The Project Worker is required to set-up, establish and facilitate weekly shared reading groups in two London boroughs, as part of projects to improve well-being and mental health. The reading groups in Southwark will take place in a range of community settings, and in Kensington & Chelsea will be in community and in-patient mental health settings.  In addition, Project Workers are expected to take an active role and interest in the core business of TRO which includes training others in shared reading techniques, communicating the work of TRO effectively and fundraising.

The delivery of the reading groups will take place within the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea and the London Borough of Southwark. The Project Worker will work closely with the Project Co-ordinator in each borough, and make links with a range of key organisations to promote the shared reading projects, recruit group members, enlist the support and collaboration of relevant staff and develop a culture of reading within the community and in-patient settings.

Deadline for applications: 9.00am Thursday 7th June

For more information and how to apply, please visit our website: http://thereader.org.uk/about-us/job-opportunities/

Day 1: Reading to Live Well

Reading really does make you feel better, especially when it’s shared, and one of the main purposes of Day 1 was to explore this topic with a variety of professionals from public, private, and third sector organisations. Our Get Into Reading groups read aloud together in places ranging from care homes, GP surgeries, libraries, schools, community centres, in-patient mental healthcare settings, and prisons, improving wellbeing and providing stability, support, and a love of literature for their members. The day consisted of a mix of general plenary sessions complemented by breakout sessions focusing on a particular area of The Reader Organisation’s work.

Charlotte, Reader-in-Residence at Liverpool Hope University, highlights one of her top moments:

“‘The Consequences of Reading’, in which TRO Director Jane Davis spoke to Professor Jonathan Rose about his book ‘The Intellectual Life of the British Working Classes; was without a doubt one of my favourite parts of the first day of the conference. It was brilliant to see Jane in such enthusiastic conversation with a person who is clearly a personal hero of hers, and whose book has meant so much to her. I thought it was really important that the session felt like a conversation, and was fairly informal, rather than a typical ‘lecture’ or formal Q&A session.

As an English graduate myself, I found it incredibly interesting hearing Jonathan speak about his views on the responsibility of the academic to address the over-theoretical approach to literature in education environments in modern times. He commented that, 50 years ago, English was one of the most popular subjects at university, but that in recent times there has been a significant ‘falling-off’, and that he saw the cause of this to be the de-personalisation of literature, and lack of focus on the role of the reader. I was very interested by Jonathan’s comment that he saw it as his duty to put ‘the reader first and foremost in literary history: they are the one who gives the book individuality and agency – ‘they make it do something.’

Towards the end of the conversation, Jane and Jonathan spoke about the fact that there is not much opportunity given to children in society now to listen to a story over a long period of time. ‘Story times’ in schools tend to focus more on short snatches of reading, in which the child is asked to look for specific things, and feed-back on afterwards. Jonathan commented that he saw it as incredibly important that we don’t necessarily ‘ask for something in return’ when we read to a child – that we should let the story wash over them, and sink-in over time.”

Our twitter hashtag for the Conference, #TRO2012, also prompted an enthusiastic response from the audience:

#TRO2012 if only every GP could see what Dr Iona Heath can see. (@TriciaCanning)

#TRO2012 Inspirational stuff yesterday & such enthusiastic staff, would love to see it rolled out in our organisation (@OT_LisaB)

#TRO2012 CRILS – Entertaining, informing and challenging – the best presentation by academics I have ever seen (@devonbiker)

The knowledge of the speakers and the passion displayed by everyone both on stage and off was truly inspirational. Exhausted, but elated, we geared up for Friday…

Day 2: Living to Read Well

This day was exclusively designed for people who had completed our Read to Lead training and are practising as Shared Reading Facilitators. Day 2 was therefore a combination of practical sessions on reading aloud and choosing material, problem solving and literary masterclasses. Equally valuable was the opportunity to meet and catch-up with other Shared Reading Facilitators from around the UK and beyond, providing encouragement and advice on this challenging but rewarding practice.

Credit Steve Wasserman, http://readmesomethingyoulove.com

Undoubtedly, the highlight of the day for many was Lemn Sissay in conversation with Jane Davis. An advocate for Looked After Children, young people with whom The Reader Organisation also works closely, he was by turns hilarious and heart-breaking, as Michael, our Events and Publications Intern, explains:

“There was a great deal of hype surrounding Lemn Sissay’s conversation with Jane.  An expectant audience had heard a lot about this

c.Helen Kielt

charismatic writer and, I have to say, he didn’t disappoint.  What could be added to Lemn’s already extensive list of job titles (including: poet, playwright, social commentator) is performer. His energy on stage kept us on the edge of our seats, whilst his anecdotes had us laughing and murmuring our agreement in equal amounts.

But what shone through most was Lemn’s passion for children and the effect great literature can have on their minds and their lives. ‘Books open up a free space inside a child’s imagination’, Lemn affirmed.  He listed a number of characters from literature who were orphaned at a young age or who grew up in care – Oliver Twist, Harry Potter, Bruce Wayne, Jane Eyre – and argued that it is these characters that should be utilised more effectively to demonstrate to us all just how significant looked-after children are, and the important part they play in our society.”

Twitter was buzzing in response, once again:

Fabulously moving and funny Lemn Sissay #TRO2012 (@HelenKielt)

#TRO2012 what a day! What a day! What a day! What a day! (@RachelNiblock)

train home from @thereaderorg#TRO2012 conference @britishlibrary – words not enough to voice my awe of the past two days. Amazing people.(@ajeastwood)

The impact the conference had on all of us here at The Reader Organisation itself was phenomenal  – we were intellectually stimulated, re-energised and inspired, and hope you were too. The Twitter hashtag is still live, so please continue to voice your thoughts online @thereaderorg.

There’ll be more on the blog in the coming weeks, but in the meantime, roll on 2013…

This week’s Recommended Read comes from Lois Walters, our Lambeth Get Into Reading Project Worker, who has returned again and again to W Somerset Maugham’s The Painted Veil.

I was a late comer to Somerset Maugham; perhaps wrongly thinking him a white male colonial writer, but The Painted Veil has converted me. His 1925 depiction of a woman’s journey from shallow social privilege to spiritual awakening and maturity took me on journey that reflected that of the woman, Kitty.  From South Kensington in London, through Hong Kong and the cholera ridden remote depths of mainland China Kitty and I, stumbling at times, discovered a world beyond our own.

The book’s title refers to Shelley’s sonnet ‘Lift Not The Painted Veil’ which suggests we should ‘lift not the painted veil’ of life for ‘behind, lurk Fear and Hope, twin destinies’.  At the start of the novel Kitty leads a vacuous and superficial life – her destiny defined by her social status and gender. The book cleverly mirrors Kitty’s intellectual and mental  state- starting with short, often mawkish chapters where the characters are given  physical descriptions and little depth, and then developing into longer deeper chapters as Kitty, often accidentally (or through destiny), is exposed to a world beyond privileged South Kensington between the wars.

The opening chapter is one of great tension before Maugham flashes back and forth between past and present explaining to the reader how Kitty comes to be caught in flagrante delicto in the opening pages. Even after several reads it still amazes me that the book was first published in 1925, and more amazingly that it was written by a man. As Maugham slowly lifts the painted veil of Kitty’s life we the readers are drawn into her world, as she, in the words of the poem ‘sought…things to love’. Kitty like most of the characters is not wholly likeable; she is vain, judgemental and selfish – or perhaps, real? We discover as the book opens up that behind the painted veil of her life do indeed lurk fear and hope; Kitty marries a man she doesn’t love, or even really know, out of fear that she will be ‘left on the shelf’- partly spurred on by the chance that her younger sister  will beat her to the altar. She then experiences hope when she falls in love with Charlie and starts an affair with him, only to then be sent back to fear as he lets her down and she is forced to travel to cholera ridded Mei-tan-fu with the husband she does not love.

Shelley’s poem refers to hope and fear as ‘twin destinies’ and throughout the book we see them juxtaposed. Not just for Kitty though. Her cold and calculating mother fears that Kitty, when she is still unmarried at 25 (again important to remember the book was written in 1925), will be a burden on the family. One of the parts of the book that I found most disturbing is when Kitty arrives in Mei-tan-fu, full of fear, and thinks of running away but then realises

It was out of the question. If she went where would she go? Not to her mother; her mother would make her see very plainly that, having married her off, she counted on being rid of her.

But there is still the hope that her lover Charlie may come to her rescue, for Kitty has not yet lifted the painted veil that she has draped over Charlie Townsend hiding the reality that he is also self serving and superficial.

One of the reasons I love the book is that although Kitty is selfish and vacuous, she is also a product of her environment. She is naive and sheltered, there to look pretty and support her husband – but as we see her thrown into situations she is unfamiliar with she shows as certain bravery and stoicism. She also matures and starts to see the world outside her very parochial upbringing. There is a very beautiful scene, when she has arrived in Mei-tan-fu and is miserable and missing Charlie. She awakes from dreaming about him and observes the morning mist slowly dispersing and;

suddenly from that white cloud a tall, grim bastion emerged. It seemed not merely to be made visible by the all-discovering sun but rather to rise out of nothing at the touch of a magic wand.

This vision moves Kitty to tears and is the start of her spiritual maturity (and I think the moment that the members of my Get Into Reading group started to empathise with her);

she had never felt so light of heart and it seemed to her as though her body were a shell that lay at her feet and she pure spirit. Here was Beauty. She took it as the believer takes in his mouth the wafer which is God

The novel opens up as Kitty opens her eyes to the outside world and Maugham subtly changes the structure of the writing. Kitty is still flawed and selfish, but she is also human, for which of us has not made mistakes and shown poor judgement at some point in our lives?

I have read the book now twice on my own and once with a Get Into Reading group and still find much to love about it. Sharing it with others, who admittedly at times struggled to see the advantage of reading it during the early chapters when it seemed to be a novel filled with privileged and shallow character, has made me cherish it more.

I would like to thank my Get Into Reading group members at the Lambeth Walk Group Practice for their inspiring reactions to the novel and their trust that it is a book worth sticking with. It is!

Last week I read Thomas Hardy’s Her Dilemma with one of my community groups in Birkenhead. The poem had been picked by one of our newly trained reading assistants, who explained her choice by saying, ‘It’s funny, just when I was scanning this, before I even read it properly, something just grabbed me’.

The rest of the group clearly shared her initial arrest, as we all sat in stunned silence after reading it for the first time. When we began to pick it apart, the poem typically threw up more questions than answers. We were unable to work out exactly what the lie was, with everyone keen for a definite answer to the question, ‘did she say yes or not?!’

There was a general consensus that the poem is desperately sad, with each new reading bringing forth different ideas of what might be going on. Someone wryly observed, ‘it’s a bit more than a white lie really, isn’t it?’ another interjecting with, ‘yeah, it’s not like ‘d’you like my new coat, it’s ‘do you love me?’ One member was quite struck by the idea that this man may have returned from war, weakened by his experiences and nearing death. The women, he said, may be unable to turn down someone who has already suffered so much: ‘I mean, he’s ‘holding hard her hand’ – he’s really gripping it’. Another theory was that she doesn’t say yes, though she does love him, there being something – a partner perhaps – rendering it impossible for her to say how she really feels. Several group members were sure she said yes ‘to be a moment kind’ but didn’t mean it, which led to why this ‘mocked humanity’. One man quickly said, ‘Because life sets up these conundrums – that’s what life is, a series of dilemmas.’

The descriptions caused a lot of mulling over, with the group curious as to why so much space was taken up with allusions to age and waste: ‘is it like a wasted life – him being so young?’ Another member immediately came back with ‘oh, I thought he was old!’ at which point both laughed, saying, ‘isn’t that funny – we’ve both seen it so different!’ We talked about the possible significance of certain details, including the ‘wormy poppy-head’. One usually quiet man asserted, ‘they’re the first thing to grow after something’s been destroyed – like Flanders after the war; it was awash with them.’ Another member then mused ‘like a symbol of strength, maybe?’ Our youngest member was quite taken with the fact the two are in a church and kept coming back to it: ‘it’s a mess – it sounds purely manky… is it worse for her because she’s stood in church, like it’s a sin or something?’

Right at the end, one woman bent over the poem very closely and said, ‘It’s easy to think it’s a couple, but it could be a father and daughter, couldn’t it?’

Her Dilemma

The two were silent in a sunless church,
Whose mildewed walls, uneven paving-stones,
And wasted carvings passed antique research;
And nothing broke the clock’s dull monotones.

Leaning against a wormy poppy-head,
So wan and worn that he could scarcely stand,
–For he was soon to die,– he softly said,
“Tell me you love me!”–holding hard her hand.

She would have given a world to breathe “yes” truly,
So much his life seemed hanging on her mind,
And hence she lied, her heart persuaded throughly,
‘Twas worth her soul to be a moment kind.

But the sad need thereof, his nearing death,
So mocked humanity that she shamed to prize
A world conditioned thus, or care for breath
Where Nature such dilemmas could devise.

Here is one of those moments from Liz McGaw, Project Worker for Get Into Reading in the South West:

At the Yeovil Library Memory group we have been reading extracts from Cider with Rosie, with accompanying poems by Seamus Heaney, an unfamiliar poet to the group members. Sometimes faces are pulled when we read more ‘modern’ poets, and the group feels on unfamiliar territory.

Last week the group process beautifully illustrated the theory behind the Get Into Reading model, with the poem linking the feelings arising from the text, to an opening up and a shared understanding of the poems, which we would have otherwise found harder to reach.

We had puzzled over the lines at the end of Seamus Heaney’s poem Sunlight;

and here is love
Like a tinsmith’s scoop
Sunk past its gleam
In the meal bin

The group had been remembering people from their past, and all felt that ‘love’ was the most important word. One member of the group was accompanying his wife for the first time, and surprised both of them by expressing his understanding of the poem. She said, ‘Fifty years married, and I’ve learnt something new about my husband this afternoon’.

The following week we puzzled again over the last line of Heaney’s Personal Helicon. Like the previous week, all was clear until the last verse;

I rhyme To see myself, to set
The darkness echoing

What could it mean? There had been memories shared during the text of going down wells, going to the bottom and fishing around in the darkness, and remembering smells and textures.

We thought that the poet was writing to recall for himself and bring out his memories from the darkness, just as the group had done during the reading of the text. One man wrote in the comments book;

I didn’t realise how much of my childhood I can recall. Most edifying.

He had stopped us whilst we were reading to express his amazement at the variety of stories and memories the group had shared around the table, whilst reading Laurie Lee.

A collective understanding of this last verse was shared by everyone, as buried memories echoed around the table, and my image of the previous weeks poem was of a hand plunging into a bran tub ‘like a tinsmith’s scoop’ and bringing out a hidden prize.

We read again, ‘I rhyme To see myself, to set the darkness echoing’, and there were smiles and nods around the table. We decided that whatever the poet meant by these lines, we knew and could share our understanding of them, and that the poem echoed the group’s own personal discoveries brought out of the darkness. The poems had expressed for the group the experience of digging up these buried memories, and delighted them.

For more ‘wow moments’ and testimonials about the impact of Get Into Reading from group members themselves, visit our website.

I first encountered Stephen Crane during my first year of university. There was a text on my reading list: The Red Badge of Courage. The problem was my tutor had listed it in inverted commas, implying it was a poem or short story I could quickly read the night before my seminar. Imagine my annoyance when I realized it was a full-blown novel. I loaned it from the library and being a conscientious 18 year old I read it cover to cover in one night, made possible because it was an excellent book. I have not encountered a more deliciously poetic term than ‘The red badge of courage’ meaning a war wound the protagonist strives for as a soldier in the American Civil War, so I decided to move beyond Crane’s prose and into poetry.

A seemingly strange desire is the obvious theme of I Saw a Man Pursuing the Horizon, a simple, short and disjointed poem by Crane. The poem packs a rapid punch that as a reader you can relate to and understand. At some stage in life we have all wanted something more, chased a dream, and hopefully we all still do.

The real challenge of this poem is that ‘a man’ is not pursuing a highly unlikely goal, he is pursuing the horizon, something that is constant and cannot be reached. The man is chasing an impossible dream.

If you were to withdraw from the poem and were told of an individual going after something that is actually impossible (e.g. if I was trying to fly around the solar system by flapping my arms), then you would understandably think this ludicrous. However, when I read this poem I support the man pursuing the horizon, and implore him to carry on regardless.

I have used this poem in Get Into Reading at Liverpool Hope University and there has been a variety of responses. Many students, but not all, are wholeheartedly behind the man. One student said that you cannot be told you are unable to do something, it makes you more determined and the man is on a journey with value in itself, much like life. Some have related it to deluded TV talent show contestants who simply refuse to accept they cannot sing.

Another observed that the poem is told from the perspective of a naysayer, and said we do not know what this person does themselves. It just seems like they sit there, not pursuing their own dreams and pouring scorn on others, the man’s pursuit may be fruitless, but at least he’s chasing something.

Plato and Aristotle argued we should strive towards a telos, or end purpose, and this has informed a lot of study on morality and ethics. However, Einstein defined insanity as ‘doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.’ Let’s get them in a Get Into Reading group together and watch them fight it out.

I Saw a Man Pursuing the Horizon

I saw a man pursuing the horizon;
Round and round they sped.
I was disturbed at this;
I accosted the man.
“It is futile,” I said,
“You can never —”

“You lie,” he cried,
And ran on.

Dr Patricia Canning, Project Worker for Criminal Justice in Northern Ireland, presented a workshop on how Get Into Reading works for people across the country and specifically in Northern Ireland, where she currently runs a group in Hydebank Prison. As with our other projects in Criminal Justice settings, outcomes have been outstanding, with members reporting benefits such as:

• increased empathy
• personalisation and dignity
• better communication
• solidarity and a sense of community
• greater understanding and appreciation of their own ‘life stories’

Patricia’s presentation – Transforming Lives through Shared Reading - is available to download from The Library Association of Ireland’s website.

“Read to Lead taught me more about reading than my MA in literature ever did.” – Shared Reading Facilitator

We are accepting applications for the final few places on the upcoming Read to Lead training course in London. Read to Lead equips you with the skills and understanding of a shared reading facilitator, and the ability to run shared reading groups inspired by The Reader Organisation’s ground-breaking Get Into Reading project. Read to Lead is a training course and a personal experience in its own right, the beginning of a journey developing the craft of shared reading, and a special way to get involved in the Reading Revolution.

Completion of the course also allows access to Day Two of The Reader Organisation’s forthcoming National Conference - Living to Read Well - exclusively designed for those who have completed Read to Lead and who wish to develop their practice as readers and facilitators. Taking place at the British Library on 18th May, you can find out more information and book your place here.

The course will run on 14th – 16th May at 8 Hop Gardens, off St Martin’s Lane, London WC2. The three-day course and 12-month access to The Reader Organisation’s CPD programme costs £750. Flexible payment options are available. Download your application form here or contact roisinhyland@thereader.org.uk for more information.

Before I came to the groups I was housebound. I had no motivation, never spoke to no one, had no confidence; unhappy, basically. I was nervous when I first come [to the group] and didn’t know what to expect – I just thought, ‘what am I doing?!’ But when I went in, everyone greeted me and straight away I knew it was a friendly place so I relaxed a bit. When I first heard what we’d be doing [in the group] – reading – I thought, ‘is this for me?!’ then, once [the facilitator] began I started getting dead into it. The atmosphere and communicating with people – even the layout with the biscuits on the table and getting a drink – is good. It’s like being at home.

I was dreading reading, thought I’d run away, but [the facilitator] said that there was no pressure to read if you didn’t want to and then I felt ok. I never read, not once, when I first came, but then I did the training. I used to stutter my words – was dead edgy talking to people – but even my communication has improved. The other volunteers are lovely – lots of friendly faces when we meet up. To know them is, well, really nice. It’s an opportunity to make friends. The support [from Reader staff] has been great, too.

It’s given me the motivation to get out the house and do more stuff. It’s turned my life around. I’m a completely different person – sometimes I don’t recognise myself, I think, ‘Is this me?!’. It’s made me want to get out and get a life. It’s given me opportunities I’ve never had before. It’s given me the opportunity to do more with my life – I’ve had anxiety and depression and it’s helped me come out of that. You can express how you feel.  I’ve achieved something.  I used to feel like a nobody and now I feel like a somebody.  I’ve never been proud of myself before. I am now. I like feeling helpful.  It’s nice to be wanted – I’ve never had that before, I’ve never really been praised. I never used to take compliments; even if someone praised me I couldn’t take it, but now I’m learning to not take the negatives, not to worry what other people think, but just – y’know – see the positives. I used to not the like the world, not like people, but I do now.

I never liked poetry before and now I love it! It’s something I actually enjoy, I like reading something I can relate to. That one the other day (The More Loving One by WH Auden), that was just brilliant! When you leave [a group] it gives you a light, it lights up the rest of your day. I’d suggest this to every single person in the world – it’s fantastic! It changes your aspect – it’s amazing.

When asked whether there was anything more she would like to add, E said, ‘People should know just how friendly it is, it’s really important. Everyone is so welcoming.’

E has gone from strength to strength in her role; having recently been asked to share her experience of how GIR has changed her attitude to reading with a local MP, as well as expanding her current voluntary work with TRO. E has expressed a wish to go to college and one day work for TRO in a paid capacity, saying, ‘I’ve never known what I wanted to do before, but this is it.’

We couldn’t be more pleased to have her with us.

Here at TRO, we’re passionate about helping people like E overcome some of the challenges they face and transform their lives. That’s why our major fundraising campaign for 2012 is The Reader Apprenticeship Programme: Building Opportunities for Life. We’re aiming to raise £14,000 to employ a young care-leaver to work with us in Liverpool and take their first steps towards independence.

To find out how you can support this vital cause, please visit our website.

It seems, on a superficial reading, that this is such a simple poem but, like much of the Wordsworth I have read, it touches on big themes which prompt a strong reaction from the reader. The matter-of-fact way in which the little girl at the centre of the poem talks about her dead siblings has a poignancy which strikes at the heart of modern views of death and grief.

I used it recently in a group . “My little brother died at the age of 4 back in the ’30s and I never got the chance to grieve for him – now I will.” said a member. He went on to explain how his mother had explained the death with platitudes like ” It was for the best,” even though the child had died of an illness which might now be cured with antibiotics. It was never much discussed in the family after that. As a consequence, my group member felt he had never had the chance to properly come to terms with the death . He said he might even attempt to write a poem about the lost brother, and this prompted a discussion about how well we deal with loss now compared with Wordsworth’s era.

As I say – big stuff from such a simple yet lovely poem.

We Are Seven

A simple child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
—Her beauty made me glad.

‘Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?’
‘How many? Seven in all,’ she said,
And wondering looked at me.

‘And where are they? I pray you tell.’
She answered, ‘Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

‘Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother.’

‘You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!—I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be.’

Then did the little Maid reply,
‘Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree.’

‘You run above, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five.’

‘Their graves are green, they may be seen,’
The little Maid replied,
‘Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,
And they are side by side.

‘My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

‘And often after sun-set, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

‘The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

‘So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I

‘And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side.’

‘How many are you, then,’ said I,
‘If they two are in heaven?’
Quick was the little Maid’s reply,
‘O Master! we are seven.’

‘But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!’
’Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, ‘Nay, we are seven!’

William Wordsworth