The idea for this exploration began four years ago during an observation in a Vancouver adult literacy classroom.¹ The class was engaged in a grammar lesson. The teacher had asked the class for a sentence with an object and one of the students volunteered an example. He walked to the front of the class and confidently wrote "I seen the bus" on the chalkboard. It seemed like a good example to the student. The teacher, however, was concerned; although the sentence included an object, the verb was wrong. She corrected the sentence by crossing out the verb, "seen", and substituting the standard verb, "saw". The student was chagrined. He stood at his seat and, pointing to his sentence, demanded to know why "seen" was wrong. He repeated his sentence loudly and with conviction as if to demonstrate its rightness and acceptability; however, the teacher was steadfast in her refusal to accept it, even though the reasons for her refusal were not made clear. It was simply not correct. Other students were also confused. They considered the original version preferable and argued for it; however, their point of view was not accepted. The teacher explained that although they could say "I seen the bus" in conversation with their friends, it was not acceptable in literacy class. As the students filed out of the classroom for the break, they gathered around the offended student and confirmed their disapproval of the incident.

This event left me wondering about the possible impact of this cultural conflict. Would the student interpret the event as a challenge to (and diminishment of) his working class language, culture and identity? Would he decide that the adult literacy classroom was not for him, that the personal costs were too great? Would this result in him dropping out? Or, alternately, would the solidarity of his classmates and his capacity to question and resist the teacher's point of view sustain him?