As the school year wrapped up last week, I found myself reflecting on the many moments that shaped our library community in 2025. There have been challenges, yes, but also plenty of reasons to celebrate.
One of the brightest sparks has been our book clubs. What started as a simple idea, a few snacks and a chance to talk about stories, has grown into something much bigger. My secondary Book Club stands out. At the beginning of the year they were a small group, some unsure of what to read, others firmly attached to their favourite genres. Over time, though, their borrowing soared. They began exploring fantasy, contemporary fiction and graphic novels, and while one dedicated manga reader still resists branching out, the group as a whole has broadened its horizons. More importantly, they began to see reading as part of who they are. They recommend titles to each other, debate endings, and even suggest new books for the library. Watching that transformation has been a joy.
Research reminds us that this is exactly what book clubs are meant to do. They make reading social, they build confidence, and they help young people see themselves as readers. The secondary Book Club Boys proved that in the most authentic way, showing how a community of peers can turn reading from a solitary task into something shared and celebrated.
From a whole school review, borrowing levels across the school have also risen, returning to pre COVID rates. Much of this growth has come from our younger readers, whose enthusiasm has been infectious. Their excitement has created a vibrant culture of reading in the primary years, and their participation in activities has been a highlight of the year.
Of course, there are challenges we cannot ignore. Very few of our Year 10 to Year 12 students are reading recreationally, and this is concerning. Intertextuality, the ability to connect ideas across texts, is vital for analysis and for building strong cognitive connections. Without regular reading, those skills are harder to develop. We also continue to see limited engagement from Years 7 to 10 English classes, despite enthusiastic promotion. There seems to be a reluctance to lose curriculum time.
Our team dynamic has shifted too, with members coming and going. Change always brings adjustment, but it has also brought fresh perspectives and energy. We have expanded our digital resources, and while uptake has been slow, steady gains are being made as students and staff grow more comfortable with these platforms.
Perhaps the greatest success of all has been the way the library has become recognised as a social space where everyone is welcome. It is not only a place for books, but a hub for connection, collaboration and belonging. That sense of community is something we can all be proud of.
We closed the year with our Books & Bites Christmas party, a joyful celebration of new releases and Christmas treats. Each student received a reading journal with a challenge to read four books over the summer, along with handmade gifts, ornaments, bookmarks, and pen holders, sewn over the past few weeks. These tokens were a way of honouring the shared love of reading that binds us together.
As we finish the 2025 chapter, I am reminded that reading is not just about borrowing books, it is about building minds, fostering empathy and preparing students for the complexities of the world.
“As we finish this chapter and look ahead to the new year, I am reminded that Christmas is a season not only of rejoicing, but of reflection. May the joy of stories, the warmth of community, and the promise of new beginnings carry us into the year ahead.”
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.
This week’s book haul – mine.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Potential reads
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.
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
In every corner of a school library, stories wait to be discovered. Stories that open minds, build empathy, and reflect the rich tapestry of human experience. But what happens when those stories are missing? When shelves lack the voices of different cultures, identities, and lived experiences?
As an educator and lifelong reader, I’ve come to believe that diverse books aren’t just nice to have in a collection. But rather, that they’re essential. They shape how students see themselves and others, and they help build inclusive communities where every child feels seen and valued.
Representation Matters
Research consistently shows that representation in literature has a profound impact on students’ self-esteem, academic engagement, and social development. When children see characters who look like them, speak their language, or share their cultural background, they feel validated. And when they read about lives different from their own, they develop empathy and understanding.
A study by the Cooperative Children’s Book Center found that in 2022, only 33% of children’s books featured characters from diverse backgrounds.
According to the Australian Institute for Teaching and School Leadership, inclusive education improves student outcomes and fosters respect among peers.
The “Windows, Mirrors, and Sliding Glass Doors” framework by Dr. Rudine Sims Bishop emphasizes how books can reflect our own lives, offer insight into others’, and invite us into new worlds.
Growing up as a teen in Australia, I rarely saw characters in books who looked like me or came from my cultural background. It wasn’t until university that I encountered authors who spoke to my experience, and it was transformative. That moment of recognition made me realize how powerful literature can be in shaping identity and belonging.
One of the most vivid memories I have of feeling truly represented was during a recent trip to Mumbai. I walked into a bookstore and saw the latest issue of India Vogue. I was drawn to it because the cover featured models who looked like me, wore traditional fabrics with pride, and radiated a beauty that felt familiar. I stood there, overwhelmed. For the first time, I saw my heritage celebrated in a way that was bold, glamorous, and unapologetically authentic. That moment reminded me how powerful visibility can be, not just in fashion, but in every form of storytelling.
Now, as a teacher, I’m committed to curating a library space that reflects the diversity of our world. I’ve seen firsthand how students light up when they find a book that resonates with them. As one Year 9 student told me earlier this year when I handed him The White Tiger by Arvind Adiga, “This book feels like it was written for me.” That’s the magic we should strive for.
🏫 What should Teacher Librarians do?
To ensure every student has access to diverse stories, Teacher Librarians and schools must:
Regularly audit their library collections for representation across race, gender, ability, and culture.
Partner with local communities and authors to source authentic voices.
Provide professional development for educators on inclusive literature.
Encourage student-led book clubs and reading initiatives that celebrate diversity.
💬 Final Thoughts
Diverse books aren’t just about ticking boxes, they’re about opening hearts and minds. They help students navigate the world with compassion, curiosity, and confidence. When we fill our shelves with stories that reflect the full spectrum of human experience, we send a powerful message: You belong here. Your story matters.
Let’s go beyond the bookshelf—and make every library a gateway to understanding.
Life is made up of three parts: in The First Third, you’re embarrassed by your family; in the second, you make a family of your own; and in the end, you just embarrass the family you’ve made.
The First Third by Will Kostakis.
This year’s Grandparents’ Day hit differently. I now have only one of my four grandparents still with me. I was lucky—lucky to have strong, vivid memories of each of them, and even luckier that my children got to spend time with their great-grandparents. That kind of generational overlap feels rare and sacred, like a living bridge between past and present. And somehow, all of this came rushing back when I remembered reading The First Third by Will Kostakis—a book that, like a well-wrapped souvlaki, is stuffed with heart, humour, and a generous helping of cultural chaos.
It reminded me strongly of my maternal grandmother. A force to be reckoned with. Even now, in her wheelchair, she manages to orchestrate family life like a seasoned general—issuing orders with a raised eyebrow, summoning grandchildren with a single beckoning finger, and somehow getting everyone to do her bidding without ever raising her voice. Her presence is magnetic, her will unshakable, and her love—though sometimes disguised as criticism—is the glue that holds generations together.
📖 The First Third: A Souvlaki of Feels
Will Kostakis’ The First Third is a YA gem that manages to be hilarious, heartfelt, and culturally rich without ever feeling preachy. It follows Billy Tsiolkas, a Greek-Australian teen whose grandmother hands him a “bucket list” of family fixes to complete before she dies. No pressure, right?
Billy’s voice is sharp, self-deprecating, and painfully relatable. He’s caught between being a good grandson and a confused teenager, between Greek traditions and Aussie adolescence. The book is a masterclass in balancing humor with emotional depth—like when you laugh so hard you forget you’re crying.
Why It Resonates:
The family dynamics are loud, loving, and layered—just like mine.
The cultural identity struggle is real: trying to be two things at once and feeling like you’re failing at both.
The grandmother character is the emotional anchor, reminding us that love often comes wrapped in unsolicited advice and home-cooked meals.
👵 My Grandmother: The Matriarch in Motion
Reading Billy’s story brought back some very vivid memories of my own grandmother. My Nana didn’t hand me a bucket list, but she did hand me wisdom—sometimes in words, sometimes in silence, mostly in food. And she did it all with the commanding presence of someone who never needed to stand to be heard.
She’s the kind of woman who could host a feast, direct the seating arrangement, critique the seasoning, and still find time to remind you that your shirt needs ironing. Her strength isn’t just physical—it’s woven into the fabric of our family.
🌍 A Migration of Love
Unlike many who migrated in their youth, my grandmother moved overseas in her seventies. She gave up everything and everyone she knew—her home, her lifelong friends, her familiar rhythms—so she could continue supporting her children and grandchildren. It wasn’t a move for opportunity or adventure. It was a move for love.
What She Gave Up—and What She Gave Us:
Her homeland: Leaving behind the place where she’d spent most of her life.
Her community: Saying goodbye to friends she’d known for decades.
Her independence: Adapting to a new country, new customs, and a new pace of life.
And yet, she never stopped giving. She offered good advice (whether you asked for it or not), gentle admonishments (often not so gentle), and an abundance of love. Her presence became the emotional compass of our family—steady, wise, and always just a little bit intimidating.
She didn’t just migrate; she transformed our home into a sanctuary of tradition, resilience, and unconditional care.
💌 A Tribute Across Pages and Generations
The First Third isn’t just a book—it’s a tribute. To grandmothers who held families together with their bare hands. To those who sacrificed comfort for connection. To the messy, beautiful process of growing up between cultures and generations.
So this Grandparents’ Day, I’m not just remembering my grandmother—I’m honouring her. Through stories, through laughter, through the parts of her that live on in me.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the final third: carrying forward the love that built us.
Learning through the Library 