Favourite Orientation Activity: Fact or Fiction

Easy to prepare, easy to conduct, easy high engagement -- this quickly became one of my favourite activities for getting children (or adults) to know one another better. 

Bonus if you're conducting this for your school's library club - this is an easy reinforcement activity for the definition of 'fiction'.

So what is this activity about?

Basically, on a slip of paper, each participant writes two pieces of facts and one piece of fiction about themselves [a.k.a. two truths and one lie]. Like so:

Once ready, participants can then move around getting someone else to guess which are the facts, and which is fictional. 

Easy, right?

If you are working with a group that requires minimal guidance, you could just get them to scribble on blank pages (Remember to use recycled ones if possible!) after issuing verbal instructions — ZERO preparation required!

If you are working with younger children, participants of any other ages who may require more guidance, or if you simply want to appear better prepared, then consider creating a printable A4 template like this:

I recommend using Microsoft Word for it, and would suggest that you maximize and organize the entire printable space by using the 'table' function. Also, you should either leave a nice space on the top of each strip for participants to write their own names on top, or type in the participants' names prior to printing the strips out as an bonus 'nice touch'. 

Another bonus 'touch' that you could consider adding is a template that would allow the participants to track whether they have completed the activity with everyone in the group. 

This is particularly useful when you are working with large groups, or with participants who are unfamiliar with one another. 

Alternatively, you have all these 'nice touches' and still save yourself half the work by purchasing this activity template here at only $1.50 USD:  

https://www.teacherspayteachers.com/Product/Orientation-Fact-or-Fiction-6416233

This is a downloadable product in which you will receive a zipped folder containing the following documents:
1) Editable version ready for 40 participants (+2 extras)
2) Same editable version that also allows for tracking.
3) A PDF containing just 1 blank template, 1 sample, and 1 page of notes/implementation tips; an easy-to-handle print-copy-and-run document.
4) The same PDF but with a tracking page.
5) The Word document for the easy-to-handle and trackable PDF.

With all possible PDF and Word versions included, you will have the options to:
a) Label each activity slip for up to 42 participants - because 40 is how we roll in a typical Singaporean classroom.
b) Allow participants to track who they have 'met' during the activity.

The product also includes a full set of instructions and tips for the preparation phase, suggested classroom instructions for carrying out the activity, and other tips and notes for maximizing the possible 'returns' of this apparently simple, but potentially very rewarding activity. 

I hope that you have fun with it. 
Drop me a comment to share your favourite orientation activities!

Five Affordable Chinese Children Resources [GEMS! 💎] Found in Du Yi Bookstore

I'd first visited one of Du Yi's Bookstores years ago, and had left only with the impression that it was a good place to source for affordable stationery and gifts for my students. A quick search online reveals that most people feel the same — the store has a single 2-star review on Yelp (See: https://www.yelp.com/biz/du-yi-book-shop-singapore-2) about the pens someone had bought there at less than a dollar each; and out of the eleven reviews on The Smart Local (https://thesmartlocal.com/reviews/singapore/shop/shopping-retail/books-stationary-comics/du-yi-bookshop/) from 2012 to 2013, eight mentioned something positive about the range of cheap stationery available there. Their own Squarespace site seemed to have been last updated in 2015, did not feature the new store in PLQ and still indicated that they could be found in Bedok Point, Hillion Mall and Westmall [that's no longer true]. 

So no, their online presence does not come across as promising.

Nevertheless, I recently chanced upon another outlet at Paya Lebar Quarter (a.k.a. PLQ Mall), and with the lenses of a (relatively) new aunt to a nearly 18-month old child, suddenly, I now saw the store in a brand new light. 

Who could have imagined that such an unassuming looking, relatively unknown little store would leave me impressed? Here’s what I’d left with:

1) Vocabulary Word Cards

If you are a caregiver or a teacher of young children, you might have realized by now that it is incredibly difficult to find word cards that feature authentic pictures. Children's books and resources are are too often filled with illustrations or (worse still) anthropomorphic food and animals. So it was a delight to discover that Du Yi Bookstore had a range of word cards and vocabulary books that featured authentic pictures.   

Since le' little niece has been learning to recognize the various fruits and vegetables in her diet, I simply could not pass up this beautifully created set of double-sided, full-glossy coloured, water-resistant vocabulary cards that cost just $4.90. 

The bookstore also had a range of similarly beautifully crafted English vocabulary resources that feature authentic images - leave a comment if you'd like me to discuss them as well!

2) Basic Vocabulary Book

This was purchased as part of a '4 for $10' deal — given (again) the authentic images, and good quality printing, wouldn't you agree that it is quite a steal? 

3) Picture books with Hànyǔ Pīnyīn - 'cos us adults need all the help we can get, ya?

These books made up half of my '4 for $10' deal, and made me a very happy girl that day. 

4) Series for Teaching Simple Life Skills

The last of my '4 for $10' deal — my only gripe is that the illustrations inside did not live up to the expectations formed by the super adorable cover. Each book features two short stories that fit the theme, and after a quick browse through the others in the series, I'd concluded that all of them contained equally (slightly) disappointing illustrations but very well crafted stories. 

5) Mini Fairy Tales

Each metal ring binds ten palm-sized booklets together; each set costs $3.90.

Yes. It's $3.90 for TEN decently printed booklets, many of which contained more than one short fairy tale. And no, the stories are not riddled with nonsensical plots or errors. 

Just one set would probably have been enough to occupy many, many sessions of reading aloud, but this aunt thrives on being extra. 

The Gruffalo: My All-Time Favourite Book for Struggling Young Readers

The first time I’d read this was in 2015. Even though I was reading it aloud for the very first time, it was so easy to pick up the rhythm and ‘music’ within those words that I’d very quickly fallen into a fixed ‘melody’ that has since remained mostly unchanged – and I have almost certainly read it aloud more than a hundred times to date.

The almost song-like quality of the rhymes crafted by Julia Donaldson is beautiful, and so easy for any young children to pick up. My students had loved it [I was teaching Primary 3; the Gruffalo remains one of the texts featured in MOE’s STELLAR syllables], even the ones who had struggled with reading. But it was only in 2016 that that the book truly demonstrated its magic.

That year, I was working with a Primary 3 class again. Only this time, the class had numerous students who were also struggling badly with dyslexia. Two of those students [let’s call them X and Y] were having a particularly difficult time and, compounded with their struggles with self-esteem (naturally), were mostly reluctant to even attempt to read simple stories.

Who could blame them, really? The very easy stories, by virtue of, well, being very easy, are generally also very boring and thus not worth the effort put in by someone already struggling to even decode the simplest words on the pages. And having been labelled as ‘very easy’, it is only doubly depressing when one cannot read them easily.

‘The Gruffalo’ is not an easy book. It contains pretty big words like ‘frightfully’, ‘knobbly’ and ‘poisonous’. It is also not boring. Despite the length, and apparent tedium of repetitive rhythm and plot patterns, we had so much fun going wild with the reading aloud — giving different ‘voices’ to the different characters, using suitable pitches and tones to match the emotions being conveyed at each point. The kids LOVED it. By the end of the term, they were able to read the book aloud like a synchronised dramatic choir, and I’d transcribed the text into Readers’ Theatre scripts for mini performances.

And the highlight of my year was witnessing X and Y standing around a copy of ‘The Gruffalo’ and reciting their favourite parts, complete with dramatic movements and gestures, while waiting for their after-school remedial lesson to start.

Mind you, I am writing this in 2021, so this probably qualifies as one of the highlights of my career.

Of course, it could be argued that the strong rhymes and melody of a story allow struggling readers to rely on their auditory memory of the text and get away with not actually ‘reading’.

However, the point is that through the book, through the children’s enjoyment of the story, a door was opened – this book has given them pleasure never before associated to reading; the story is not only fun and interesting, the melodic and repetitive structures make it easy to pick up and commit to memory; it whispers to them that the words within could be within their reach, and could be well-worth their effort. It gives them the temptation to give reading, and themselves, another chance.

And this door is everything.

Struggling readers may rely on their memory of how the text ‘sounds’ to recall most of the story, but through that, they could also be guided to pay more attention to some of the words and be encouraged to actually read them. Hinging on their auditory memory, a struggling reader can then experience success in visually recognising and reading many of the words printed in the book.

For instance, the word ‘where’ appears six times in the book, ‘walked’ appears four times, ‘has’ five times, and ‘his’ seventeen times. The text can be also extracted and made into various word identification and vocabulary activities that simply pave the way for struggling readers to pick up and retain more Sight Words.

Then one can extend the interest ignited by ‘The Gruffalo’ with its sequel, ‘The Gruffalo’s Child’. After which, a struggling reader could probably be convinced to give the rest of Julia Donaldson’s picture books a chance.

‘The Gruffalo’s Child’, by the way, is an equally beautifully crafted story, and although I find that it is not as strong in its rhymes and melody and thus not as effective for whole-class reading aloud, it is less repetitively tedious and therefore a better personal favourite for when I read aloud to my toddler niece. The other books are just as wonderful, many of which containing the strong rhymes and delightful humour in Julia Donaldson’s signature style.

But I digress. The point here is that ‘The Gruffalo’ has proven to be the strongest contender over the years in lowering a struggling reader’s resistance to reading. And I simply cannot sing enough praises about the quality of the text and how rich it is in terms of learning possibilities.

So if you find yourself working with a struggling young reader, do give this book a chance.

Check out its availability at NLB (Singapore) here –
https://catalogue.nlb.gov.sg/cgi-bin/spydus.exe/ENQ/WPAC/BIBENQ?SETLVL=&BRN=11386322
 
or just get the paperback copy here –
https://www.bookdepository.com/Gruffalo-Julia-Donaldson/9781509804757?ref=grid-view&qid=1620035112242&sr=1-25 (non-affiliate)
 
Feel free to ask me questions about the book, or share your experience with it.
Stay well, stay safe. Hope to see you well around the corner. (:

A Bittersweet Goodbye, Enid Blyton

It seems oddly suitable that the start of this online journey is marked by the end of my nearly lifelong love for the author who'd also marked the start of my love affair with fiction. 

I have not retained a lot of memories from my childhood, but I have always been very clear about the almost chronological occupation of Enid Blyton throughout my primary school years - the hardcover short stories and Secret Seven series in Primary 1 and 2, the Adventure and Secret series in Primary 2 and 3, the Famous Five, Find-Outers and Malory Towers series in Primary 4 and 5. 

Most notably, though I can no longer recall when I'd first read that book, I can never forget the sheer pleasure 'The Secret Island' had given me — it'd filled my head with the most delicious fantasies… of willow houses, wild strawberries and fresh cream. I'd loved it so very, very much.

So much so that I'd reached for it unhesitatingly when choosing something new to read aloud to my class the first year I'd taught Primary 3. I had a class of not-quite-nine-year-old students who struggled academically with English. By then, I had already experienced the magic of reading aloud with my Primary 1 classes with Roald Dahl and various other authors, and fully expected the journey with Enid Blyton to be no less magical, if not more — seriously, an enchanting adventure involving setting up a cosy home-like space on an island, with freshwater all around, under the stars, no adults, a cow for fresh milk and hens for eggs; children disenfranchised but empowered by their own wits and strength… what could possibly go wrong with this selection?

The higher the expectations, right?

For days, I could sense that something was off, but could not quite put a finger on it. It was in the air, the atmosphere – the children were attentive, and quick checks revealed that they enjoyed the story and wanted to continue reading it, but somehow the classroom energy remained palpably low during the readings, draggy even. I’d doubled down on my energy, adding short commentaries to create a better picture of a scene in the children’s minds, sandwiching the readings with anticipatory enthusiasm of what was coming next. Yet the low energy persisted – in a classroom made up of 65% boys practically buzzing with pent-up energy.

Actually, that might have been a good thing.

I’d formed some inkling of the various factors contributing to this oddly persistent phenomenon over numerous bouts of reflection about the book, but it really took me years to organize these vague sentiments into semi-coherent thoughts.

The first key factor was the language – there is something formal and ‘prim’ about the way the narrative and the dialogues were written. Much of what had enchanted me as a child failed to weave the same magic around the children I was reading to. Her words painted such beautiful images in my head, but did not do the same in theirs, even with my elaborations, guidance and prompts.

I’ve since realised that Blyton’s magic worked so well on me only because by the time I’d arrived at Secret Island, I had already developed a sufficiently avid imagination of a voracious reader. So even when I could not understand descriptions like ‘There were willows, alders, hazels, and elderberries at first, and then as they went up the hill that lay behind the cove there were silver birches and oaks,’ my mind had happily identified the unknown words as different trees or possibly plants, and conjured up suitably magical images for them, and conveniently filled in the rest of the scene at the same time. I had little problems picturing myself sleeping in a ‘heathery bedroom’, building a dreamy little ‘willow house’, or drawing water from a clear, bubbly spring.

But without the seasoned imagination of a mind well-acquainted with English literature, what prior associations could the city-dwelling children of modern Singapore latch on to weave the images that could be drawn up by Blyton’s words?

A simple way to put it, I suppose, was that there is a little too much ‘telling’ and much too little ‘showing’ in Blyton’s writing. The language was simply not one that induces the most fantastical images with the simplest words – and while this makes the book no less magical, it does make the magic a lot less accessible.

The language was also not one that induces easy laughter – even the parts that were meant to be funny. For instance:

“And there goes a grand piano tumbling down the stairs!” said Mike, at another heavy rumble. Everyone laughed. Really, the thunderstorm did sound exactly like furniture being thrown about.

This would probably draw out a smile on many of our faces. But would it trigger a bout of laughter, send a large hit of happy chemicals into our brains and create another memory that permanently associates reading with pleasure? Very unlikely.
And with so many other authors to explore with my students, so many whose stories contained little to no barrier to the magic woven by their worlds, ‘Secret Island’ marked the start and the end of my use of Blyton’s books for reading aloud with my classes.
Yet this farewell letter seems too much of a response to as mundane an observation about a single book by Enid Blyton.

Well, there is a second factor, of course.

I have, over the years, picked up news about the discussions surrounding Enid Blyton’s books. I have taken note of them, but have not been overly concerned about my students reading her books. I remember strongly the great pleasure I’ve experienced with them as a child, and thought it harmless for children to have a little peek into some worlds that are vastly different from theirs. Given what I’d understood about her language style and the barrier it presents to my students, I’d stopped recommending Enid Blyton directly (there are so many other brilliant authors to fill such conversations with), but I’ve never been one to stop a child from reading anything they have an interest in — as long as they are reading, right?

Then I picked up another Enid Blyton. I’d decided on a whim to read one that I happened to have on hand, ‘Five Go off in a Caravan’. Oh, it wasn’t too bad.

In her typical style, Blyton allowed me to escape reality and join the children on their little holiday, in luxurious, fully-equipped, spotlessly clean caravans parked in the most enchanting spot with the most marvellous view of an easily-accessible-perfect-for-swimming lake, complete with effortlessly prepared picnics of wild raspberries and cream, fresh milk and butter, ham, scones and ginger cakes.

The magic has simply, I suppose, been broken. I could still enjoy the book, quite easily; just sit back and let its magic sweep over me. Yet, there were just little things that simply seemed… off. Bits that just gave me pause and wonder – was it really a book that I would read to my niece? (She was one year old then, but I’d already started on ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and ‘Harry Potter’.)

Again, I’m unlikely going to stop my niece from reading Enid Blyton’s books herself, but I don’t think I shall be the one introducing her to a world where the main heroes tend to be characterized as ‘posh’, infinitely sensible and well-mannered; where girls are frequently associated to a stereotyped set of desirable behaviour and suitable interests (even if George is allowed to continue resisting them admirably, there undeniable undertones that imply that her behaviour is less); where a ‘less posh’ friend is described as ‘eating more sandwiches than anyone and talking all the time with his mouth full’.

There were just so many bits and pieces that simply did not sit right with me.

Even as I scanned ‘Secret Island’ again just to write this up, sentences like this jumped right out at me:

Jack was always dressed in raggedy things, but the children didn’t mind. 

Well, should they have minded the state of his clothes? Why should they have minded it? Does the state of his clothes mark him as inferior? Is it a mark of their character that they did not mind it, thus also placing them as superior?

Why attach that clause at all? The sentence would have worked perfectly as ‘Jack was always dressed in raggedy things.’ Then it would have been left to the readers to decide what to make of him, or of them.

In any case, I have concluded that as much as I shall remain thankful for the magic Enid Blyton had woven into my childhood, it shall remain as such – just fond memories. Nothing can take away the happy associations I’ve made through her books, but I don’t think that visiting them again could bring up the same happy feelings. Nor would I be introducing her to any other children who come my way.

And with so many other authors to work through with my little niece, there is quite a chance that she’ll never find time for Blyton too.

So thank you, Enid Blyton. And goodbye.