This blog is adapted from my conversation with Barbara Nixon on the "Smash Your Own Ceiling" podcast, where I shared how constraint became advantage and one hour weekly became a global movement.

A little boy in Gloucester wanted to solve the Middle East conflict in his story. His friend turned to him: "Seriously, how on earth are you gonna do this?"

"Well, we're gonna sit down and have a cup of tea. And at the end we're going to have a pizza party."

The whole class ended up debating whether you should have pineapple on pizza.

But they weren't afraid to take on big topics.

That's what happens when you give children permission to be the heroes of their own stories. When you stop forcing them to compete with iPads and let them discover the entertainment was within them all along.

465 children across nine schools. 100% engagement. Including the "reluctant writers" schools said was unreachable.

And it all started because I was given one hour weekly on FaceTime with my son, and I refused to waste it.

The Realisation About One Hour

I was mocked in court. How on earth was I going to talk to a 10-year-old for an hour?

I remember thinking: I know exactly how to speak to my son for an hour.

But a few months in, something dawned on me. Gabriel had done martial arts since he was tiny, about an hour weekly. He'd swim competitively, about an hour weekly. I learned to swim an hour weekly, half an hour weekly most of the time.

It suddenly hit me: don't underestimate the power of that hour if you use it well.

That realisation increased my level of trust in our connection. I had an hour. One intentional hour.

Then I started meeting other mothers in similar situations, and I found gratitude. Gratitude in Gabriel's age, that he's old enough to sustain FaceTime contact for an hour. Gratitude that we do have communication. Gratitude that I know where he is.

The situation is awful. I'm not trying to make it sound okay because it's not okay.

But once I started finding gratitude and appreciation for what we did have, it helped me get out of victim mode into: right, you're gonna do something. This is gonna get constructive.

From Shell-Shocked to Storytelling

In the very early days, we were both completely shell-shocked. At the very beginning, all I did was read. I just picked up a book, Michael Morpurgo's Puffin Keeper, very illustrated, and read it to him like Jackanory.

We weren't spending the hour talking about the situation we were in. We touched base, then we read the book together.

Gabriel had always loved stories. When he was a baby, he just wanted to be read to and read to and read to. In the car, audio books. He's not a great writer, like most boys, it's not his favourite activity, but he loves consuming stories.

After Puffin Keeper, he wanted to read to me. We played pen and paper games, noughts and crosses, hangman, or a game where I'd draw two contrasting things like "Batman on Christmas Day" and he'd have to guess.

Then we read an illustrated copy of Treasure Island. The protagonist is called Jim, Granddad's name.

At the end, I don't even know where this flash of inspiration came from, but I just said: "Gabriel, should we make up a story where you are the hero?"

Of course the answer was instantly yes.

I think that's in part because we had this shared connection through stories. Even when he was old enough to read to himself, he'd wanted a bedtime story. My mum reminded me she'd read to my brother and me until we finished junior school, we'd have a family story, then go to our rooms and read our own books.

But even without that history, I've been to nine schools now. I've asked 465 children: "Would you like to be the hero of your own story?"

I've not had one child say no yet.

"Mum, It's a Book"

Gabriel instantly said: "Yes, I want to defeat a sea monster." He started describing what he wanted. I just scribbled notes as he talked on FaceTime.

The following week I'd type it up, realise there were gaps, I don't know what this sea monster is called, so I'd prepare. I'd have a brainstorm of name ideas ready. Not with a blank mind, but prepared so we could use our hour intentionally.

I'd read the story back to him. He'd add his edits. Granddad illustrated using AI art. Gabriel would choose the pictures.

This went on for about eight weeks. Six short stories. Complete mess on my desktop.

I put them into one Word document just to see my desktop again. Completely private project, I was thinking about Charles Dickens writing columns that built up to books. I'd type it up weekly and post it to Gabriel in a plastic wallet.

I turned my iPad around and showed him: "Look Gabriel, they're all in one place now."

Instantly: "Mum, it's a book. It's a book."

In my mind I'm thinking: yeah, right. On what planet did I have the right to write a book? Mrs. Robinson, my old head mistress, God bless her, would never believe this was possible with the amount of red pen she scribbled on my work.

But we're in such a terrible situation. I didn't say that.

"It's a book, Mum. It's a book."

"Okay, Gabriel. Okay. I'll see if I can get two printed, one for you, one for Gran and Granddad."

"No, Mum. It's a book. It's a REAL book."

Because Gabriel was so insistent, I sent it to people who actually know something about children's literature. A retired head teacher from Bradford who'd been at school with my mum. A child psychologist I knew in the US.

Both came back with the same message: "Get this out now. There's nothing where children's imagination is being shared with other children."

So we did. Kevin helped us self-publish and get it on Amazon as a real book.

"Mum, Use All Your Skills"

At some point Gabriel said something I'll never forget: "Mum, use all your skills."

I had to reflect: what does that mean?

I used to be a rower, an elite athlete. If I could metaphorically put myself back in the boat, I knew how to win. When you're rowing, you point, go, keep going however much it hurts. You always cross the finish line. The pain does end at some point.

When Gabriel said "use all your skills," I thought: right, I'm getting back in the boat with everything. All my skills.

But this time I can't quit.

As a student rowing, we'd got through GB trials to selection for Commonwealth Games. That coincided with my finals at university. I panicked and quit.

I knew the regret of quitting.

In hindsight, if I'd sat down with somebody and got organised, I probably could have done both. I'd got that far doing both. I just needed to get organised. I didn't. I panicked and quit.

So I was aware: my weakest link is overwhelm. Me getting swamped and panicking.

Right. I've made the decision, I'm not quitting this time. So I've got to find ways to manage it all.

The Decision That Changes Everything

There's power in a decision. Everything starts with a decision.

Once you've decided, that's your North Star. That's the postcode in your GPS. You're not deviating from that. It's set in stone. Your flag in the sand.

I decided: I'm not quitting. I cannot quit.

That meant accepting my weakness, overwhelm is my Achilles heel. So when the right person offered help, I said yes.

A friend who's a project manager offered an hour weekly just to keep grips on things. That stops me being completely overwhelmed, and it's only a tiny ask on them.

You've got to make the decision. Then use all your skills. Say yes to offers of help that come.

How to Get Out of Bed When Everything Hurts

Barbara asked me the question people always ask: "How do you do it? How do you find the chink in your armour when you've just had enough?"

For me: exercise. It doesn't have to be running, I'd lost the ability to run, couldn't get momentum in my body. But I could walk.

Every single morning I'd go for a walk. Didn't matter if it was just around the block. Without doubt, I'd come back feeling better.

I didn't set an alarm clock, took some pressure off. Didn't worry about time, speed, distance. Just about getting some movement, tuning out, letting my head switch off while my body moved.

If I did it in the morning, I felt like I'd set myself up better for the day. You've achieved something.

Then I'd have one goal a day. Just what's the one thing you've got to get done today? End of the day, you've won the day.

It feels like military-grade psychological warfare. You've got to get yourself into a state where you're prepared to handle that. The enemy would let you crash. That's not gonna happen.

But you've got to get yourself out of bed. And the enemy can be your own fear, your own demons. You've got to face them.

The Friend Who Put Me in Rehab

One friend, I won't say her name because she's very introverted, but she trained as a physio with me, recognised I was really on my knees.

"Get on the train. Come stay with me."

I stayed with her about two weeks. It was like being in rehab.

Every morning: "Right Kate, you're going swimming. Off you go."

"Tonight Kate, I'm cooking dinner. Tomorrow you're cooking dinner. Remember to get the vegetables on the way home."

We took turns. Proper dinners. Glass of wine. Just that reminder of getting back into a normal routine.

Yes, I'd got back into a routine, but it wasn't normal. Two weeks of that, follow these rules, do as you're told, got me back on track.

During the day I took a desk at a coworking space near her. Got done what needed doing.

What a gift.

Nobody's gonna rescue you. But people will help you. People will help you.

When Children Connect Across Borders

Gabriel appears on screen in every classroom we visit. We've recorded a one-minute video over FaceTime where he says hello, looks forward to hearing their stories, reminds them anything's possible.

The children connect straightaway: "Hang on, he's like us. If he can do it, we can do it."

It takes down so many barriers.

At Foxhill school, most beautiful school in the country with a view over Yorkshire that's stunning, a boy said: "Why are we all reading celebrities' books? Why aren't we reading books written by other children?"

Brilliant question.

They knew they'd have their own school book, The Adventures of Foxhill. They knew other Bradford schools were creating their own school books. "Why can't I read the books from Manningham? Why can't Manningham read my book? We don't need celebrities writing for us. Get out our way."

Amazing.

So we created a digital library of children's books.

Then at a school in Gloucester, one little boy wanted to resolve the Middle East conflict in his story. His friend: "Seriously, how on Earth are you gonna do this?"

"Well, we're gonna sit down and have a cup of tea. And at the end there's a pizza party."

The whole class debated whether you should have pineapple on pizza.

They weren't afraid to take on big topics.

Stories Without Borders

This week I had conversations with international education leaders about extending our platform so children can share stories across borders.

Not just children in Bradford sharing across the city. Children in Bradford sharing with children in Islamabad. Children in Australia. Toronto. Across the world.

465 stories already created. Request for more.

Stories publish every Wednesday, children's own words, some illustrated by themselves, some recorded on Bradford Community Radio, some I've recorded.

I suspect it won't be long before we have one going out every day.

We're creating a global platform of stories across borders.

What I Want You to Hear

Listen to the full podcast episode with Barbara Nixon on "Smash Your Own Ceiling" to hear:

• The exact moment I realised one hour was enough
• How finding gratitude in hell got me out of victim mode
• Why "mum, use all your skills" became my mission
• The weakness I had to face (overwhelm and quitting)
• How to win the day when everything hurts
• The friend who put me in rehab for two weeks
• Why children don't need to compete with iPads
• The boy who wanted to solve Middle East conflict with tea and pizza

🎧 Listen Now: https://www.barbaranixon.co.uk/podcast/
📱 Available on YouTube: https://youtu.be/7IBeu4miagA?si=DabIEwG7RrP6AMzn

Where We Are Now

Weekly publication of children's authentic stories at www.storieswithoutborders.com 

Growing internationally: Canada, India, Australia, Pakistan inquiries active

This December: 31 children's stories publishing daily at www.theadventuresofgabriel.com

Connect With Kate

LinkedIn: Kate Markland
Website: www.katemarkland.com (links to Gabriel's books and Stories Without Borders)
Books: The Adventures of Gabriel available on Amazon

"You've got to make the decision. Then use all your skills. Say yes to help. Nobody's gonna rescue you. But people will help you."

Listen to Barbara's full podcast episode: https://www.barbaranixon.co.uk/podcast/

Because sometimes one hour weekly becomes a global movement. Sometimes constraint drives innovation. And sometimes a mother and son prove that when you refuse to quit, you don't just survive, you create something extraordinary.