberate them! They allow children to imagine running across six lanes of traffic or jumping into a volcano, not because they should, but because they can. In fiction, the consequences are exaggerated, the outcomes are ridiculous, and the lessons are embedded in laughter. Griffiths uses humour to engage the reader and builds into that playful sense that children have. As Griffiths said last week, “Reading is a game between the reader and the author. Authors make black marks on pages. Readers use these marks to make an image in their heads.”

I then thought about all the other books that ‘helped me break rules’. Darryl and Sally hosting midnight feasts at Mallory Towers, Matilda using her brain to solve problems, Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew resolving mysterious events. Each of these characters and books gave me option I may not have thought of previously.

Leaving the conference, I felt a renewed appreciation for the role of literature in childhood. Not just as a tool for literacy, but as a sanctuary for wild thought. Griffiths reminded us that imagination isn’t just fun. It’s vital. It’s how children rehearse life, test boundaries, and build resilience.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s how they learn to be free.

What books set you free?

To go digital or hardcopy, that is the question …

I’ve just returned from a wedding overseas. It was a beautiful celebration, and between the flights and lounges, I had time to catch up on some reading. Normally, I’d pack a couple of paperbacks, but this time, I decided to travel light and for the first time, go digital only.

This was not a lightly made decision! Before I left, I logged into eWheelers through my school account and downloaded a few titles I’d been meaning to read and others for my children. I also used BorrowBox via my Brisbane City Council library membership. I accessed both platforms on my phone, which made it incredibly easy to dip in and out of books whenever I had a spare moment. One of the great things about eWheelers is that it works across multiple devices, so whether you’re on a tablet, laptop, or mobile, your library is always within reach. It can also be read offline, as can books on Borrowbox which makes it perfect for when WiFi is not available.

Ebooks are brilliant for travel. They offer the flexibility to read whatever you fancy without the bulk. It’s quick, convenient, and surprisingly satisfying to flick through pages with just a tap. For students, ebooks and or audiobooks, are becoming an increasingly valuable library resource. Many prefer them because they’re easy to access, allow for tech engagement, and offer features that physical books simply can’t.

Digital reading platforms often include options to change font sizes, switch to dyslexia-friendly fonts, or even translate texts into different languages. This makes eBooks especially helpful for students with vision impairments, learning differences, or those studying in multilingual environments. It’s a more inclusive way to read, and it’s reshaping how libraries support diverse learning needs.

And let’s be honest, eBooks also preserve a bit of anonymity. I’ll admit, I indulged in a cheeky bit of romantasy and adult fiction on the plane, the kind of titles that might raise eyebrows if I were carrying the physical copy around in public or completely mortify my children next to me! For young people, this privacy is gold. It allows them to explore genres they might be embarrassed to share with peers, especially when it comes to romance or identity-focused narratives.

This ties into a broader issue: many teens feel pressure to conform to social norms, especially around gender expectations. Ebooks offer teens a quiet refuge—a way to read without the gaze of others. For students navigating the delicate terrain of romance, identity, or emotionally expressive stories, this privacy matters. These genres, often unfairly stigmatised among peers, can feel too vulnerable to carry in plain sight. Smith and Wilhelm (2002) observed that boys, in particular, are more inclined to engage with emotionally rich narratives when the fear of judgement is lifted. In this way, digital reading becomes more than convenience, it becomes a gentle permission to explore, reflect, and connect with stories that might otherwise remain untouched.

eBooks also allow for customisation, changing fonts, adjusting layouts, and even switching languages, which makes reading more accessible and less intimidating for students with dyslexia, vision impairments, or those learning English as an additional language. For teens navigating identity, peer pressure, and personal growth, digital reading can be a quiet revolution, one page at a time.

That said, I do miss the tactile joy of a real book. The smell of the pages, the feel of the spine, and the quiet ritual of turning each leaf offer a kind of bibliotherapy that digital formats can’t replicate. There’s something grounding about physically interacting with a book that screens just don’t deliver. This feeling is evident from what the research tells us and what my experience has been as a teacher librarian in high schools because teenagers still express a strong preference for physical books despite the popularity of digital reading platforms. This inclination is often tied to the sensory and emotional experience that printed books provide such as the feel of the pages, the smell of the paper, and the visual satisfaction of seeing progress through a tangible object. Young readers, in particular, report screen fatigue and eye strain from prolonged digital use, making physical books a welcome reprieve from their tech-saturated lives (World Economic Forum, 2023). Additionally, cultural trends like #BookTok have reignited enthusiasm for printed books, with teens embracing the aesthetic and social aspects of owning and sharing physical copies (Literary Hub, 2023). Research also shows that teens retain information better and concentrate more effectively when reading print, especially in academic settings (ResearchGate, 2024). These findings suggest that while ebooks offer convenience and accessibility, physical books continue to hold a meaningful place in teen reading habits.

Still, for this trip, convenience won. And who knows, maybe next time I’ll sneak a paperback in for old time’s sake.

references

Australia Reads. (2024). 7 ways to support Australian teens in reading for pleasure. https://australiareads.org.au/news/7-ways-support-teen-reading

Literary Hub. (2023, March 14). In a surprise to no one, Gen Z prefers printed books over e-books. https://lithub.com/in-a-surprise-to-no-one-gen-z-prefers-printed-books-over-e-books/

ResearchGate. (2024). A comparative analysis of the student preferences for digital and physical books in library usage. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/385616029_A_Comparative_Analysis_of_the_Student_Preferences_for_Digital_and_Physical_Books_in_Library_Usage

Queensland Department of Education. (2024). Impact of eBooks: Exploring student health, learning and implications. https://education.qld.gov.au/about/reporting-data-research/research/Documents/impact-ebooks-report.pdf

Smith, M. W., & Wilhelm, J. D. (2002). Reading don’t fix no Chevys: Literacy in the lives of young men. Heinemann.

University of Edinburgh. (2024). Supporting teenagers’ reading enjoyment and engagement: A guide for teachers and librarians. https://blogs.ed.ac.uk/literacylab

World Economic Forum. (2023, March 13). Gen Zers are bookworms but say they’re shunning e-books because of eye strain, digital detoxing and their love for libraries. https://www.weforum.org/stories/2023/03/gen-zers-are-bookworms-but-say-theyre-shunning-e-books-because-of-eye-strain-digital-detoxing-and-their-love-for-libraries

Banned Books Week: Censorship, Selection, and the Role of the Teacher Librarian.

Each year, Banned Books Week invites us to reflect on the importance of intellectual freedom and the dangers of censorship. Around the world, books are challenged or removed from shelves due to content deemed offensive or ideologically inappropriate by local authorities. These decisions often reflect broader societal tensions around race, gender, sexuality, and political beliefs.

In Australia, the free flow of information is protected by legislation such as the Freedom of Information Act, and championed by organisations like the Australian Library and Information Association (ALIA). ALIA upholds core values of open access to knowledge and ideas, ensuring that libraries remain spaces where diverse perspectives can be explored without fear or restriction. Public libraries, in particular, play a vital role in this mission by offering equitable access to information and digital resources for all citizens. Platforms like Trove, hosted by the National Library of Australia, further support this by providing access to a vast and growing collection of digitised newspapers, books, images, and more.

However, the conversation around banned books takes on a different tone in school libraries. Here, the issue is not so much about banning books, but about what to include. School libraries operate within a framework of collection development and management policies, which guide decisions about which resources best support the needs of the school community. The point of a school library is to support student success by providing access to resources that meets the curriculum whilst also fostering skills in reading, research and informational literacy. Therefore, any policies regarding the breadth and depth of a collection will factor in curriculum relevance, age appropriateness, and the diversity of student experiences.

So when I look at the list of most commonly banned books worldwide… I realise we have most of them on the shelves.

Most Commonly Banned Books Worldwide (All-Time)

The Catcher in the Rye – J.D. Salinger
Banned for profanity, sexual content, and themes of rebellion.
- We have this title as it is considered a classic as is in our senior collection aimed for sophisticated readers in Grade 10 and above.
To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee
Challenged for racial themes and language
- We have this title as it is considered a classic. It currently sits in our Classics collection and is available for students to borrow. It is also a class text and is frequently used as part of novel studies.
1984 – George Orwell
Banned for political themes and criticism of totalitarianism
- We have this title as it is considered a classic. It currently sits in our Classics collection and is available for students to borrow. It is also a class text and is frequently used as part of novel studies.
Harry Potter series – J.K. Rowling
Challenged for promoting witchcraft and occultism
- We have numerous copies of this!
The Satanic Verses – Salman Rushdie
Banned in several countries for blasphemy
- We don’t have this text as it does address the curriculum.
The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood
Banned for sexual content and perceived anti-religious themes
- We have this title as it is considered a classic. We do have this novel in our senior collection aimed for sophisticated readers in Grade 10 and above. It is also a class text and has been used as part of novel studies.
Beloved – Toni Morrison
Challenged for graphic depictions of slavery and violence.
- We don’t have this text as part of our collection. We do have 12 years a slave, The Colour Purple and Uncle Tom’s Cabin.
Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov
Banned for being “obscene” in several countries
- We do not have this novel because it does not meet any curriculum requirements.
Fifty Shades of Grey – E.L. James
Banned for erotic content and BDSM themes
- We do not have this novel because it does not meet any curriculum requirements.
The Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck
Banned for political reasons and profanity.
- We do have this novel in our senior collection aimed for sophisticated readers in Grade 10 and above.

I will point out that one of the challenges of being in a school with students from Grade 5-12 is that what may be appropriate for a senior student to read may not me developmentally appropriate for a younger boy. To manage this, we have further classified the fiction texts into general (all years), middle fiction (Grades 7-9) and senior fiction (Grades 10-12). Students are able to freely access resources within their ‘age range’. However, they require parental permission to access more sophisticated readers. This ‘limiting’ of access is our way of supporting the free movement of information whilst acknowledging that some novel themes could cause distress to an immature brain.

This distinction of inclusion versus exclusion of texts is crucial. While public libraries are bound by principles of universal access, school libraries must balance educational goals with community values. This is where the role of a teacher librarian is imperative because school libraries need staff that are fully trained and qualified. They need someone who is an informational professional and an educator to be able to craft a collection development policy that helps ensure that resource selection is transparent, consistent, and inclusive, rather than reactive or restrictive. It is this combined capacity that empowers teacher librarians to advocate for collections that reflect the richness of student identities and the complexity of the world they inhabit. Unfortunately, here in Queensland, many schools lack a qualified informational professional in their school library, that is if they have a library at all! This an absolute travesty for the children and their wider communities.

Ultimately, Banned Books Week reminds us all why intellectual freedom matters. This week serves as a poignant reminder of the fragile nature of intellectual freedom as it honours the fundamental right to read, to explore ideas from all perspectives, and to seek truth without interference. Each year, the spotlight falls on books that have been challenged or removed because they represent discomfort or dissent for a select few individuals. However, in doing so, we need to think about the deeper cost of censorship: the narrowing of thought, the silencing of voices, and the erosion of a society built on open inquiry and democratic exchange. Whether in public or school libraries, our responsibility is to foster environments where curiosity is encouraged, critical thinking is nurtured, and all voices have the opportunity to be heard.

Spring cleaning your shelves.

Last chance reads & Literary weeds.

If you’ve ever heard the term “weeding” in the context of school libraries and pictured yourself in gumboots pulling dandelions from the fiction section—don’t worry, you’re not alone. But while it might sound like a gardening chore, weeding in libraries is a vital part of collection development. Think of it as removing the junk so the flowers can stand out—because every great library deserves to blossom.

Weeding, or deselection, is the process of removing outdated, damaged, irrelevant, or unused resources from the collection. It’s not about discarding books for the sake of it; it’s about curating a vibrant, purposeful collection that supports student learning, teacher needs, and curriculum goals. A well-weeded collection is easier to navigate, more appealing to browse, and more likely to be used. It’s the difference between a cluttered storeroom and a well-organised learning hub.

Here in our library, we’re about to begin a weeding process ahead of our fiction stocktake. From a logistical perspective, it gives us a chance to winnow what is not being effectively utilised and what is not supporting the ethos of our library. It also gives us the perfect opportunity to refresh the shelves and make space for stories that truly resonate with our readers. We’ll be using our Collection Development and Management Policy to guide our decisions, focusing on books that are outdated, physically unattractive (yes, those yellowed pages and cracked spines count!), or simply no longer meeting the needs of our school community. If it hasn’t been borrowed in years, doesn’t reflect current values, or makes students wrinkle their noses, it’s probably time to say goodbye.

However, I will add that I have an inner Book Dragon and that one is loathe to get rid of books. Therefore, just to make sure, we are going to give these books one last hurrah, we’re setting up a “Last Chance Borrow” display. This is a fun and engaging way to spotlight forgotten titles that might still have a spark of interest left in them. Students and staff will have the chance to browse and borrow these books before they’re officially retired. Who knows—maybe a hidden gem will find a new fan! It’s also a great opportunity to start conversations about what makes a book worth keeping and how our reading tastes evolve over time.

Our process of weeding is made easier by having a very clear policy and process. Our LMS, Oliver, provides us with a list of titles that have not been borrowed in recent times. This list, combined with our policy, helps us set clear parameters and ensures that our choices are thoughtful and consistent. We’re not just tossing out books—we’re making room for new voices, fresh ideas, and engaging reads that support literacy and learning. Weeding also helps us maintain a collection that’s inclusive, relevant, and aligned with our school’s educational goals.

Of course, weeding can be emotional. Saying goodbye to old favourites isn’t easy. But remember: a library isn’t a museum. It’s a living, breathing space for discovery and growth. And just like a garden, it needs regular tending. So grab your metaphorical secateurs, consult your policy, and let those literary flowers bloom. Your students—and your shelves—will thank you.

Growing Up on the Page: Teaching Coming-of-Age Novels in Australian Classrooms

Coming-of-age novels have long held a central place in literature, offering rich terrain for both personal reflection and academic exploration. For educators working with adolescents, these texts are more than just stories—they are mirrors and windows into the complex journey of growing up. This post explores why coming-of-age literature resonates so deeply with teenagers, why it matters in the curriculum, and how educators can harness its potential to foster empathy, identity formation, and critical thinking.

Bildungsroman

Adolescence is a period marked by emotional intensity, identity exploration, and social upheaval. Coming-of-age novels, also known as bildungsroman, capture this liminal space with authenticity and nuance. Teen readers often see themselves reflected in protagonists who grapple with similar dilemmas: family conflict, peer pressure, romantic entanglements, and the search for purpose. These narratives validate the adolescent experience, offering reassurance that their struggles are not isolated but part of a universal human journey.

Moreover, the first-person perspective common in young adult fiction allows readers to inhabit the protagonist’s inner world. This immersive quality fosters emotional resonance and encourages teens to reflect on their own values, choices, and aspirations. As Biscontini (2024) noted, coming-of-age literature “provides young people with a relatable experience while offering adults a sense of nostalgia,” and often centres on the loss of innocence, self-discovery, and the struggle to adapt to societal expectations.

Why They Matter in the Curriculum

From a pedagogical standpoint, coming-of-age novels are invaluable tools for teaching literary analysis, thematic exploration, and cultural literacy. These texts often engage with issues such as race, gender, class, and mental health: topics that are both timely and timeless. By studying these works, students develop empathy and gain insight into diverse lived experiences.

Importantly, coming-of-age literature also supports identity development. For students from marginalised backgrounds, seeing characters who reflect their realities can be empowering. For others, these stories offer a chance to understand perspectives different from their own. As such, these novels contribute to a more inclusive and socially aware classroom environment (Federation of Egalitarian Communities, 2024).

Why Choosing the Right Text Matters—Especially for Boys.

“Puberty is merciless. Regardless of who you are,” Becky Albertalli in Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda

This sentiment that captures the emotional turbulence of adolescence with striking clarity. For boys, this period can be particularly complex, often shaped by conflicting expectations around masculinity, emotional restraint, and identity formation.

Choosing the right coming-of-age texts for boys is not merely about fostering a love of reading. It is about offering them tools for emotional literacy, ethical reasoning, and self-reflection. These stories help boys navigate moral ambiguity, understand the consequences of choices, and appreciate the nuances of human relationships. Crucially, they provide a safe space to explore vulnerability, fear, and belonging, which often occur before boys feel equipped to express these experiences in their own words.

Selecting texts that feature emotionally authentic male protagonists, whether they be sensitive, conflicted, resilient, or flawed; can disrupt narrow stereotypes and expand boys’ understanding of what it means to grow up. When boys see themselves reflected in literature, or encounter perspectives that challenge their assumptions, they are more likely to engage deeply and critically.

Incorporating well-chosen coming-of-age novels into the curriculum also supports literacy outcomes. The relatability of the content increases motivation, while the layered narratives encourage boys to interpret symbolism, character development, and thematic complexity. With the right texts, educators can foster not only stronger readers, but more thoughtful, empathetic young men.

How Students Socially Learn from Narrative Fiction

Recent research by Gasser, Dammert, and Murphy (2022) offers a compelling framework for understanding how children socially learn from narrative fiction. Their integrative review identifies three distinct mechanisms:

Getting the Lesson – where children extract and internalise explicit moral messages from the text.
Simulating Social Worlds – where readers imaginatively engage with fictional characters, enhancing empathy and perspective-taking.
Dialogic Inquiry – where students develop social reasoning through peer dialogue about complex sociomoral issues raised in fiction.

This framework is particularly relevant for educators designing literature programmes that go beyond comprehension and into the realm of ethical inquiry and emotional intelligence. It supports the use of coming-of-age novels as tools for cultivating sociomoral competencies in the classroom.

Key Texts – Australian Coming of Age stories for Boys

Australian literature offers a rich and diverse array of coming-of-age narratives that speak directly to local contexts, landscapes, and cultural tensions. There are wide range of novels that can be utilised effectively in the classroom, however, these texts are particularly valuable for fostering national literary literacy and connecting students with stories that reflect their own communities.

Jasper Jones by Craig Silvey
Boy Swallows Universe by Trent Dalton
I am not really here by Gary Lonesborough
Rowan of Rin by Emily Rodda
Breath by Tim Winton
The first third by Will Kostakis
Scartown by Tristan Bancks
The Sidekicks by Will Kostakis
Ready when you are by Gary Lonesborough

Key Texts: Classic Coming-of-Age Novels

These canonical works have shaped the genre and continue to offer profound insights into the human condition. They are ideal for comparative studies and historical context.

David Copperfield by Charles Dickens
The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton.

Key Texts: Modern Coming-of-Age Novels

Contemporary novels reflect the evolving challenges faced by today’s youth, including cultural identity, mental health, activism, and global conflict. These texts are especially relevant for engaging students in current social discourse.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas
Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi
Darius the Great Is Not Okay by Adib Khorram

Reference List (APA 7)

Biscontini, T. (2024). Coming of age in literature. https://www.ebsco.com/research-starters/literature-and-writing/coming-age-literature

Federation of Egalitarian Communities. (2024). What do coming-of-age novels teach us? https://www.thefec.org/news/what-do-coming-of-age-novels-teach-us/835/

Gasser, L., Dammert, Y., & Murphy, P. K. (2022). How do children socially learn from narrative fiction: Getting the lesson, simulating social worlds, or dialogic inquiry? Educational Psychology Review, 34(3), 1445–1475. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10648-022-09667-4

Sun, X. (2024). Teaching young adult literature in secondary L2 classrooms: A case study of The Outsiders reading programme. The Language Learning Journal, 52(3), 233–254. https://doi.org/10.1080/09571736.2022.2107694

The Greatest Books. (2025). The greatest coming-of-age books from 2020 to 2025. https://thegreatestbooks.org/the-greatest/coming-of-age/books/from/2020/to/2025

Book Review – Wednesday

If Wednesday Addams were to write her own memoir, it’d probably look a lot like Wednesday: A Novelisation of Season One. This isn’t just a book—it’s a moody, macabre mirror held up to the Netflix series, with all the gothic charm and deadpan sass you’d expect. Written by Tehlor Kay Mejia, the novel dives headfirst into Wednesday’s psyche, offering a peek behind the curtain of her stoic facade. Think of it as the show’s inner monologue, scribbled in black ink and sealed with disdain.

Published in 2024, the plot follows Wednesday’s arrival at Nevermore Academy, a school for supernatural misfits where murder mysteries are part of the curriculum and socialising is a punishable offence. While the series gave us brooding cello solos and a wardrobe that screams “funeral chic,” the book lets us crawl inside Wednesday’s mind—where sarcasm is a survival skill and feelings are best left buried. Mejia nails the tone, balancing Wednesday’s razor-sharp wit with moments of reluctant vulnerability that feel oddly touching (but SHUSHH don’t tell her that).

One of the novel’s most delicious contrasts—and let’s be honest, Wednesday thrives on contrast—is the infamous dorm room split between her and Enid Sinclair. On one side: a monochrome mausoleum of black, grey, and gloom, where even the shadows look depressed. On the other: a rainbow explosion that looks like a unicorn sneezed on a Lisa Frank catalogue. It’s less “cohabiting” and more “cold war with glitter.” The book leans into this absurdity with Wednesday’s internal commentary, which is equal parts horror and reluctant fascination. Sharing a room with Enid is like bunking with a disco ball that talks. Their room becomes a battleground of personality—and somehow, a crucible for growth. It’s eerily reminiscent of Elphaba and Galinda’s dorm at Shiz University in Wicked: one half brooding misfit, the other half pastel chaos, and somehow, against all odds (and taste), it works.

Now, let’s be honest: like most movie tie-ins, this novelisation is fairly true to the source material but ultimately feels like a watered-down echo of the show. It’s a weak parody in places—more shadow than substance. An OK read, sure, but clearly aimed at teens and readers who don’t mind their books light on literary weight. Basically, it’s all frosting and no cake: sweet, stylish, and fun to look at, but don’t expect it to nourish your soul or challenge your brain.

In short, if you loved the series but wished Wednesday would open up just a smidge (begrudgingly, of course), this book is your poison. It’s witty, weird, and wonderfully introspective—like a love letter written in invisible ink and sealed with a spider. Just don’t expect hugs. She’s still Wednesday, after all.