Literacy programs need tremendous
commitment and energy

Southam News national correspondent Peter Calamai spent two months in an adult literacy class at Ottawa's Parkway School to find out first hand who goes, why they go, and what they're feeling. Textbooks explain things like work attack skills and decoding. But they don't prepare an outsider for the tremendous energy that learner and teacher both must invest.

June 4

Adrianna sits right beside the teacher in Room 9 at Ottawa's Parkway School and that alone makes her stand out. But Adrianna is always working too, her face pressed close to a book or fist clenched tightly around a crawling pencil.

"I'm such a slow reader," she mutters after stumbling over a passage. "I have trouble saying the words . . . even after three days." All four adults this week began daily basic literacy classes lasting four hours every morning. In just eight weeks, teacher Donna Dowd will try to help them join the magic circle of readers. I will watch.

They all want to read. Sarah likes the newspaper's lifestyles section, especially "Dear Abby and the people who croak." Adrianna, the Bible. Lionel, a French-Canadian in his 20s, wants to read about animals while a middleaged Lebanese woman will settle for "anything".

Textbooks explain things like word attack skills, language experience, decoding, storytelling. But they don't prepare an outsider for the tremendous energy that learna and teacher both must invest.

Donna begins the day with white cards, flashing words like city, switch, pitcha and admit—the "it" combination—and constantly encouraging the learnas as they stumble:"Good, good . . . terrific, wonderful, very good, you've got it . . . don't go getting frustrated there." With lots more encouragement, Donna has the Lebanese woman dictate her experiences wallpapering a room, writing each simple sentence on an overhead projector.

June 8

The learners labor through the wallpapering story, now photocopied on sheets. I point out they skipped reading "The End." "We know where to stop," Sarah flashes. "We're not that stupid."

June 15

"Take Pride In What You Do," says the sign at the front of Room 9, dark blue letters stenciled on light blue paper.

It's someone else's story the learners read now, a moralistic tale of Sally and Jim who got married on little more than love. And the white flash cards are for "ay"—may, tray, stay, spray.

At coffee break, Adrianna hauls out a large jar of piddled peppers, yellow and red and pink and orange curls and wedges — beautiful enough for the Museum of Modan Art.

"You said you liked hot foods," she says, presenting it.

Carrying the jar, I bump into an agitated Joyce White, who runs Parkway School and other adult education projects for the Ottawa Board of Education.

July 2

The Room 9 class has been split up. Adrianna and I have come to Room 3 where her cataract troubles again win the seat nearest the teacher. The six others in the class are 20 lessons ahead in spelling and stronger readers; they sail into a Canada Day story written by one of Parkway's celebrated authors, John Tourangeau, a learner himself: "Canada is still growing and one day everyone will wish they lived here. All Canadians are allowed to believe in which ever religion they prefer." Most stumble over "allowed" and "religion," induding Adrianna. But even an outsider can see the progress in just four weeks and sense the excitement. The magic circle of readers suddenly seems within reach for one struggling Jamaican woman.

"Yes, now I am hungry for words," she tells the teacher.