A teacher asked her colleague, Emily, what she did about children who don’t want to, don’t like to, write.

After a pause Emily replied that she could think of no child in her class who didn’t like writing.

It’s true. I know the children in her class, and even children for whom the mechanics remain difficult want to, indeed, like to, write. It led me to think about why that was. Soon after that another teacher told me of how the teacher taking over her class in September had come to her in amazement, asking what she had done to make that class so enthusiastic about writing.

‘They love it,’ she told my friend. ‘And what is this freewriting they talk about?’

My friend had introduced a daily freewriting session. For ten minutes she and the children wrote freely, non-stop, about anything they pleased. There was time for sharing, too. Children (and adults) who wanted to could read aloud what they had written. And they wanted to. And they wanted to hear each other’s writing.

Which made me think of a Year 2 boy who mystified his teacher, and me, by telling her that what he liked about writing was that it was exciting. We didn’t doubt that writing could be exciting, but this boy wrote the most mundane and pedestrian things, usually no more than one sentence in a single session; nothing intrinsically exciting, we thought.

Then his teacher observed him more carefully when he was writing. He wrote with others around a table. They leaned in and out from the page, often pausing to exchange information about what they were doing;  reading their words aloud and sharing their drawings. They were a little community of writers; and being part of that community, surely, was exciting. What were they doing? They were coming up with ideas, thoughts, memories that started in their heads and which they were able to translate into words and images on the page. Not only that, once on the page it was there to share. And they got to hear other people’s words, also. It was exciting!

What is most exciting, is their sense of agency. They were able to choose what to write and how to write it.

Pause for a moment and think about how thoughts shift around in your head, how they begin to shape themselves into something more coherent and then the hand takes over and those thoughts and arrangements of words appear on page or screen. Exciting!

Which brings me back to Emily, and a Reception/ Year 1 class just before Christmas. We were making garlands from card circles to be hung from a string. We suggested that they think about writing names of special people on the cards, and special Christmas wishes. They could write their own names if they wished (everyone would be able to do that) and then the names of others. Emily and I had their families in mind, I think, but these children set to work writing the names of their friends in school. And they moved on to making cards. They sat side by side, writing and decorating cards for each other. They saw no need for envelopes, secrets or surprises. Harry and Will, crouched together on the floor, explained that Harry was making a card for Will and Will was making a card for Harry. Children gathered round the table where there were gold and silver pens. They offered running commentaries to the future recipient of the card on its progress. ‘We will go to the beach,’ wrote Candice. They were in charge. When I returned to the class in the next week, they were eager to continue this compelling activity.

What is exciting? It is the knowledge that we can write what we want in ways that we choose. Teachers who attend my writing workshops know that they can write what and how they wish. It is something of a joke that they never do as they are told [although they often do] but that freedom, that sense of agency is, it seems to me, crucial as we learn how to write and understand what writing can do and be for us. What is exciting about writing for you? What stops the excitement? Is there something you can do about it?

Children in Emily’s class have agency. They have known since they were in reception that they are in charge of and have responsibility for their writing. They have regular opportunities to write freely. They must also follow given briefs. They do so in the knowledge that their teacher welcomes their personal interpretations and that they can solve any problems the task poses for them in ways that suit them and which strengthen their writing practice.

That is exciting.