How We Learn to Read and Write

What and How We Learn

How We Learn to Read and Write


Just a few months ago, the New York Times reported what it called a national reading crisis. Reading scores had dropped to their lowest in decades. In a country that spends an average of $16,000 (about ₹14 lakhs) per child per year on schooling. How is it possible to be failing at something so basic?
As expected, the usual cycle of blame began. Some pointed fingers at masks, which, they argued, disrupted phonemic awareness since children couldn't see how teachers formed words with their mouths. Others insisted that the solution was to return to "the science of reading," often interpreted as intensive phonics instruction. More assessments. More early intervention. More scripted curricula.
But let's pause. Imagine a group of botanists examining a garden. They begin fretting about how many plants are behind. The sunflowers are drooping. The jasmine hasn't bloomed. And look at the bamboo shoot—it hasn't grown at all. They form a panel and come up with suggestions: Should we increase nitrogen levels? Perhaps invest in a heating system? Maybe change the soil composition entirely?
No one considers the obvious: growth is not linear. In another similar garden just across the path, bamboo that showed no visible change for months has suddenly shot up a few feet overnight. Nothing dramatic was added. Just care. Just time.
It is a metaphor we return to often. Learning, like growth, is largely invisible for long stretches. Roots develop before shoots. The most important changes are happening underground.
We are so conditioned to look for quick results that we forget this. Especially with something as visible and measurable as reading. It lends itself to comparison. Charts. Levels. Milestones.
Yes, English is a tough language to decode. The relationship between letters and sounds is wildly inconsistent. The word "though" doesn't rhyme with "rough" or "through." So, the dominant logic becomes: If the code is messy, children need to be trained harder and earlier. Drill the phonics. Segment the sounds. Make flashcards.
This is reductionism in full form. Reading becomes a mechanical process to be mastered. And in the process, the very thing we're trying to inspire—a love of reading, of ideas, of story—gets lost.
We believe that learning to read starts with learning to love language. With stories. With wonder. With the feeling of being transported into another world by a sentence that sings:
"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
That line has stayed with children (and adults) across generations. Not because someone drilled the sounds into them. But because it meant something.
Storytelling. Age no bar
Storytelling. Age no bar

Stories First: Our Path to Literacy

At Comini, reading is not a subject. It's a way of life. It's embedded in everything we do. Children read to each other, older kids read to younger ones, and facilitators read aloud as part of nearly every session—whether we're exploring birds, ancient civilizations, or number patterns.
Books spill out of baskets and shelves. There are picture books, comics, folktales, poetry, graphic novels, joke books, field guides. We weave them into our theme explorations. The children’s fascination with sharks started by reading Shark Lady by Jess Keating. “The Big Book of Birds” was our bible when we did our month about birds.
This is how children build relationships with text. First emotionally. Then cognitively.
It doesn't mean we ignore phonics. We introduce it. Carefully. With stories. With rhyme and rhythm. With an understanding that decoding must never be separated from meaning. We don't drill. We invite. We play with sounds. We notice patterns. We build an awareness of how language works in a way that feels joyful, not punishing.
And crucially, we let timelines be. Reading fluency does not have a fixed age.
Reading to each other even if we can't quite read yet!
Reading to each other even if we can't quite read yet!

Creating a World Rich with Language

We surround children with language. Through conversation, storytelling, songs, poetry, and games. Our facilitators bring their favorite books into every corner of the day. A story read at rest time sparks questions that turn into an impromptu science experiment. A funny poem becomes the inspiration for a skit. A word from a picture book sparks a spontaneous vocabulary game.
Stories, conversations, songs, and poetry saturate our days. A child's vocabulary expands dramatically, not because we "teach" words but because they encounter language embedded in contexts that matter to them.
Our approach includes:
  • Reading aloud daily from diverse, high-quality literature
  • Facilitators who model rich language in their interactions
  • Dramatic play areas that prompt specific vocabulary (restaurant menus, medical tools, construction materials)
  • Daily opportunities for children to share their own stories and observations
  • Songs, rhymes, and wordplay that highlight language patterns
  • Visual documentation that pairs images with written language
This immersion creates the neural pathways that make formal reading instruction effective when the time comes. Rather than starting with isolated phonics and hoping meaning will follow, we start with meaningful language experiences and trust that phonological awareness will develop naturally within that context.

Supporting Many Languages and Many Learners

Language isn't limited to English either. We welcome books and conversations in all languages that children speak at home. Hindi, Marathi,  Tamil, Gujarati, Japanese, Italian—each brings its own rhythm and worldview. Children learn to code-switch, to translate, to appreciate the nuances of meaning that get lost and gained across languages.
Many of our children are growing up bilingual or multilingual. Some speak English fluently, others have walked in without speaking or understanding a lick of English. We embrace this diversity.
Nine-year-old Diya speaks Tamil at home, English at Comini, and is learning Hindi from friends. Rather than seeing this as confusing or problematic, we recognize that her multilingual brain is developing sophisticated metalinguistic awareness—an understanding of how language systems work that actually accelerates literacy development in all languages.
Research confirms what we've observed: children who navigate multiple languages develop stronger phonological awareness and more flexible thinking about symbolism and meaning—precisely the skills that support strong reading ability.
We don't assume that English fluency must precede literacy. We listen carefully to each child's language strengths. We support decoding in whichever language they are ready for. We share books in multiple languages. We pair children so they can support each other.
And we always prioritize meaning. If a child stumbles on a word, our first question isn't "what sound does it start with?" but "what do you think this could mean?" Language is, first and foremost, a tool for communication.
This inclusive approach extends to children with different learning styles and challenges. When a child struggled with traditional approaches to letter recognition, we discovered his strength in tactile learning. Sand writing, clay letter formation, and movement-based alphabet games created pathways to literacy that traditional paper-and-pencil methods couldn't provide.
The key is not finding a one-size-fits-all method but observing each child closely to identify their unique pathway to literacy.
Self-motivated bunch learning to write in Hindi
Self-motivated bunch learning to write in Hindi

When Formal Reading Instruction Begins

We delay it. As much as possible. One of our most controversial approaches is staying away from formal reading instruction for as long as possible.
"But when do they learn to read?" visitors often ask with concern. The question reflects deeply ingrained assumptions about academic timelines and methods. The implicit worry is that without early, direct instruction, children will fall behind, struggle, or develop poor habits.
Our experience shows exactly the opposite. By allowing children to develop deep language foundations through immersive, meaningful experiences with stories, conversation, and play, we create the conditions for reading to emerge when each child is developmentally ready.
We don't hand out worksheets or ask children to memorize sight words. We don't teach grammar. Instead, we allow grammar to be absorbed—through use, through reading, through story.
Writing begins the same way. Not with line tracing or dictation, but with expression. A comic strip. A postcard to a friend. A recipe for a potion. A sign for a play. When a child wants to say something, we support them in writing it down—with help when needed, with spelling support gently offered, not enforced.
We help children see writing as communication. As thought made visible. Reading, then, becomes the reverse: seeing someone else's thought. A conversation across time and space.
This recognition—that language is meaning, not mechanics—forms the foundation of how we approach literacy.
This doesn't mean we do nothing. We create environments rich with print, associate written language with meaningful experiences, and respond to children's natural curiosity about letters and words. But we don't force systematic phonics instruction on three and four-year-olds or pressure five-year-olds to meet arbitrary reading benchmarks.
We don't like writing worksheets but we love that we can express ourselves with writing
We don't like writing worksheets but we love that we can express ourselves with writing

Learning Beyond the Expected Timeline

One of the brightest children we've worked with simply couldn't string together the sounds for simple three-letter words. He could build elaborate marble runs, crack logic puzzles, and lead complex pretend-play games—but "cat" remained elusive. For months, we debated: should we begin one-on-one sessions? Should we screen for dyslexia? But then we reminded ourselves: development is uneven. Learning is nonlinear.
So we waited. Observed. Continued to offer books, play sound games, invite him into group reading when he wanted. And over a year later, something changed. One day he picked up a comic book and just read. No one taught him to read that specific book. His brain and body had reorganized in ways invisible to us. Likely his phonological working memory had matured. Or perhaps he had made enough meaning-based connections that the decoding suddenly became worthwhile.
Whatever the exact cause, what mattered was this: learning was happening all along, even when it wasn't visible. The roots were growing. We just needed to keep watering them.
Learning happens constantly, even when it's not visible. Neural connections are being formed, sometimes literally, as neurons in different brain regions are rewired. This internal development doesn't show up immediately in measurable progress. We must tend to the roots even when we can't see them, trusting the natural process of growth.

From First Words to Fluent Expression

What starts with a read-aloud under a banyan tree turns into a theater script. A poem jotted in a notebook is later revised and read at a sharing circle. Children begin to see themselves as readers and writers not because we told them they were, but because they felt it.
When children read because they want to know more, or because they're captivated by a story, or because they want to make someone laugh—that's when literacy has truly taken root.
It doesn't follow a predictable path. Some begin with decoding and build fluency. Others memorize large chunks of text and then suddenly make the decoding leap. Some are quiet readers who blossom into expressive writers. Others dictate stories before they can write a word.
Five-year-old Amaya reads simple texts slowly, sounding out each word. Nine-year-old Vikram devours chapter books, his eyes flying across the page. The difference isn't just speed but the integration of multiple skills—decoding, vocabulary, syntax, background knowledge, and more—into a seamless process.
We support this development through:
  • Regular independent reading time with self-selected books
  • Book discussions that move beyond literal comprehension to deeper meanings
  • Writing projects that help children find their unique voices (we are just getting started on this)
  • Vocabulary development embedded in meaningful contexts
  • Explicit connections between reading strategies and real-world purposes
Throughout this journey, we maintain our focus on meaning and purpose rather than mechanical skills. A child who reads slowly but with deep understanding is developing more valuable literacy than one who decodes quickly without comprehension.
Our job is not to standardize this journey, but to protect it. To build a culture of books and expression. To surround children with the tools and models of literacy. To honor their timelines. And to trust the same thing we see with all real learning: given time, context, and meaning, it will come.
Reading graphic novels on a door-mat. Because who cares!
Reading graphic novels on a door-mat. Because who cares!

The Path Forward

The reading crisis mentioned at the beginning of this chapter isn't a failure of children but of methods. When we reduce reading to isolated skills practice divorced from meaning and purpose, we shouldn't be surprised when children struggle to see the point.
At Comini, we've found that honoring children's natural development while immersing them in rich language experiences creates the conditions for literacy to flourish. Not on an arbitrary timetable, but on each child's unique developmental journey.
This doesn't mean we ignore phonics or other technical aspects of reading. We, in fact, have guides to help educators understand the right science of reading. But they don’t dictate what we do. We simply approach them with a clear understanding that a) they must always be connected to the whole picture of meaning, and b) every child has their own timeline for integrating these skills.
By trusting the nonlinear nature of learning and focusing on nurturing a genuine love of language and stories, we've watched children develop not just technical reading ability but the much more important capacity to think deeply about texts, express themselves clearly, and use literacy as a tool for lifelong learning and connection.
This is literacy built to last—reading and writing that serves life itself, not just school success. And it grows not from pressure and early academics, but from the fertile soil of wonder, meaning, and respect for each child's unique developmental journey.
Let the roots grow. The shoot will follow.
Another mixed-age, mixed-interest bunch enraptured by a story
Another mixed-age, mixed-interest bunch enraptured by a story