A Father's Reflection on Curiosity as His Youngest Starts School
As Naveed prepares to enter his first classroom, his father Shadi Khan Saif contemplates a profound question: "What version of curiosity will the Australian education system recognise in him?" This moment marks a significant transition for their family, sparking deep reflections about how innate wonder interacts with formal learning environments.
The Journey to School Begins
The recent announcement that "schools are finally re-opening" brought palpable relief to families across Australia, including Saif's volleyball friend Sardar. For Saif's household, this reopening carries special significance as his youngest child, Naveed, embarks on his educational journey for the very first time.
Preparations have involved wandering through shopping centres and uniform shops, equipping Naveed for what feels like a major mission in his young mind. His choices of bold backpacks and superhero-themed drink bottles suggest he believes special powers might be required for this new adventure. Observing these preparations has been both tender and amusing for his father.
The Quiet Beauty of Early Curiosity
During shopping trips to bookstores and opportunity shops, Saif has noticed something quietly beautiful about his son's behaviour. Naveed instinctively drifts toward children's books, already maintaining a small collection at home that he reads aloud to his favourite teddy, Mr Lion. These moments of cross-legged, serious absorption provide grounding observations of natural curiosity in action.
This transition has stirred a question Saif has carried for years: How much of curiosity is innate, and how much is shaped deliberately by those who raise us? His own childhood as a refugee in Pakistan, where material comforts were absent and books were scarce, provides contrasting context to his children's experience in materially comfortable Melbourne.
Family Stories of Learning
Saif recalls how his elder brother developed an extraordinary love for reading and writing despite their challenging circumstances in the 1990s. With no screens or easy internet access, his brother read anything available – old newspapers, battered textbooks, scraps passed between families. His meticulous, elegant handwriting bordered on calligraphy.
After working long factory hours during the day, his brother would read, write, and listen to music on an old Japanese cassette player in the evenings, as if words and sound could hold the world together. This passion eventually led him to become a prolific writer in Afghanistan, shaping powerful stories under conditions of censorship and political collapse.
Curiosity in Contemporary Context
Now raising his own children in Melbourne, Saif observes that their shelves are full, libraries are a weekend habit, and schools are safe, resourced, and predictable – conditions often described as ideal for cultivating young minds. Yet curiosity in their household manifests in strikingly different ways among his children.
One child devours books with questions stretching late into bedtime, while another resists reading in favour of movement, conversation, and observation. A third drifts between deep absorption and complete indifference, while a fourth who was once a class topper now seems more invested in games and anime than schoolwork. Same household, entirely different relationships with learning.
The Parental Role in Nurturing Wonder
Society often suggests that good parenting produces curious children through predictable inputs: reading every night, choosing the right school, limiting screens, and modelling intellectual engagement. However, Saif observes that curiosity doesn't operate on a neat input-output system, though parental encouragement remains crucial.
Early, sustained, belief-driven support can be decisive, particularly for children navigating marginalisation or instability. Someone must notice the spark and protect it long enough for it to grow. Years later, when Saif asked his brother what drew him so fiercely to reading and writing when no one around him seemed to care, the answer was revealing: their late father had encouraged him quietly, consistently, without expectation.
Recognising Individual Learning Paths
Saif recognises that some children arrive in the world with an almost bodily appetite for ideas, engaging with the world differently from the outset. In his own way, Naveed feels different too, particularly in how he communicates – never walking away from conversations halfway through, even when dissatisfied with answers.
His characteristic responses of "Ah, alright" or "Leave it – don't trick me" before calmly changing topics demonstrate attentiveness and presence that suggest particular ways of engaging with the world.
Looking Toward the Educational Journey
As Naveed steps into his first classroom, Saif wonders not only what version of curiosity the Australian education system will recognise in him, but also how his son will navigate his own path. The father contemplates the delicate balance between nurturing and learning to let go, recognising that educational systems must accommodate diverse manifestations of curiosity.
This reflection comes from Shadi Khan Saif, an editor, producer, and journalist who has worked in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Germany, and Australia, bringing international perspective to questions of education and childhood development.
