I realise this is a slightly belated reflection on World Book Day—but, in my defence, I’ve been rather occupied with other writing of late. Still, it feels worth returning to. After all, this academic year has been designated the Department for Education’s Year of Reading, which makes the conversation not just timely, but ongoing.
As an English teacher, a large part of my role is to inspire a love of literature in young people. World Book Day, then, feels like something of a focal point—a moment where that mission becomes visible and, perhaps most importantly, fun.
Staff were encouraged to come dressed as book characters, and I took the opportunity quite seriously. I arrived as Titania, Queen of the Fairies from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, complete with wings, tiara, wand, and a suitably colourful outfit. I quickly discovered that teaching becomes infinitely more enjoyable when you can gesture emphatically with a magic wand. It adds a certain authority—or at least, theatricality—to even the most mundane instructions.
I was far from alone in embracing the spirit of the day. The school was full of brilliant costumes: the entire cast of Peter Pan, a striking Lady Macbeth, a wonderfully dramatic Cruella de Vil, and even the full mystery gang from Scooby-Doo. There’s something quite special about seeing a school community collectively lean into imagination like this—it shifts the atmosphere, even if only for a day.
What struck me most, though, was the students’ response. There is a persistent narrative about the decline of reading for pleasure among young people, and while there is truth in that concern, it doesn’t tell the whole story. The students were enthusiastic, engaged, and—perhaps most gratifyingly—generous with their compliments (my bedazzled face and bright-pink eyeshadow did not go unnoticed).
More importantly, moments like these open the door to genuine conversations about reading. I always notice the difference when students ask to talk about books, to borrow one, or to ask for recommendations. It signals a shift—from reading as a task to be completed (or circumvented as efficiently as possible on platforms like Sparx Reader) to something more meaningful, more chosen.
Reading has always been central to my own life. It is, in many ways, what led me into academia, and eventually into teaching. The thrill of being absorbed into another world, another voice, another way of thinking—that is something I still carry with me, and something I hope to pass on. World Book Day is a reminder of that purpose.
That said, I am increasingly aware of how difficult it can be, as an adult, to find the time to read. Between finishing a PhD, teaching full-time, attending dance classes or karate most evenings, and trying to maintain some semblance of a social life, reading can easily become something that is postponed indefinitely. And yet, it remains important to make space for it, however that space looks.
For me, that often means audiobooks during my commute. Recently, I finished the third instalment of Ken Follett’s Pillars of the Earth series this way—an immersive and satisfying companion to long journeys. Alongside that, I’ve been dipping into Elif Shafak’s There Are Rivers in the Sky in smaller, more manageable moments. It was a thoughtful Christmas gift from my Head of Department last year, and one I’m enjoying slowly, in fragments that feel no less meaningful for their brevity.
If anything, this has made me more aware of the time that students have—time that can feel abundant, even if it doesn’t always seem that way to them. I find myself envying that capacity to sit with a book uninterrupted, to read expansively and without constraint. And I hope, perhaps somewhat optimistically, that days like World Book Day encourage them to recognise that opportunity, and to use it.
Because, ultimately, reading matters. Not just academically, but personally, imaginatively, and even emotionally. It shapes how we think, how we empathise, and how we understand the world.
And if it occasionally involves teaching Shakespeare with a wand in hand, all the better.
Bodies and Being 