Tiger's list

Tiger brought me a list. It began, Antony and Cleopatra, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, Macbeth, Hamlet.

These are the plays she wants to see. She's read as many story versions of Shakespeare as she can find in the library; she says they're all good, and now she wants to see the plays.

I am delighted, over the moon, cartwheeling with joy. But I don't tell her. I nod, say okay, and treat her list as if it is absolutely normal, matter of fact, could be a shopping run. Celery, tin of tomatoes, red pepper, Macbeth.

It's not normal, of course it's not. No 11-year old at school ever came to me with a list like that. But I don't think this daughter is especially academically gifted, or precocious in her reading, or even aware that her list might surprise some people.

I think she has arrived at that list for several reasons. First, the way she's been brought up. Thanks to her education away from classrooms, she's becoming passionate about art, theatre and books.

I just handed someone ammunition. Someone will cry, Aha! not a broad and balanced education then! School would be better placed to give a child 'an all round education!'

Crap. She's an arts girl. She's unlikely, at this point, to change nature, character, and disposition to become a maths graduate. If that's likely, I'll see it and let you know. Anyway, to accuse parents from wordy backgrounds of failing to raise maths scholars is a bit like complaining that parents who are musicians fail to raise kids who are chemists; that science-driven adults fail to raise dramatists, and that Jewish parents don't raise Catholic kids. Parental outlook, attitude, education, interest, input, home culture: it all impacts massively on the child you raise.

Simply, as parents, we're bringing Tiger up to enjoy reading; anything and everything. It's not going to surprise me if she looks for challenge and interest within it, including Shakespeare. If her tastes are wide, varied and filled with adventure, all the better. My mother would read Tolstoy in the morning and Catherine Cookson in the afternoon. I want my kids to be the same; to know that freedom, that scope, that great enjoyment of reading.

But there's that list. It's so worthy! I'm sure someone will suspect that Tiger has arrived there because we have a fixed agenda, and she's been hot housed. That is one popular idea when a child is 'not seen at school'. When we're not beating up our little darlings, we restrict their liberties, present narrow world views and sit them at desks forcing them to study Shakespeare from age eight.

I can only laugh. Tiger is mostly left alone to wander about her chosen reading areas. If I'm taking any credit, I might have pointed her in that direction by library visits, reading aloud, showing enthusiasm. Then, simply by taking her to the theatre, as often as possible. (Hey! we don't have to get up for 7am starts!) That's my meagre way of a literary education at primary age.

Tiger's list is there because school isn't. Schools commit crimes against reading. They control books; restrict texts to times and places; place books in hierarchy and value; introduce some texts as difficult and others as easy. Classrooms chop up the reading process, make it laborious, bothersome, slow and painful. Children are tested for what they read; their reading must test the effectiveness of the system. This is anti-book culture; it's anti-educational.

But it's what schools must do. You cannot inculcate an atmosphere of quiet reading with a class of thirty-two, twenty minutes till playtime and a government test to undertake on Friday. It's simply not possible. They must cater for the timetable and parcel it up in testable chunks, contain the kids at either end and keep everyone busy without allowing anyone to think too hard about anything. Tiger's not had this background. If she wants to read continuously, quietly, and privately for five hours straight on her Shakespeare story collection, she can.

Finally, Tiger's got her list because she's not had to put up with other kids telling her that Shakespeare is rubbish, too hard, or pointless.

This doesn't mean she's not had contact with other kids, nor that some kids she has contact with in the home ed world might not hold those views. It is because in the home ed world we find a lot more respect for each other's passions and specialisms. Children in this world generally do not tear round the playground organising a gang to beat up the nerdy kid who wants to sit in the corner with a book. In the home ed world there is a lot of respect for individual approaches, attitudes and points of view.

So of course I took her list, said okay, and straight off was able to tick one. Macbeth is being performed by Cheek by Jowl. We visited the library, borrowed the playscript and I read the play at home (two half-days), introducing themes, ideas, characters, lines to listen for.

At the theatre, my kids were the youngest there, were glanced at, and, I suspect, one or two of the glances conveyed the impression that someone thought I obviously didn't know what I was doing, bringing young children out late at night to a performance of psychological drama, murder and consequence.

I know exactly what I'm doing. Creating a child who delights in art, books and theatres. Tiger never lifted her eyes from the stage. She, like both her sisters, was totally fixed and silent throughout, absorbing everything and, afterwards, eager to share ideas. We talked until after midnight, expressing thoughts about as much as we could think of: from the stage set to the mime actions, the delivery of lines, costume, movement of characters, to the lighting, sounds, and use of dry ice.

When I asked Tiger if she would see Macbeth again, she answered a definite Yes! Then added, And I want to see Richard III.