FATHER'S DAY....
I worked last Sunday, which happened to be father's day. It was interesting...I wondered if there would be anyone at all coming into the library. And it wasn't busy, only a few hundred people came through in those hours we were open, but it is so great to see how many fathers are coming in to the library with their children.
More fathers are also coming with their children to activities such as Tinies Time, Storytime and school holiday programs. I love to see anyone sitting with a child and helping them choose a book, and on father's day it was great to see so many dad's getting involved.
Working in a library I'm passionate about books. No apologies, that's the way it is. Combine that with working with children and you have a woman doubly passionate about children discovering the wonders of books and eventually reading. I could go and on about the benefits of reading out loud to your baby, about showing your toddler the way to hold a book, about spending time with your child and developing their language skills...but I won't. Not yet anyway.
And so many children don't have that opportunity. I know of Prep teachers who hand out books on the first day with the children. They want to know which children know how to hold a book, which way up it goes, how to turn pages ....in other words they want to know which children have NEVER been read to.
That's sad.
And of course so many children don't have a father - or one that's in their lives. I remember one Storytime and we were gluing coloured paper onto some wonderful drawing of a truck when one little 3 year old asked - ' what do I do with the picture?'. I said - ' you could take it home, show Mum and Dad.'
He didn't even look up, simply said - 'no, Daddy's in jail again.'
That's even sadder.
But on a happy note....I wanted to include something about my own father. Here he is. I'm about 6 weeks old.
And this is my poem for him. Available in the Australian Poetry Dear Dad anthology
PJ
You taught me how to bait a hook
that bees drunk on fermenting nectarines
tickle your palm
to enjoy reading aloud
and to become as one with the earth.
You taught me to drive a three on a tree
column shift baby blue Holden station wagon
to enjoy a good port
that rules are to be obeyed
and which ones can be broken.
You taught me that grief is ok
to believe in love
that quietly spoken
doesn’t mean
having nothing to say.
More fathers are also coming with their children to activities such as Tinies Time, Storytime and school holiday programs. I love to see anyone sitting with a child and helping them choose a book, and on father's day it was great to see so many dad's getting involved.
Working in a library I'm passionate about books. No apologies, that's the way it is. Combine that with working with children and you have a woman doubly passionate about children discovering the wonders of books and eventually reading. I could go and on about the benefits of reading out loud to your baby, about showing your toddler the way to hold a book, about spending time with your child and developing their language skills...but I won't. Not yet anyway.
And so many children don't have that opportunity. I know of Prep teachers who hand out books on the first day with the children. They want to know which children know how to hold a book, which way up it goes, how to turn pages ....in other words they want to know which children have NEVER been read to.
That's sad.
And of course so many children don't have a father - or one that's in their lives. I remember one Storytime and we were gluing coloured paper onto some wonderful drawing of a truck when one little 3 year old asked - ' what do I do with the picture?'. I said - ' you could take it home, show Mum and Dad.'
He didn't even look up, simply said - 'no, Daddy's in jail again.'
That's even sadder.
But on a happy note....I wanted to include something about my own father. Here he is. I'm about 6 weeks old.
And this is my poem for him. Available in the Australian Poetry Dear Dad anthology
PJ
You taught me how to bait a hook
that bees drunk on fermenting nectarines
tickle your palm
to enjoy reading aloud
and to become as one with the earth.
You taught me to drive a three on a tree
column shift baby blue Holden station wagon
to enjoy a good port
that rules are to be obeyed
and which ones can be broken.
You taught me that grief is ok
to believe in love
that quietly spoken
doesn’t mean
having nothing to say.
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