As a children’s author, I often visit schools for one-off writing workshops or small residencies but rarely do I have the opportunity to work with students over a longer period. It’s expensive to host an artist, and extended projects can disrupt timetables and regular teaching, so they need to be thoroughly integrated.
The undertaking of a more comprehensive project is not just beneficial to students. It also shapes the artist.
I always enter the planning stage with expectations and assumptions, and within a week they are dismantled. And, as corny as it sounds, as much as I can teach the students, I always come away feeling that they have taught me much more.
This year I’ve spent two months teaching memoir writing to students in years 3 to 6. The project is funded by Creative Victoria and is one of many that run annually across the state. Each project sees the pairing of an artist with a school community and together they design an approach to teach students how to express themselves using a particular art form.
I came late to writing memoir and, at first, I found it difficult to write about myself. I worried about being seen as arrogant or undeserving. I had people question what I’d done to warrant publishing a book about my life and, initially, I agreed with them. But as I read more published memoirs I began to understand that the form isn’t only a domain for the famous. We all have life stories, we just need to learn how to tell them. It took time to find the confidence to share my experiences but now I find it freeing in a way that writing fiction isn’t always for me. I think students often feel the same.
Even without fully developed writing skills, writing your story is accessible. For young people, who often struggle with coming up with an idea or knowing how to start or finish, that can be liberating. They have lived the story, now they just have to work out how to write it. And primary students don’t second-guess themselves when they write. They admit to fears on the page. They talk about emotions. About love. They don’t worry about being judged. They just wade straight in. Regardless of their writing ability, that is a powerful thing.
This project was designed as a way to talk about journeys, because many of the students at the school in Melbourne’s outer north have come from other places. But one of the things I love most about working with young people is that, when they take ownership of a project, they make it theirs. And instead of writing about their journeys, many decided to write about moments in their lives that mattered more. A beloved grandfather’s funeral, a family trip to eat halal snack pack, feeling torn between two countries and not knowing where you belong, a fire in a couch started by a younger brother, a declaration of friendship for a student in another class and theme park rollercoasters. So many rollercoasters.
Last term we published a book of short memoirs written by the 60 students in the two older grades. We had a launch with snacks and readings, and speeches from the local MP and the principal. To make the event inclusive, a teacher recorded every student reading their memoir then embedded the recordings with QR codes so they could be listened to.
We took the project seriously. We gave a voice to kids who don’t always expect to be heard. And we celebrated all of them.
At the launch the students clutched their copies of the book and hunted for their names. Then they began to read each other’s work, and share in each other’s stories, and perhaps learning something about someone else that they didn’t know before. The project isn’t assessed and it’s not a curriculum task. It’s about self-expression and learning the value of sharing your story.
I believe we all need to experience that. No matter how old we are.
• Nova Weetman is an award-winning children’s author. Her memoir, Love, Death & Other Scenes, is published by UQP
