Children’s Laureate Alex Wharton on the power of language, rhythm and reading

Growing up in the small post-industrial mining town of Pontypool in south Wales, Alex Wharton was transported to other worlds. As a child he would absorb technicolour comics and lose himself in thick general knowledge books, studying maps and exploring global cultures. As a teen, he became a rap afcionado, obsessively studying the lyrics of Outkast, Lauryn Hill and Talib Kweli.

“That was my self-directed method of finding language I enjoyed,” he says. “I usually say I didn’t start reading poetry until I was an adult. But, looking back to those lyrics, I very much was doing so as a teenager.”

Wharton is currently the Children’s Laureate for Wales and takes his poetry to libraries, school classrooms and events all over the UK. So, it makes perfect sense that the foundations for his arresting, engaging and entertaining stories for kids and adults – spanning everything from tales of kingfishers to jelly beans – lie in the combination of words and rhythm he heard on those formative CDs.

There is a very fluid, musical pulse to Wharton’s words and delivery: “I need fizzy-dizzy-disco words that bounce along a beat,”he writes in I Don’t Want to Write a Poem. “It’s not always about having a big, bold message,” he says. “It’s about those lovely little things like offering comfort and forging connections through language that create a positive environment. This leads children to realise that literature and language can really improve their lives – like they have mine.”

Reading is one of the biggest indicators of a child’s success, he notes, and adds: “If you can read to them in ways that feel interesting, they’re more likely to pick up a book for themselves.

Finding that way in is perhaps more crucial than ever because recent research has shown that less than half of parents find it fun to read aloud to their children. For Wharton, it’s well worth pushing through any initial reluctance to try to kickstart a positive cycle that begins in childhood.

“If you build positive connections to reading with a child when they are young, they’re more likely to become a teenager who reads for pleasure and then also an adult who may recognise the importance of reading to their children,” he says. “Developing that love of language can start when you’re really young.”

So Wharton, when writing his children’s books of poetry, such as Doughnuts, Thieves and Chimpanzees, does so with a wider demographic in mind. “I don’t write for children, I write for a whole audience, excluding no one,” he says. “When you do that, the language can be entertaining for a librarian, teacher, parent or guardian as well as for the child.”

You can see it in their eyes, and their cogs turning, because you transport them into a world where anything is possible

It’s also vital for development on a cellular level, Wharton reckons. “Poetry is a method of self-expression that is very therapeutic, but it also connects us and builds our brain,” he says.“When you memorise poetry, you’re building strong connections in the brain, and it helps build our vocabulary as well as offer a greater understanding of the world.”

And as someone who spends a huge amount of time up close reading to children, as well as encouraging them to write their own poetry, the response that Wharton gets never ceases to amaze him. He describes seeing “small but powerful ripples” as he lays the groundwork for the magic that can come from engaging with words.

“You can see it in their eyes, and their cogs turning, because you transport them into a world where anything is possible. You’ve shown them a positive connection to literature and language and that they can write about absolutely anything. And that realisation?It’s really powerful.

Main image: Sam Hardwick