writing – Learning through the Library

Golden tickets – Connecting Curriculum and Curiosity.

One of the great joys of working in a school library is watching a story spill beyond the pages of a book and into the wider learning experiences of students. This week, our library celebrated Roald Dahl Week, marking both Roald Dahl Day and the fact that our Year 7 students have recently completed Boy as their class novel.

I have written previously about the enduring appeal of Roald Dahl and the remarkable ways his stories connect with young readers. What continues to fascinate me is that, decades after publication, his books still possess the power to spark curiosity, laughter, discussion and further reading. While our Year 7 students had already explored Dahl’s life through Boy, this celebratory week provided an opportunity to approach his work from a different angle. Rather than analysing a text for assessment, students were invited to simply enjoy the worlds, characters and imagination that have made Dahl such a significant figure in children’s literature.

And enjoy it they did.

The week was filled with colourful book displays, activities and conversations. My library team embraced the occasion with enthusiasm. We welcomed a flotilla of Matildas, spotted two Fantastic Mr Fox(es), and I returned as my alter ego, Miss Trunchbull. The laughter and excitement generated by these simple acts of participation reminded me that reading cultures are built not only through books, but through shared experiences and visible enthusiasm from the adults around us.

One of the highlights of the past two weeks was our Golden Ticket promotion. Any student who borrowed a book were entered into a draw to win a Roald Dahl cinematic experience at lunchtime (popcorn included). What began as a simple reading incentive quickly became a source of excitement. The response from our primary boys was particularly heartening. Many still remembered reading Matilda as their class novel and eagerly revisited Dahl’s work, often recommending favourite titles to friends.

Watching students connect with an author after studying a text reminded me that the impact of classroom literature can extend far beyond assessment. When schools create opportunities for students to revisit and celebrate stories they have loved, reading becomes part of their identity rather than simply another curriculum requirement. This observation is supported by research that suggests school library displays and reading promotions increase students’ engagement with books and improve resource discovery, helping young people connect with texts they may not have otherwise chosen (Rodgers, 2018).

What was most pleasing, however, was what happened beyond the costumes, displays and celebrations. Students began borrowing other Roald Dahl novels. They sought out books with similar humour and adventure. Some investigated Dahl’s life further, while others became curious about the Second World War and the fighter pilots that influenced his writing. A class novel had become a springboard into recreational reading, historical inquiry and independent learning.

This is where school libraries occupy a unique space within a school. We sit at the intersection of curriculum and curiosity. While classroom learning provides the foundation, libraries help students make connections, pursue interests and explore questions that arise from their reading. A well-timed display, a themed celebration or a casual book recommendation can transform a curriculum text from a completed assessment into the beginning of a much larger learning journey.

Research has consistently shown that school libraries contribute to student learning when they connect learners with relevant resources, foster inquiry and encourage engagement beyond the classroom (Lance & Kachel, 2018). What might appear to be a simple book display is often something much more significant. Displays invite exploration, facilitate resource discovery and create opportunities for students to make meaningful connections between what they learn in the classroom and the wider world. In this way, library initiatives support curriculum outcomes while also nurturing curiosity and independent learning.

Roald Dahl Week was never simply about dressing up. It was about helping students see that books do not exist in isolation. Stories connect to history, culture, creativity and personal interests. They open doors to new questions and new discoveries. The enduring popularity of Matilda, the enthusiasm generated by a Golden Ticket, and the curiosity sparked by Boy all point to the same conclusion: literature remains one of the most powerful vehicles for learning.

Increasingly, research suggests that reading promotion initiatives contribute not only to academic growth but also to students’ social and emotional development (Xia, 2025). When young people encounter compelling stories, they develop empathy, broaden their perspectives and gain insight into both themselves and others. These outcomes may be difficult to measure, but they remain fundamental to education.

When libraries create opportunities for students to engage with literature in joyful and authentic ways, we support curriculum outcomes while also fostering reader identity, curiosity and a lifelong love of learning.

And surely that is one of the most important things a school library can do.

References

Lance, K. C., & Kachel, D. E. (2018). Why school librarians matter: What years of research tell us. Phi Delta Kappan, 99(7), 15–20.

Rodgers, L. (2018, July 13). Circulation surge: Want your books to fly off the shelves? Try these ideas. School Library Journal. Circulation surge

Xia, L. (2025). Research on reading promotion strategies for primary and secondary school students under the “Double Reduction” policy: A dual perspective based on cognitive development and social-emotional learning. International Journal of New Developments in Education, 7(10), 37–45.

Dolly Parton, School Libraries and the Reading Gap

In the days following Dolly Parton’s death, much of the media attention focused on her extraordinary music career. Yet among the tributes was repeated recognition of something else: her commitment to putting books into the hands of children.

Through Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library, millions of free books have been distributed to children around the world. For many commentators, this initiative represented one of her most significant philanthropic achievements. While others celebrated her songs, educators, librarians and literacy advocates celebrated her understanding of a simple truth: access to books matters.

Recent research suggests she was right.

Galea et al. (2026), examining the impact of Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library across 86,000 families worldwide, found measurable improvements in children’s emergent literacy skills after receiving books through the program. Remarkably, benefits were evident after children received as few as ten books. The researchers also calculated that in Australia every $100 invested in the program generates approximately $990 in social and economic returns through future earnings and welfare savings.

This is almost a ten-fold benefit … At a time when educators continue to grapple with falling literacy outcomes, these findings feel particularly significant.

Shortly after reading about the impact of the Imagination Library, I found myself reflecting on Helen Adam’s recent article, NAPLAN: We know how to close the reading gap. We must fund it now. Adam argues that while explicit instruction remains essential, it has never been the only solution to literacy challenges. After decades of literacy reforms, interventions and increasingly sophisticated approaches to reading instruction, achievement gaps continue to widen, particularly for disadvantaged students.

Few would argue against the importance of explicit instruction. Children need systematic teaching in phonics, fluency, vocabulary and comprehension. The evidence is overwhelming. Learning to read is not something most children simply absorb through exposure alone.

However, the more I reflected on both Adam’s article and the work of the Imagination Library, the more I was reminded that teaching children how to read is only part of the challenge.

The question we often overlook is whether children have enough to read once we have taught them.

Adam identifies two consistently underfunded aspects of children’s literacy environments. The first is genuine opportunity to read. Books in the home. School libraries. Access to diverse collections. Time during the school day to read for pleasure. These factors sit alongside quality instruction, not instead of it.

This is where school libraries become central to any meaningful conversation about whole-school literacy.

Libraries are often viewed as an enhancement to literacy programs rather than essential literacy infrastructure. Yet the evidence increasingly suggests otherwise. If Dolly Parton’s work demonstrates anything, it is that access to books is not a luxury. It is a prerequisite for literacy development.

Reading proficiency grows through reading.

Students who have regular access to books are more likely to practise the skills they have been taught. They encounter new vocabulary. They build background knowledge. They develop fluency. Most importantly, they begin to see reading as something they choose to do rather than something done to them.

The research underpinning reading for pleasure reinforces this point. Cremin and Scholes’ (2024) international review found that children who read for pleasure generally demonstrate stronger outcomes in vocabulary, spelling, reading comprehension and even mathematics, alongside more positive attitudes towards reading. Significantly, time spent reading recreationally is associated with, and predictive of, enriched vocabularies. This matters because vocabulary remains one of the strongest predictors of reading comprehension and long-term academic success.

For schools seeking to improve literacy outcomes, the implications are profound. Whole-school literacy cannot be reduced solely to instructional approaches. Instruction teaches students how to read. Libraries create the conditions that allow those skills to grow.

Adam’s second point is equally important. Children need to see themselves reflected in what they read. Reading is not only about decoding words on a page. It is also about identity, belonging and connection. Students engage most deeply when they encounter books that reflect their experiences, interests, cultures and aspirations.

Again, this is where school libraries play a critical role.

Teacher librarians curate collections that serve as both mirrors and windows. We help students find stories that affirm who they are while also introducing them to new perspectives and experiences. Through collection development, reader advisory programs, author visits, book clubs and reading promotions, libraries help students develop not only literacy skills but reader identities.

As a profession, we have long understood something that Dolly Parton seemed to understand instinctively. Access changes outcomes.

A child who has books is more likely to become a reader. A child who becomes a reader is more likely to develop the vocabulary, knowledge and comprehension that underpin academic success. A child who can find themselves in a book is more likely to see reading as meaningful.

This is why conversations about literacy must move beyond instruction alone.

Explicit teaching remains critical. But if we genuinely want to close reading gaps, we must also invest in the wider conditions that support literacy success: well-resourced school libraries, qualified teacher librarians, diverse collections and opportunities for students to read for pleasure every day.

Perhaps Dolly Parton’s greatest educational legacy was not simply giving books away. It was reminding us that sometimes the most powerful literacy intervention is ensuring that a child has a book in their hands.

References

Adam, H. (2026, August 5). NAPLAN: We know how to close the reading gap. We must fund it now. EduResearch Matters. View article [blog.aare.edu.au]

Cremin, T., & Scholes, L. (2024). Reading for pleasure: Scrutinising the evidence base – benefits, tensions and recommendations. Language and Education, 38(4), 353-372. https://doi.org/10.1080/09500782.2024.2324948

Galea, C., Duursma, E., Petocz, P., McArthur, G., Robidoux, S., Beyersmann, E., & Noble, C. (2026). The impact of shared book reading on children’s emergent literacy skills: A worldwide study of Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library. Early Child Development and Care, 196(7-8), 504-522. https://doi.org/10.1080/03004430.2026.2678212

A Sound of Storytelling

As part of our Book Week celebrations and this year’s CBCA theme, A Symphony of Stories, students at my school were treated to a memorable author event, A Sound of Storytelling. The event brought together two remarkable Australian authors, Annaleise Byrd and Carla Salmon, who shared their experiences of creativity, imagination, and the transformative power of storytelling.

The idea of a symphony is a fitting metaphor for stories. Just as every instrument contributes its own unique voice to an orchestra, every story offers a different perspective, experience, and adventure. Author visits provide students with the opportunity to hear directly from the creators behind the books they read, helping them understand that stories begin with imagination, curiosity, and a willingness to explore ideas. Research consistently shows that author talks can have a powerful impact on reader engagement, inspiring students to read more widely, connect with books on a deeper level, and see themselves as potential writers and storytellers.

Annaleise Byrd opened the event with her trademark wit and wonderfully droll storytelling. Despite technical issues with laptops undergoing a forced update mid presentation, Annaleise soon had students were laughing as she invited volunteers to the stage to re-enact one of her scenes, bringing her stories vividly to life.

Annaleise shared the inspiration behind her novels Losing the Plot and Down the Plot Hole, transporting students to the magical world of Grimmveldt, or “Grimm World”. Through stories of her visit there, she demonstrated how writers draw on experiences, observations, and a healthy dose of imagination to create rich fictional worlds. Her presentation reminded students that creativity often begins by asking “what if?” and having the courage to follow an idea wherever it leads.

Carla Salmon followed with an equally engaging presentation that showcased her infectious enthusiasm for creative writing. Taking students behind the scenes of her novels, Carla revealed how authors find inspiration in the world around them. She unpacked how places, people, and events from real life can spark fictional narratives, sharing fascinating examples from her own work. Students were particularly captivated by the story of the 3,000-tonne theft of maple syrup, a real-world event that helped inspire aspects of her storytelling. Carla’s session highlighted that writers are keen observers of life, constantly collecting ideas and transforming them into stories that entertain, challenge, and inspire readers.

Annaleise and our Library Team. All dressed up for Book Week Celebrations.

Together, both authors demonstrated that storytelling is much like a symphony. Ideas, experiences, emotions, imagination, and words come together to create something greater than the sum of their parts. Their presentations reinforced the important role stories play in helping young people understand themselves and the world around them while encouraging them to think creatively and embrace their own imaginations.

20260827_1749173021592242733342772 — Carla wrapping up the evening with a photo.

As our Book Week celebrations continue, A Sound of Storytelling has been a wonderful reminder of why author events matter. They connect students with the human stories behind books, nurture a love of reading, and inspire the next generation of creators. Judging by the laughter, excitement, and thoughtful questions from our students, both Annaleise Byrd and Carla Salmon struck a powerful chord in our own Symphony of Stories.

Thank you to Annaleise and Carla for sharing their time, expertise, and passion for storytelling. Their voices have added a memorable movement to our Book Week celebrations, and their stories will undoubtedly continue to resonate with students long after the event has ended.

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.

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.

The Social Life of Books: Why Teen Readers Follow Their Friend

Reading is widely recognised as a critical skill for young people, supporting the development of strong cognition, mental health and empathy. A growing body of research consistently shows that recreational reading in particular is linked with academic achievement, improved emotional regulation and more nuanced interpersonal understanding. Building a culture of reading, therefore, is not a peripheral task for schools. It lies at the heart of nurturing thoughtful, resilient and socially capable young people.

Yet despite these well established benefits, many children and teenagers do not naturally turn to teachers or teacher librarians for book recommendations (Merga, 2012). To be blunt, young people do not necessarily see adults as cool. Recommendations from teachers, no matter how well intentioned, may lack what adolescents consider to be genuine social credibility. The street cred factor is real, and it is powerful.

This dynamic is clearly supported in contemporary research. Rutherford, Singleton, Reddan, Johanson and Dezuanni’s report Discovering a Good Read: Exploring Book Discovery and Reading for Pleasure Among Australian Teens found that teens prefer “recommendations from friends (57%)”, a finding emerging from a nationally representative survey of more than thirteen thousand Australian secondary students. These findings reinforce what many educators observe anecdotally. Reading among teens is not only an individual cognitive task but also a profoundly social practice.

Further evidence comes from the work of Dr Margaret Merga, a well respected Australian researcher in literacy and reading engagement. In a mixed methods program examining the influence of social attitudes on reading behaviours, Merga (2012) noted that “perceived friends’ attitudes can have a more significant influence on boys than girls, [therefore] making books socially acceptable for boys should be a priority for educators.” This underscores the idea that book talk among peers is not merely casual chit chat. It is a mechanism of social permission. When books gain traction within a peer group, they gain legitimacy and ethos (Merga, 2012; Merga 2014).

Australia Reads similarly emphasises the importance of social engagement in building sustainable reading habits. Its principles highlight that young people need “positive social reading experiences” and opportunities to “recommend, discuss and share books and other texts in ways that are personally enjoyable and relevant”. In other words, reading thrives when it is relational.

At Lauries, we see these principles in action every day. While staff recommendations certainly have their place, it is peer driven reading culture that most reliably sparks curiosity, especially among reluctant readers. This is why we actively encourage students to reflect on and review the books they read. Their voices matter. Their opinions shape the reading landscape for others. The broader research base supports this emphasis on social recommendation and discussion as a driver of voluntary reading.

A visible expression of this culture is our wall of Lauries Lads Lit Picks. This growing collection showcases books that our students have personally endorsed. We often see reluctant readers wandering over, flicking through the displayed reviews until they discover a familiar name. That moment of recognition is powerful. When a friend or respected peer has enjoyed a book, the barrier to entry drops dramatically. The book becomes not just a text but a shared experience waiting to happen. The pattern aligns with evidence that peer attitudes and friend recommendations play an outsized role in adolescent book choice.

Cultivating a socially rich reading environment therefore requires more than simply providing access to books. It involves elevating student voice, valuing peer influence and creating spaces where reading is openly shared, discussed and celebrated. The evidence is unequivocal. When young people are given opportunities to recommend books to one another, their engagement deepens and their confidence as readers grows. Reading becomes woven not only into their academic lives but into their friendships, identities and everyday conversations.

By continuing to champion peer driven discovery, we support our students not only to read more but to read with curiosity, connection and purpose. That is a foundation that benefits them far beyond the walls of the library

references

Australia Reads. (2025, September 23). Major new report offers 6 key principles to support young people’s recreational reading. https://australiareads.org.au/news/6-principles-support-young-people-reading/ [australiar…ads.org.au]

Crowther Centre. (n.d.). Getting young people to read. https://www.crowthercentre.org.au/resources/getting-young-people-to-read/ [crowtherce…tre.org.au]

Merga, M. K. (2014). Peer group and friend influences on the social acceptability of adolescent book reading. Journal of Adolescent & Adult Literacy, 57(6), 472–482. https://doi.org/10.1002/jaal.273 [researchgate.net], [periodicos…pes.gov.br]

Merga, M. K. (2012). Social influences on West Australian adolescents’ recreational book reading [Conference presentation]. ECU Research Week. https://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/41527861.pdf [core.ac.uk]

Rutherford, L., Singleton, A., Reddan, B., Johanson, K., & Dezuanni, M. (2024). Discovering a Good Read: Exploring Book Discovery and Reading for Pleasure Among Australian Teens. Deakin University. https://eprints.qut.edu.au/247629/ [eprints.qut.edu.au]

Historical Fiction: Her-stories are as important as His-stories.

History is often presented as a clean line of dates and deeds, with women’s voices muted or missing. Yet when I read historical fiction, I hear those voices rise. It is in the imagined conversations, the textured inner lives and the careful stitching of research to narrative that women like Eleanor of Aquitaine step out from the margins and take their rightful place at the centre of the story. Historical fiction does not replace the archive. It complements it. It gives shape to the silences and lets Her story speak.

Eleanor of Aquitaine has captivated me for years. She was queen of France, then queen of England, duchess in her own right, patron of culture and mother to kings. Even through the writings of men who often judged powerful women harshly, she still appears intelligent, beautiful, strong of will and frequently labelled as wilful. That tension between what the record says and what it leaves unsaid is exactly where historical fiction does its best work. Through fiction, we can inhabit the rooms where the clerks did not sit, hear the words no chronicler bothered to write, and feel the force of a woman who shaped her world.

Because I am fascinated by Eleanor, I have read widely across authors who approach her life from different angles over my last summer holidays. Each one balances fact and imagination to reveal a fuller portrait. In their hands, Eleanor becomes more than a figure on a timeline. She becomes a person, with agency, complexity and heart. Reading these books has reminded me again and again that history is not only his story. It is also her story, and it deserves to be heard.

Why Historical Fiction Lets Her Story Speak

Historical fiction gives us the space to ask human questions that sources do not answer. What did courage feel like to a woman whose decisions could alter a dynasty. How did she manage loyalty and love in a world that traded both for advantage. What language did she use for her ambitions, her fears and her hopes. Novelists use careful research and responsible imagination to explore these questions. They do not invent the past. They interpret it with empathy, so that readers can understand lives very different from our own.

For women, this matters deeply. The written record often reflects the priorities of men who held the pen. Fiction can step into the gaps and consider the private sphere where much of women’s labour and influence took place. It can restore friendships, mentorships, rivalries and choices that formal chronicles overlook. Reading such stories changes how we see the past. It prompts us to look again at the sources, to notice what was omitted and to seek out voices that were ignored.

This is why I keep returning to Eleanor of Aquitaine through fiction as well as history. Each book adds texture to the tapestry. Each author brings a new hue to the same thread. Together they create a portrait that feels whole. In listening to these imagined yet carefully grounded voices, we are not abandoning truth. We are widening it. We are acknowledging that history is a chorus, and that Her story deserves to sing just as clearly.

Her life reminds us that the past belongs to all of us. Reading and sharing these novels is one way to make sure that our understanding of history includes the women who shaped it. His story has been told for a long time. It is time for Her story to be heard alongside it, fully and without apology.

So if you would like to know a bit about Her-Story, here are some of the amazing authors who wrote about Eleanor:

Books by Elizabeth Chadwick featuring Eleanor of Aquitaine
The Summer Queen
The Winter Crown
The Autumn Throne

Books by Jean Plaidy featuring Eleanor of Aquitaine
The Courts of Love
Eleanor of Aquitaine: The Young Queen
Eleanor of Aquitaine: The Rebel Queen

Books by Sharon Penman featuring Eleanor of Aquitaine
When Christ and His Saints Slept
Time and Chance
Devil’s Brood
Lionheart
A King’s Ransom

Books by Alison Weir featuring Eleanor of Aquitaine
Eleanor of Aquitaine: By the Wrath of God, Queen of England (non fiction)
Captive Queen (fiction)