By Tom O’Connell

Already a semester into an MA in English at the turn of the New Year – and after nearly five years in third-level education – I somehow found myself getting ready for my first day of school. And I’ll admit it was more nerve-wracking than my actual first day of school, if not for the fact that I have video footage of my five-year-old self carrying a massive schoolbag and the weight of the world on my shoulders.

This time, I was stepping out of my comfort zone, and at the start of one of the most rewarding experiences of my life – the placement portion of my ‘Service Learning: Literary Studies in the Community’ module.

Over 1,400 University of Galway students participate in service learning programmes each year, with over 500 community partners. The aim is to learn through experience and civic engagement; in my case, a once-a-week reading session with the fifth-class pupils of Scoil Bhríde in Shantalla.

My classmates and I work to promote literacy, and specifically the holy grail of ‘reading for pleasure’ in a digital age.

Anecdotally, having been an avid reader all my life, I cannot overstate the impact reading for pleasure had on my early education; the benefits for reading comprehension alone removed the barriers to entry from every other subject and, at higher levels of education, it became a prerequisite to understanding.

I now study English literature, apart from writing novels and short stories in my free time – but even without going to such extremes, I firmly believe that discovering and nurturing a love for reading at a young age was the most crucial aspect of my development.

I got involved in this programme to (hopefully) give a primary school pupil this experience, but objective research shows the same thing: the benefits of reading for pleasure are independent of health, wealth and school factors, and can help to bridge the gap between children of different socioeconomic status, academically speaking.

So, armed with this knowledge and a personal connection to the subject, I found myself signing the school register with my classmates that Tuesday morning, before trooping towards the hall for welcome speeches and the assignment of our reading partners.

It was the gentlest introduction I could ask for: a half-day, with the possibility of low attendance forecasted, meaning we actually outnumbered the students.

I tried to take an objective look at the situation for a moment, despite my nerves, and remind myself that a group of thirty or so teacher-like figures descending on a handful of ten- and eleven-year-olds was far scarier for them than for us.

Even if it was their territory.

Any remaining apprehension I had quickly dissolved over the course of the teachers’ welcome, which reiterated all the benefits of the programme and of reading for pleasure, but also expressed a far more fundamental truth – simply showing up for our reading partner each week, and being a dependable adult in their life, was just as important as any book or activity we shared with them.

Scoil Bhríde truly champions this programme, and I was awed by the care and compassion its staff and teachers show every student, extending far beyond the classroom.

I supposed this was the ‘civic engagement’ aspect of service learning I had read about, but the truth of it had not really hit me until that moment, surrounded by teachers and children, and it has hit me harder and harder during each weekly reading session.

Once initial introductions had taken place in the school hall, I and many of my course mates were led by our new charges into a small classroom, and we aimed for a natural, dignified sort of posture as we pulled our tiny chairs under smaller desks.

This itself was an important effort at creating an equal footing with our reading partners and making this hour something to be enjoyed rather than forced upon them.

But the size of the room and the set-up within meant everyone was in close proximity, and all around me I heard opening chats dissolve into a first, casual assessment of reading ability: reading aloud.

A few pages to establish a baseline; how else could you begin something like this?

And for the most part, everyone’s reading partner could be heard to sail through the opening pages of their books, many of which were donated to the school library by my course director, and the creator of the university’s literacy-based service learning modules, Dr. Dermot Burns.

His aim is that ‘some of those kids will come and do English here,’ and I hope I have aided him in some small way.

A major benefit of service learning is that it can identify reading difficulties that might be invisible in a group setting. The act of reading aloud does not necessarily cover reading comprehension, for example – as long as it sounds right, gaps in understanding can be disguised.

And I cannot think of a better solution than a dedicated reading session with a university student; revising passages, creating games and challenges, and turning the whole thing into a reciprocal discussion. A sense of trust develops, and it instils a profound motivation in each child.

I witnessed all of this as the weeks progressed, with reflections on successes and shortcomings discussed and new strategies developed in the weekly Thursday seminar, held for MA students in the university.

Difficulties ranged from engaging reluctant readers, with a focus on attention span, comprehension, and confidence, to making reading ‘fun’ for more advanced or willing readers.

But we were all united by the common goal of encouraging reading for pleasure, and the hope that one day these children might want to read outside of school; the seminar quickly became a support group, in a manner of speaking, and a sense of camaraderie developed.

Meanwhile, reading sessions evolved into a whole spectrum of activities. Particular favourites with my reading partner, Michael (name changed) included drawing scenes and characters in comic-strip panels based on descriptions within the book, and completing crosswords, wordsearches, and other puzzles based on new vocabulary.

But the major breakthroughs came simply from listening to Michael and taking note of his interests.

A love of the sports brand Nike was the most he was willing to confide in me that first week, but I did my best to work with it and came back next Tuesday with a homemade pamphlet on the Greek goddess that inspired the name.

To my immense surprise, Michael insisted on keeping it, and we’ve developed a rapport over mythology, with Thor being a particular favourite.

Little moments like these are what I have come to interpret as progress over the last number of weeks.

One Tuesday, Michael remembered the exact paragraph we had left off on the previous week; another, I asked him for the meaning of a word, and he felt comfortable enough to guess at a definition from the surrounding context, instead of saying ‘I don’t know.’

Little moments. Tough to quantify, but as meaningful to me as anything I have done in college.

I never landed on a set structure for these reading sessions, but I think that is the beauty of service learning. It is an experience tailored to the individual, whether it looks like reading about their personal interests, or drawing pictures and incorporating visual learning, or making a game of it to show that reading can be fun.

The benefits only accumulate in this unforced manner, but with child literacy dwindling, and reading for pleasure even more so, service learning is a crucial intervention.

I enrolled in this programme to fulfil a simple desire to share the joyful experience that reading represented in my childhood, but I have come away from it with a deep appreciation for the pedagogy of service learning, and the knowledge that these alternative and enriching experiences can and should be integrated into the regular curriculum.

There is no reason these benefits should not extend to other subjects, but I just hope I have imparted some love of books on my reading partner, and I am glad to know that someone else will sit in his seat next year, and try their hand, on Tuesday mornings, at reading for pleasure.

Tom O’Connell is doing a Masters in English at the University of Galway. He recently signed a book deal for his debut novel, which is due out in 2025.

Pictured: Love of language… Tom O’Connell.