I am not going to discuss the educational systems of today because every country has its own way of teaching and what works in one place may not work in another. Some countries have a vibrant home-schooling system whereas in others teaching is mostly at school, whether private or state run schools.
What I will mention is teaching in the good old days when I was but a young lad.
I remember back then, when I was a pupil in our school there was a pretty little girl whom I was very fond of. Her name was Mary and she had a little lamb. His fleece was white as snow. The lamb came to school with her every day. One slice at a time in her sandwich.
There was also a boy called Jack. He loved beans. Every day at school lunch he had beans. I used to wonder whether, if he ate a magic bean, it would grow into a stalk and come out of his bottom and raise him to the sky.
There was also a girl with long blonde hair. We used to watch it blow in the wind and we used to run and catch it before it got entangled in the bushes. We called her Goldilocks. Once she said that the school bench was too hard to sit on. The teacher told her to stop being pretentious.
Anyway ... as I was about to say before my thoughts interrupted me ... when I was a little boy at school I learnt to write. But sadly not to read. I just wrote and wrote because our teacher told us to.
We had to write all sort of stories every day. The teacher told us to write about things we did at home or on holidays. Things like what our parents do privately at home, what they say, their political allegiances, what they did for a living and so on.
I remember writing that mom entertained people for a living. She used to sell tickets at the local cinema.
I wrote that dad worked for a while in the museum. One day he took our dog to work with him and the dog ate the dinosaurs leg bone. It was a very old dinosaur skeleton. Two million years and six months and thirteen days. I knew the age precisely because when dad started working at the museum the dinosaur was two million years old. And dad had been there for six months and thirteen days.
I wrote that one year for a holiday we went to Disneyland. Pluto did a wee on dad's leg. There were Mickey and Minnie Mouse there. I wondered if they were related because they had the same surname. I wrote that Donald Duck in the cartoons always wore a jacket and a hat but no trousers; but when he came out of the bath he had a towel round his waist. Very odd, I thought.
Anyway ... So it came to pass that with all this writing at school I got more and more interested in writing rather than reading. Eventually, many years later, I ended up writing books which to this day I have never read.
I think this is the most convoluted and long-winded way for me to advertise my books. But hey ... they are worth reading ... or so I am told!
You can find out more about them HERE. And HERE. And HERE.
Each HERE is different. Try them all. Just like Hank did.