by
Craig McNaughton

(Pictured in the middle)

"Millions" is the factor commonly used to measure illiteracy or literacy - certainly at the international level, but even here in Canada where there are only a few million people to worry about in the first place.

Combined with the 1991 Census, the International Adult Literacy Survey (IALS) produces the sobering estimate that 5 million Canadian adults are working at the lowest level of literacy. Many of those people have serious trouble, for instance, reading the labels on medicine bottles. Another 6 million or so are at level 2 in the IALS ranking; with about 7 million at level 3 -- an average level of competence that seems to correspond roughly with a general high school education.

It is truly phenomenal (and a little discouraging) that a quarter of the Canadian adult population is at level one. But the fact that only one in ten of us (roughly 2 million out of 20 million) has the top-drawer skills needed for success in Canadian society is the more shocking statistic. A society that pins its growth strategy on success in the knowledge-based economy has to take the ability to access and communicate knowledge much more seriously.

But sobering though "millions" is, that measure misses much of the point. "One" is far more persuasive to anyone who has worked one on one with someone trying to break through a literacy barrier. The human heart connects naturally and powerfully with the drama of one person fighting huge odds and - often enough - winning through. The literacy community in Canada includes some truly amazing adult learners who have, through sheer grit and determination, overcome incredible abuse, indifference and discrimination to become literacy champions. Those remarkable individuals will in turn tell you about the vastly empathetic tutors and teachers who were their friends, confidants and allies when it counted.

But for all its power, "one" is too small a number. From the standpoint of improving our communities, building our country, and helping to stabilize the world around us, "one" risks being disconnected charity. "Tens" and "hundreds" are the rungs we need to climb to move up from the energy and conviction of "one" to confront the massive problem represented by "millions."

We need to figure out literacy solutions that move efficiently from the one we know to the ten who show up at the door of a community literacy class looking to find places. We need to respond, for example, to the 200 people who are currently on a two-year waiting list to get into the fabulously successful literacy class at 181 Higgins Street in Winnipeg.

It's one thing to wonder how to convince millions of people that they should improve their literacy. But why do we make hundreds of serious students wait? Why do we put successful adult education programs at risk? If people say they are ready and willing to learn, let's give them a chance to learn.

We are a society that understands the power of a good education. We know that literacy is one of the most effective remedies for the social, economic and political ills that trouble us. Common sense tells us that not everyone has enjoyed the same advantages in life -- that some of us desperately need that "second chance." So any citizen who works up the desire and fortitude needed to tackle a program of study should have our immediate support to do so.

We have built the stadium. They are now arriving in their hundreds. Let's not drop the popcorn.

**** Craig McNaughton is Executive Director of the Movement for Canadian Literacy (see www.literacy.ca for information on MCL). The opinions expressed in this article are not necessarily MCL's. The program at 181 Higgins Street is run by Aboriginal Literacy Foundation Inc., which received the Manitoba Lieutenant Governor's Medal for Literacy in 1997. You may reach the author at cmcnaughton@literacy.ca