Engaging young learners in English:

Age-appropriate methods and materials

Annotation:

This article explores effective strategies as well as age-appropriate materials for engaging young learners in English. It highlights have storytelling, creative activities and emotional encouragement can build confidence and interest in English at early ages. This paper also gives some information about the benefits of songs and playful routines improving communication skills in learning a second language.

Key words:

age-appropriate methodologies, play-based methods, learning strategies, activities, English language teaching.

Introduction

It is obvious that it can be both interesting and difficult to teach English to young children. Cause you know that almost every child do not want to pay more attention to learn something for a long time. Especially when it comes to learning English through ordinary learning methods like memorizing and repeating new vocabulary words. This seems chaotic to children and they want to stop.

But at the time, there are plenty of new teaching methods like playing games in English or watching English cartoons instead of only repeating new vocabulary words again and again. That is the reason why this article is based on learning the English language in the young learner’s academic life. Moreover,  this paper will analyze the effect of games in English and show the mastery of learning English without any difficulty. 

Methods:

The role of games :

Playing games in English can be an effective tool for developing children’s speech and improving their pronunciation. First of all, this method helps them not to feel bored. As a result, they can train in English for hours with huge interest. 

Using from modern technologies in learning language :

It is clear that modern technologies are becoming popular among the population , especially in the life of young ages . These kind of multimedia tools are really essential for capturing the attention for young learners. Short videos and interactive games always attract them and so if we use from them in the right way , for example , in teaching , it gives us lots of benefits and we can achieve success in teaching English to beginners. Cause you know that it seems more interesting for young children to learn the second language through media than ordinary methods. 

Conclusion 

Games-based learning is one of the most effective ways to teach English to young learners. 

Furthermore, by encouraging motivation, enhancing vocabulary acquisition, improving speaking skills, and leading to greater educational success in general, games offer a dynamic, fun, and creative alternative to traditional methods of teaching. 

The databases can be integrated into educators’ curriculum with the assistance of these approaches that will facilitate the improvement of language in the academic life of young children.

References:

1. Cameron, L. (2001). Teaching Languages to Young Learners. Cambridge University Press.

2. Brewster, J., Ellis, G., & Girard, D. (2002). The Primary English Teacher’s Guide. Penguin English.

3. “The Benefits of Using Games in Language Teaching.” British Council

Future linguist | Article writer

Debate Speaker 

Dilshoda Jurayeva, born on January 30,2008 in Jondor, Bukhara region of Uzbekistan, is a diligent language learner.

She began her academic journey at school No. 25 and this year she graduated from the school with good grades. During her school years she achieved to Cefr with English and national certifications in Mother Tongue and History. Then, she was accepted to the faculty of philology and teaching languages of Bukhara State University with the maximum score – 189.

She is an active member of the Ibrat debate project. Besides that, she has participated in various online/offline projects like SwapUp and Yk as a participant in her school years.

“The Clinging Bird” Novel in the Eyes of Uzbek Readers
Abstract: The Clinging Bird is a priceless work that has gained wide popularity not only among the Turkish people but also across the world. The development of its plot, the lives of its characters, and the depiction of social relationships are presented in an impressively emotional way, making it a unique novel that can captivate readers of all ages. This article reflects on the events and characters in the story, as well as the interpretation of its moral conclusions.
Keywords: The Clinging Bird, Kamran, Feride, author, unique, novel, work

One of the leading figures in Turkish literature and a spiritual successor of progressive Turkish thinkers, Reşat Nuri Güntekin, is the author of The Clinging Bird (Çalıkuşu) — a novel that equally captivates readers of all generations. The novel vividly portrays how a person can stay strong and resilient through both good and bad times, the importance of love for the homeland, parents, partners, and family, as well as deep human values. The main essence of The Clinging Bird is as follows:

Main Character – Feride:
Feride, the central figure of the novel, loses her parents at an early age and faces many difficulties. She grows up in the care of her grandmother and aunts and attends a French boarding school. At the threshold of adulthood, a sudden betrayal from someone close causes her to leave home. She begins working as a teacher, meeting many people, influencing their lives, and ultimately transforming her own.

Theme of Love:
The novel focuses heavily on the love between Feride and Kamran. Their relationship explores emotions such as love, separation, sorrow, and hope.

Social Life Scenes:
The novel reflects the lifestyle, traditions, struggles, and transformations of early 20th-century Turkish society. Events during World War I are also depicted.

Hardships and Struggles:
Feride faces many life challenges — loneliness, social pressure, and romantic struggles — but she perseveres and continues with her life.

Additionally, the novel reveals the place of women in Turkish society at the time, the dynamics between men and women, and the clash between traditional values and modernity. A distinctive feature of the novel is its strong female protagonist, vivid portrayal of various Turkish regions, emphasis on education, loyalty, forgiveness, and the tension between old and new values. It deeply explores honesty, patience, and humanity.

The novel appeals to readers of all ages, serving as an example and inspiration. Its events are depicted in such a way that they encompass education, culture, human interactions, social challenges, forgiveness, and emotional resilience — all in one narrative.

The Clinging Bird has been translated into many languages. In Uzbek, it was translated by Mirzakalon Ismoiliy, and the novel has been published multiple times in Uzbek. Written in 1922, the book has won the hearts of readers across the world and has been adapted into several films and TV series. The 2013 television adaptation of The Clinging Bird gained significant popularity. However, the novel remains especially beloved by its devoted readers in its original literary form.

The Clinging Bird, a masterpiece of Turkish literature, can be considered an inspiring and spiritually rich treasure trove that continues to influence writers. It is a deeply meaningful, culturally valuable work that meets the highest artistic standards.

Conclusion:
In conclusion, this beautiful and vivid novel, full of literary richness, problems and resolutions, emotional sincerity, and colorful imagery, is a valuable guide for life. Especially in today’s era of rapid technological advancement, it provides youth with practical lessons and experiences that can be applied in real life.
The Clinging Bird is a deep and touching novel that encompasses various aspects of human life — love, family, social issues, and the fight against adversity.

Yuldasheva Xadichaxon Bahodir qizi was born on January 8, 1993, in Tashkent. Several of her scientific articles and poems have been published in international journals. She is a winner of various competitions held at the national and district levels and a participant in international anthologies. A passionate admirer of literature, science, and art, she was the winner of the “Woman of the Year – 2024” district stage in the nomination “Best Creative Woman of the Year.” She is also a participant in the forum “Best Scientific Researchers of the Year.” Currently, she is a 3rd-year student at the Tashkent University of Humanities.

Costa Rica’s Biosphere 

In Costa Rica’s heart

where mountains rise,

A tapestry of green

before our eyes.

Biosphere’s embrace, 

a sanctuary deep;

Where nature’s 

secrets gently sleep.

Through verdant canopies,

The sunlight streams;

On orchids bright,

And life’s vibrant gleams.

The howler monkeys call,

A primal sound;

As jaguar’s stalk,

On silent paws around.

A dedicate balance,

Life’s intricate art;

A precious treasure,

Held within the heart.

Thief

“Theft is not good for the body”, Proverb

The morning light illuminated the edge of the yard, and Ravshan aka, as always, headed for the barn. Carrying a bundle of hay in his hand, he entered the roof. But… he couldn’t believe his eyes: the yellow cow was gone!

“Maybe it got loose and wandered around the yard,” he consoled himself. But no matter how much he searched, he couldn’t find it. It was as if there was no trace, it had disappeared.

“Jamila!” he called out anxiously. “Who tied the cattle yesterday?”

Jamila answered in a low voice:

“Lutfulla dad, I tied them. But… there’s no cow?”

At that moment, Rustam Baba appeared at the door of the yard. His face was worried, and his eyes were filled with sadness.

“Did you hear that?!” A thief has appeared in the village!

— Oh no! — said Lutfulla. — They stole Akmal’s five chickens!

— Astagfirullah! — said Ravshan aka with a heavy sigh. Could it be that our cow has also fallen into the hands of thieves! They say that thieves are masters of their craft…

Lutfulla looked at the ground and whispered:

— Dad, not even a fly can enter our yard! How can a thief get in? After all, an ox’s jawbone is hung above the tandoor. If a person enters, he will immediately be thrown into the eye…

— Now is not the time for this! — said Ravshan aka, getting angry. The cow that trusted me with my secrets will not come back!

— More stings, hot peppers, eye thorns… — Jamila glared sharply at Lutfulla again. — These protect the yard from misfortunes. Our grandmothers have repeatedly warned us. Oh, don’t interfere in something you don’t understand.

— Ravshan aka, who locked the gate yesterday? — Jamila asked again.

Then Robiya slowly approached:

— Excuse me… I forgot. When I woke up in the morning, the gate was open. I couldn’t say that my brothers had gone out for a run with their friends…

Rustam Baba, he started talking again.

— Someone stole your cow. But don’t rush: someone has been watching your house for a long time, someone did it… They say, “It’s easy to catch a thief from the field, but it’s hard to catch a thief from home.”

Then she turned to Jamila:

— Jamila, hurry up and go to the police station. Only someone who knows would have done this.The morning had not yet dawned, the night was still hanging over the earth, and it was drifting over the village like heavy thoughts. Jamila Yanga, with the anxiety that was tearing at her heart, set off for Sister Zulfiya’s yard. The gentle breeze on the street caressed her face, intensifying the wind of anger in her heart. Sister Zulfiya’s yard was already full of people, everyone was filling their patience cup with their own problems. Jamila Yanga waited. Her legs were shaking, her heart was pounding. Finally, the door opened with a “clack”…

— Ola stole your cattle… your own relative, — said the policeman, breaking the silence that reigned in the yard. — He has been watching you for a month. The day your gate was left open, he accomplished his intention. Now he will sell the cattle to someone who came from Karachay at the Wednesday market. If you don’t believe me, go with your husband and see for yourself. Now, leave your vows and leave.

Jamila Yanga’s heart sank, and the blood drained from her face. She went out into the street and whispered in a daze:

— Really? My own liver, the one I support… How many people have we troubled for this cow… What if her father hears this?

— No, no… — she said to herself. — It’s not for nothing that they say, “A person who steals a needle or loses a cow from someone is suspected”…

The next morning, Ravshan aka and his son Lutfulla set off for the cattle market. They both scattered in two directions and began to look for the cattle.

— Dad, what if what the polvin said turns out to be true?

 — Never mind, my son. If it’s true, this will be the day when the earth will crack and we will be buried. We can’t walk with our heads held high.

In a far corner of the market, Ravshan aka saw a young man holding a cow tightly next to someone who had come from Karacha. He approached cautiously. His instincts were right — it was Jamila Yanga’s nephew.

— This cow is mine. I’m sorry, it’s not for sale. Get out of here quickly! — Ravshan aka said, swallowing his anger.

Lutfulla ran over when he saw his father leading the cattle.

— Dad! Did you find the thief?

— Yes, I did.

— Then show me?

— It’s better that you don’t know you, my son…

— Dad, how many people have we bothered…

— What can I say now? Should I say that my wife’s nephew was stolen? Let the closed pot remain closed.

— Dad, he will be caught one day anyway. Even if you hide it, he will steal again. There is no use in hiding it!

Ravshan aka looked at his son with love. Suffering and the heavy burdens accumulated over the years were visible in his eyes.

— You are still young, my son. One day, you will understand what I have done, — he said, frowning.

When they returned home, Shukr Baba had already arrived, sipping tea. He seemed to have noticed everything.

— But your goods were found in the market. Who stole them? You had half the village investigated. You took up people’s time. You shamelessly suspected even young men who were strangers and came from abroad… Tell me, who was the thief?

Ravshan aka averted his eyes and answered with difficulty:

— I am very tired, Shukr Baba…

— Understandable, so my suspicions were correct. That’s it, be healthy. From now on, don’t forget the gate lock. After all, they say, “The copper of a copper pot will come out, and the smell of the one who closes it will come out.” Everything will be exposed one day anyway.

And Lutfulla, with a broken heart, apologized to all his fellow villagers…

…Six months passed.

While someone was untying the rope of a black ox in the dark courtyard of Zarif aka, who lived in the village of Kiyokli, the owner’s son Azamat caught him and handed him over to the police. This was the same man – Jamila Yanga’s nephew. He swallowed hard and confessed to all the thefts he had committed.

— This is probably what it means when a thief steals and sets off on a journey, and in the end he gets caught…

That day, Shukr Baba said this at a neighborhood meeting:— Ravshanjon kept the secret for six months, but the truth was still revealed. Ravshan deceived so many people. However, the thief was his brother-in-law’s son. Because always be careful of the person who enters and exits your house… It’s not for nothing that they say, “Hold on to yourself, don’t hold your neighbor a thief” _ Shukr Baba…

Abdisattorova Khurshida Suvon qizi was born on November 9, 1997, in the village of Olmazor, Chirakchi district, Kashkadarya region. She is currently a third-year student of Sports Journalism at the University of Journalism and Mass Communications.

Her articles have been published in the newspapers Hurriyat and Vaziyat, as well as on the websites Olamsport and Ishonch. She is also a participant of the international scientific-practical conference titled “Future Scientist – 2025.”

The Star

Noting further the progress 

hope for the widest possible adherence

Inspired by the great prospects 

opening up before mankind 

giant balls of hot gas that shine 

orbital systems 

They fall out of view.

Their envious light

How bright they shine.

The Boat

A loud horn spread through the air

Rumbling the world

Attracting everyone,

To the boat

The ships leaving right now,

With the people

waving up their hands,

Screaming goodbye to the ones left

There runs a man

In a black suit,

Running and running,

Yet the engine starts as the man sighs

The others peak their face out,

Waving goodbye,

To the fellows that are left behind

Hoping for a day to see them again

The boat swooshes,

Through the sea

Vanishing in sight

In a blink

The sound of the waves,

Starting to vanish,

With the people left behind

Sighing with a walk back 

The boat filled with pleasure

Sound of happiness and delight

The laughter and giggles 

filling up the boat.

The Lights in the Night Sky

The light of the stars

Pouring down the sky,

With the waves on the sky

Just like somebody is swimming

The mountains stay up,

High and steady,

The moon,

The lights,

Shining through the buildings

 Making the dark night shine.

There is nothing,

yet the darkness

Within the sky,

The night continues,

And never seems to end

Within the sky.

The light of the sun

Pouring down towards the sky,

The heat touching me everywhere,

Pouring my sweat out.

Feeling the white cotton candy

Floating up in the sky

With a slight comfy.

Just like a bed.

It stays high up, never falling down,

Filling the surroundings,

Blue and pale

With the beauty.

Different shapes exist,

With the different material

All there,

It stands the louds.

Dongeon is currently in 7th grade and attends an international school in Vietnam. He likes to read both graphic novels and chapter books. He also likes to play games and socialize with his friends. 

Regret

Dark, screen lit, wet hair against the pillow

Typed regret in to the blank box

like it would tell me something new

I found were pages full of shadows

‘Sadness’ ‘repentance’ ‘disappointment’ 

Nothing soft, nothing I wanted to see

I place my fingers on the keyboard again

“Does regret ever go away?”

‘Linger for years’ ‘settles deep’

I wasn’t looking for that

Between the Stings 

She eats a popsicle in the back seat

Cold enough to numb her teeth

The car seat burns the back of her thighs

The purple syrup runs down her wrist and onto her elbow

And bruises the carpet beneath her feet

At the pool, kids cannonball too close

The water splashes and stings her eyes

She floats on the water anyways, 

listening to the shrieks muffled underneath the water

While the sun toasts her shoulders 

The barbeque smells like charcoal and spilled soda

Bees hover over the juice pitchers

She watches one of them drown in the lemonade

She regrets not getting another cup

But the chips are salty and good

And the watermelon is cold enough to make up for it

The sun goes down, an orange slouch behind the fence line

The air starts to cool off and her hair is almost dry

She sits back in a sunbed laid out in the middle of the backyard

Someone left a towel bunched in the chair 

It starts to smell

But she uses it as a pillow anyway

Mosquitoes start to come out as the sun disappears completely 

Guests leave the house and the quiet of the night settles in

She heads to the old porch swing that no one ever uses 

She brushes off the twigs and rearranges the cushions 

Only to find an old lollipop melted and smothered into one of the pillows

In the dark, she walks back barefoot,

stepping on something sharp in the grass

It makes her flinch, 

but she just rolls her eyes and keeps walking

She steps on to the cold kitchen tiles and shuts the door behind her

The Silence Between Us

You came back from the hallway trying to get wifi, 

Failed, and layed on your bed 

I kept writing, but couldn’t get anything done

In the corner of my bed, the goose sat still, its neck long and upright

We stayed up till’ late at night, 

our knees on the floor and hands busy on our beds

Trying to finish our bio, history, and English homework at the same time

In the corner of my bed, the goose sat still, it’s fur soft, and an off-white color

The fight started over a misunderstanding, 

Words were said too fast, then nothing for hours

But we both knew that we were going to be okay by tomorrow

In the corner of my bed, the goose sat still, it’s plastic eyes round and black

Facing each other, sitting on our beds with our legs crossed over

We asked a million stupid, hypothetical questions

“If I were a color, what would I be?” “You would be a werewolf if you were in Vampire Diaries”

In the corner of my bed, the goose sat still, it’s bright yellow feet stretched outwards

Irene Kim is a high school student who loves visual art and writing. Her work has been recognized in local exhibitions and school publications. When she’s not drawing or writing, she enjoys reading poetry, walking in the rain, and experimenting with collage. Irene hopes to continue creating work that captures both the quiet and the extraordinary.

Unbearable Bearable 

So it began the unbearable bearable

construction on our avenue

November to April

replacement of gas pipes

started with the hushed posting

of no parking signs

Rumbling of diesel engine

air horn sounding

flashing lights

whisky voice on speaker

attention residents

move your cars or they will be towed!

Then … cutting blade grinding, motor

repetitive, a plaintive sound of destruction

staccato of the beep of the backhoe

Cement cutters up and down the avenue

shrill of the cutting blade, grinding of motor

repetitive and then the beep beep beep of the

backhoe backing up scooping up brick mortar

asphalt. Insistent scraping along curb line, dig dig

dig. Scoop up, percussive dump at end of avenue

on and on all day long up and down

Until….

The bucket picks up the pile, bit by bit

howling into the back of the dump truck

once, twice, thrice, multiple times. Trucks

grinding engine, slamming of bed door

over and over through the day, then a

dulcet sound returns until next morning

when the tow truck sounds again…

And again… day after day

Until …

Stacks of pipe placed along curb line

fill with blowing debris and autumn

leaves. Dirt and sand piles appear at the

end the street, small hills atop the

now battered avenue and in winters wind

sand and dirt batter houses and cars. Then

the pipes are placed, lawns dug up for

connection and gas turned off and after 8

hours in the cold of winter, gas turned on.

And so…

The original flyer said there would be a

community meeting and all would be

restored as it was before construction.

Until…

There was no meeting, brick lined gutters

paved over, hack cement jobs replaced

broken sidewalks and curbs, asphalt patches

and pot holes on avenue … and the lawns

left with craters and dirt.

Unbearable bearable it is over.

 g emil reutter is a writer of poems and stories. He can be found at: https://gereutter.wordpress.com/about/