4 Things I Learned From Visiting Schools As An Author

This summer I had the privilege of being invited to twelve schools in India for an author visit. I had no idea what this would entail as this was my first time doing such a thing, as a newly published children’s book author. A majority of my visits were to schools in Pune, which is where I’ve spent a decade of my childhood and where my family now lives, and I also visited a handful of schools in Delhi, Noida, and Faridabad. The Scholastic India local sales teams set up the appointments and determined which schools I was going to visit. I basically rustled up a presentation, prepped a talk and then rolled up to the schools.

Okay, so when I was a kid going to school in Pune, the world seemed really small to me. This was the late 1980s (yes, I’m that old), so obviously the city has grown tremendously since then, but seriously what are all these new schools and why are they so remote?! I always thought Pune had about 5–10 schools that were about 5–10 minutes away from my house. Yes, that was probably the case in the ’80s, but fast-forward to today and we are looking at dozens of new über-impressive, ginormous schools (all the kids are rollerblading at school now?) that have opened up in the last 15 years or so and are located on the outskirts of the city, i.e., hours and hours away from my home. 

Therefore massively underestimating how long it was going to take to get there, I arrived at my first school visit a solid 10 minutes late, frazzled from the monsoon-drenched and bumpy-as-bumpy-gets two-hour car ride. We ended up overshooting the raw muddy path that led to the school by 6 kilometers, not to mention my dad’s car almost fell in a bloody ditch, so let’s just say that I was not in the cheeriest of moods, quite irritable and grumpy in fact. I charged out of the car, and there in the lobby stood the principal, vice principal, a photographer, along with a few other senior school staff solemnly awaiting my arrival. I was disheveled, my bladder was bursting, and I was starving. Oh and did I mention that it was raining, the security guards basically refused to let the car enter the school parking lot, and I didn’t have an umbrella so was a tad damp too!

But I smiled my best smile and entered the school, author extraordinaire looking more like a raggedy street pup! The principal, a lovely, dignified woman of few words, took one pitiful look at me and immediately asked, “Would you like to freshen up first?” YES, PLEASE and thank you for reading my mind! It’s amazing what a few minutes of bathroom time can accomplish. I reappeared more human this time and was rapidly escorted to a massive hall where about 300 children were patiently waiting for me. My heart started beating wildly. This was a first! Little kids waiting to listen to me? What would I tell them? What if they hated me? What if they made faces at me? Booed me even? I had presented to many C-level executives, thanks to my former corporate life, but why was I so scared of these little ones now? At first, children can seem intimidating, especially huge crowds of them. Hundreds of eager eyes, a few innocent smiles, but mostly just quizzical looks and a lot of curious energy plus an uncertain and unfamiliar buzz in the air. C-level executives are predictable and polite. Little humans, not so much.

Turns out that I had nothing to fear really. Once you strike a chord with children, and that is definitely the first order of the day—to establish who you are, why you’re cool (thank goodness I worked at Facebook ), and why they should listen up and trust what you’re saying—these little ones can be as sweet as candy. Smiling, giggling, clapping, loving freely, and giving you, the speaker, all the positive energy and buzz you need.

What else did I learn from my school visits?

1. Smile, laugh, and be one with the little ones: Connecting with children involves minimizing the physical distance between you and them. At one of the schools I was so physically distanced from the kids by the setup of the auditorium that while I felt like Madonna up on a massive stage facing a 500-plus crowd, I struggled to connect with the kids as I could barely even see them. Crouching down to eye level, walking around, giving high fives, looking into their eyes, asking questions, letting them share, keeping it casual and real and fun. The school culture in India is quite formal compared to the west and the kids soaked up how casual and buddy-like I was with them.

Laugh at their jokes, questions, and comments. Take selfies together (oh, how they love this) and smile the entire time. Be super positive and encouraging and say things like “that was an awesome question!” P.S. Most little kids don’t know the difference between asking a question and sharing. Lots and lots of them just wanted to share their food/cooking stories which was great and so I learned that I often needed to stop talking and just listen.

2. Go with the flow: Every school setup was different and often unpredictable, so I had to be prepared for whatever was thrown at me. From 50 kids in a room to 500 in an auditorium plus varying ages of children... each group was different, and yet the energy was mostly the same. The kids in the north of India were definitely a wilder bunch, and one particular selfie attempt turned into a crazy stampede with me clutching onto the podium for dear life, trying not to be physically crushed by 300 rambunctious children. That incident really shook me and reminded me what a tough job teachers have in disciplining kids nowadays. Children have changed, teaching has changed, and expectations have changed. We want children to be bold and confident, but this often comes with fearlessness and a sense of entitlement. During my school years, I distinctly recall my friends and I being rather scared of our teachers. This is definitely not the case anymore.

In other more trivial woes, often the set-up for my talk would just completely fail. For example, audiovisuals wouldn’t work, or the mic quality was suboptimal, and so oftentimes I ditched the mic and spoke as loudly as I could, preferring my natural voice anyway. It’s important to not be affected by these things, as it can influence your energy and the little ones sense everything. I would usually make a joke about it . . . like at one school the mic was so bad, I sounded like a freaking robot. I kept asking the kids, “Do I sound like a robot?” In an exaggerated robot voice, which they found hysterical. When all props failed, I had my book and my stories and a stark reminder that my main job was to paint pictures in their mind and take them along on a magical journey with my words. Back to basics.

3. Captivate them! From author to actor: It became apparent to me, pretty early on, that I couldn’t just plainly read my stories to third, fourth, and fifth grade kids. Children have short attention spans and are easily bored or distracted. I had to channel my inner actor and be dramatic, have lots of expressions, wave my hands around wildly, and basically act out the stories. Pirate Jimmy was on a worldly adventure after all, and the red-hot chili dragon was breathing fire! My inner performer (which is mostly a stand-up comedian, unfortunately) was ready at the get-go; this was my moment to perform! It wasn’t easy, but the more I did it, the better I got, the more attention I got, plus the positive and instantaneous feedback from the little ones was very motivating. Some children’s book writers and illustrators are very, very good at this performance bit, and I certainly have a lot to learn.

4. Humility and respect is the name of the game: If there is one place in the world where you will be massively respected for being a writer or author, it is at a school! I’m talking full-on chief guest welcomes, with speeches, standing ovations, photographers, children fighting to get your autograph and shake your hand, principals gushing, plates of samosas and endless cups of chai, hand-painted welcome signs, bouquets, garlands, plants and other super thoughtful gifts. Wow, I was just blown away by the excitement the schools showed for having me there. I felt grateful and soaked it all in because being a writer is a very tough and mostly unpaid job, and these are the rewards I need to keep with me forever.

The school visits were an incredibly humbling and invaluable experience. Who would have thought I’d learn so much and grow so much as a writer and speaker (and performer)? To be perfectly honest, despite the brutal hours spent on the road getting to all the schools, it was such a fulfilling experience and I was really grateful for the opportunity. I was totally in the zone at my talks and although completely exhausted afterward (which indicated to me that I gave it my all), I can’t wait to keep sharing my stories and spending more time with my little readers.