Waddling forward: lessons from kindergarten
New beginnings
The stoic philosopher Heraclitus said, “A man cannot step into the same river twice, because it is not the same river, and he is not the same man.” In other words, the water never stops flowing, and change is the only constant in life.
I’ve recently been reflecting on what it means to change course. After working for over a decade at a large publisher, I’ve embarked on a career as a freelance legal editor and proofreader. Change can be many things—exciting, surprising, anxiety-inducing—but it is, above all, inevitable.
As it happens, my five-year-old son, Max, is stepping into a different river: He is learning how to read. At the start of each week, Max brings home a new book from school. Every morning, after he finishes his breakfast and brushes his teeth, it’s time for us to “snuggle up and read.” We make our way to the orange chair in our designated reading nook, and move through a three-step process: (1) I read the book to Max, (2) Max and I read the book together, line by line, and (3) Max reads the book independently.
This week’s book is called Penguin Pals. It reads as follows:
See the penguin pals waddle. Waddle Waddle!
See the penguin pals dive. Dive dive!
See the penguin pals swim. Swim swim!
See the penguin pals hop. Hop hop!
See the penguin pals slide. Slide slide!
See the penguin pals talk. Squawk squawk!
After Max reads the book independently, he peppers me with facts about penguins, asks a series of penguin-related questions (“Where do penguins live?” “What do penguins eat?” “How do penguins stay warm?”) and shows off his penguin waddle. He steps out of the reading nook and into his day with energy and curiosity, ready for school.
The power of simplicity
Penguin Pals illustrates that brevity and simplicity can make for a memorable reading experience. There are obvious differences between a children’s book and, say, a legal memo. But in both genres, for the writing to be effective, it must be clear and concise. Too often, legal writing consists of long-winded prose and is overly complex. Some lawyers believe that these features signify a level of seriousness; but in reality, they overshadow the writing, and the writer’s message is lost.
In my editing, I apply the lessons learned from my reading sessions with Max: Opt for clarity over complexity. Keep it simple. Less is more.
As Max and I wade into our respective rivers—he as a reader, and I as a freelance editor—we are bound to face challenges along the way. Such is the inevitable reality of new beginnings. But I am grateful to be waddling ahead with him by my side.