Little Learning Secrets

You can have all the experience in the world. You still have to earn the relationship. 🤍

The bit people miss ↓

I really do think we need to sweat the small stuff sometimes.

Not because everything has to be perfect or controlled.

But because the tiny things we barely notice can be the exact things helping a child feel settled and safe.

Predictability doesn’t have to mean complicated visual schedules or perfectly organised routines either.

Sometimes it’s just:

* the school bag always going in the same place
* the same little after-school routine
* clothes laid out in the same spot
* using the same few words before a transition
* letting them know ahead of time when something will be different

None of those things are huge.

But for a child who finds change or uncertainty hard, they can remove a surprising amount of mental load.

The goal isn’t to make life rigid.

It’s just to make the bits we can make predictable feel predictable.

Because the little things aren’t always little to the child 🤍

We spend so much time wondering if we’re being fun enough, engaging enough, creative enough…

But lately I’ve been wondering if the thing children need most is much simpler.

Someone who shows up in the same calm, kind, predictable way every day.

Not because every day is perfect.

But because children deserve to know who they’re getting when they walk through the door 🤍

I’d love to know… what’s one quality you hope children remember about you?

Is this actually for them… or for me? 🤔

I’ve been thinking about this ever since I recorded this reel.

This wasn’t some huge revelation. It’s something I’ve always believed.

But believing something and catching yourself in the middle of a busy session are two very different things.

This week reminded me that, when we’re trying to protect learning time, it’s easy to accidentally carry a sense of urgency into the room.

So I made one small shift.

I didn’t lower my expectations.

I didn’t do less teaching.

I just became a little more intentional about protecting the child’s experience while we worked.

Because intervention is about so much more than teaching a skill.

Yes, we need to think carefully about what we teach.

But I think we also need to pay just as much attention to how children feel while they’re learning.

Children don’t just remember what happened in a session…

They remember how it felt to be a learner in it 🤍

Anyway… those are my slightly rambling thoughts while I process this one 😂 Does any of this resonate with you, or have you ever caught yourself doing something similar?

Oops… 🤭

One of my students corrected me this week… 🤍

I told her we were helping her reading brain grow.

She looked at me very seriously and said,

“I only have one brain.” 😂

And honestly…

she was right.

She wasn’t being cheeky.

She was thinking logically.

It made me realise that sometimes the way we explain things makes perfect sense to us as adults… but not necessarily to children.

So I found a new way to explain it.

And…

I think I like this one even better 🌲😊

Sometimes the best teaching ideas come from the children sitting right in front of us 🤍

“I already know this…” 🤷🏼‍♀️

Let’s be honest… how many of us have heard this from children?

And honestly… they’re usually right.

They often do know it.

I think one of the biggest misconceptions about learning to read is assuming that once a child has learned a concept, it’s time to move on.

But learning a sound…

Using it confidently in a single word…

Retrieving it instantly while reading a whole page of text…

They’re actually three very different things.

That’s why structured literacy can sometimes look a little repetitive.

We’re not simply teaching something new.

We’re helping the brain become incredibly efficient at finding and using what it already knows.

That’s what helps reading become easier, smoother and more enjoyable.

So the next time your child says,

“I already know this…”

You could simply smile and say,

“I know you do. We’re just helping your brain get so fast at using it that reading starts to feel easier.” 🤍

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.

We all want to measure progress.

And we should.

I use assessment data every single day. It helps me understand where a child is, what they’re finding difficult and what we need to teach next.

But I’ve also noticed something.

Sometimes the things that make me smile the most aren’t the things I can put into a graph.

It’s the child who has a go before asking for help.

The one who reads out loud without apologising first.

The child who makes a mistake… and keeps going anyway.

None of those moments appear in a standardised assessment.

But I don’t think that makes them any less important…

They’re often the moments I remember most 🥰

That’s one of the reasons my progress reviews always include both.

The data tells us what has changed.

The story helps explain who is changing alongside it.

And I think children deserve to be seen for both 🤍

People say the little things don’t matter.

I couldn’t disagree more.

Every session, I glue one of these into each child’s book.

It would definitely be quicker not to.

From the outside, it probably just looks like a piece of paper.

But it isn’t.

For some children, the sky, grass and dirt lines take away one small thing they have to think about.

For others, I’ll underline exactly where I want each word to go.

And for another child, I won’t do either, because they’re ready for that next step.

None of those decisions are random.

They’re based on what that child needs that day.

People often think progress comes from the big breakthroughs.

I’ve learned it usually comes from hundreds of tiny decisions that help a child put their energy into learning instead of everything around it.

Most people will never notice those little decisions.

The child will.

And for me, that’s reason enough to keep making them 🤍

Sorry not sorry… 🤷🏼‍♀️

Sometimes I make sure a child wins the very first game we play.

Not because I want them to think learning is easy.

And definitely not because I underestimate what they’re capable of.

Because before I ask a child to do something that feels hard, I want them to experience success.

That first game isn’t about assessing what they know.

It’s about helping them settle, feel safe, build trust and think…

“Maybe I can do this.”

Every activity has a purpose.

Sometimes the purpose isn’t teaching a new skill.

Sometimes it’s helping a child believe they’re capable of learning it 🤍

It’s funny…

I spend so much of my day thinking about how children feel.

Whether they feel safe enough to have a go.

Whether they feel calm enough to make mistakes.

Whether they believe they’re capable.

Then I come home and realise I’m not really any different.

He has no idea what he does for my nervous system… or for me.

I guess we’re never too old to need something that helps us feel safe 🤍