SF:Secrets, rattling the
souls of characters, are the heart of mysteries. I wondered if I could
write mysteries as soon as I started reading Nancy Drew, but kept this goal a
secret. Obsessed with reading, I loved entering worlds nothing like my own. I
was wary of any who suggested this obsession might be odd – whether it was the relatives
who worried about my eyes and social life or the children who teased me as a bookworm.
Wise teachers often advise, Worry about the quiet ones, and that applied to my
childhood. No need for detail here, just take my word for it. I grew up
headstrong and competitive – a radical reader on the hunt for the best ideas in
living.
So like most writers, I regard
illiteracy as a terrifying trap. The definitions of illiteracy are many. The CIA World Factbook tracks literacy rates, and the US ranks high. Yet other
assessments suggest that at least one out of six Americans, maybe more, has minimal literacy. Whether they can read
only a little or not at all, many adults devote considerable effort into hiding
this deficit.
At first, strong readers
might shrug, feeling relief it’s not their child. But it’s a mistake to think
we can glide through modern life unaffected by others’ struggles with literacy.
Consider the manufacturing employee who can’t read warnings on labels, mixing the wrong chemicals and releasing a gas that injures co-workers or home health aides
earning minimum wage who can’t follow directions on medication packages or equipment. Too many legislators and citizens don’t read bills before the votes are cast. And then there was
the subprime mortgage debacle, with thousands of homebuyers trusting loan officers on
unrealistic and unaffordable terms, signing toxic contracts that eventually
threatened the global economy.
No agency keeps tabs on
mistakes linked to illiteracy, yet one estimate suggests the problem costs the US economy about $225 billion per year. And literacy is linked to security: The US
military has promoted literacy since the Revolutionary War, when General George
Washington directed military chaplains to teach soldiers reading and other
basic skills. Reading and writing, early steps to seducing the hearts and minds
of others through the arts, are tools of power, suggests Robert Greene in The
48 Laws of Power, a book purchased by my
son before he attended high school and since abandoned to my basement
bookshelves. Those who belittle education and reading would deny others power.
Some illiterate adults
have grown up in families and communities that devalue and resent education,
trapping generation after generation. Some students were bullied into rejecting
reading, and others do the bullying themselves. Some grow up feeling alone and
stupid only to discover a learning disability long after school years have ended.
Others know that seeking help as an adult takes courage and fiercely rally their children and
grandchildren to read and avoid a humiliation that’s so often a motivation for violence.
Not long after reading The Color Purple by
Alice Walker, I responded to a local
literacy organization’s call for volunteers. Dozens of adults were waiting for
individual tutors in the small town, and the program was unusual in that volunteers
didn’t need special credentials. Instead, we were encouraged to create a safe starting
point for raising awareness and encouraging clients to enter more formal
literacy classes and GED programs. In a
small town, these illiterate adults refused to join others in a classroom and
divulge their secrets. Gossip was rampant, and as a reporter for the daily
newspaper, I was a major purveyor. The director emphasized confidentiality.
My first student, a
laborer at a seafood plant, refused to meet anywhere but his kitchen and only
when his family wasn’t at home. My second student was a prominent businessman.
He agreed to meet in the public library after developing an elaborate story
about hiring me for a writing project. These men were ashamed, skilled at
dodging any scenario or questions about anything associated with the written
word.
Those who can’t share
our passion for reading are vulnerable, accustomed to a life of heartbreak and
confusion. Poverty, lay-off notices, foreclosures, divorce, illness or arrests
often derail plans for adult learners. The program’s director had many resources,
but encouraged us to build trust and develop strategies for clients to pursue,
preparing them if our meetings were to end abruptly.
Every life is a story,
and yet, suggested Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The most wonderful inspirations die with their subject if he has
no hand to paint them to the senses.” Reading and writing help us craft better
lives. Catching up with reading as an adult is grueling and time-consuming. Many spend
their lives hiding desires and talent or risk teasing or bullying – another side to this story. Secrets about an activity taken for
granted by so many – reading – can be a matter of life and death in other parts
of the world and in some communities of the United States.
So let me ask, fellow
readers, has there been a time when you felt compelled to keep your own reading
a secret?
Susan
Froetschel taught writing at Yale
University and magazine writing and literacy journalism at Southern Connecticut
State University. She’s now consulting editor for YaleGlobal, an online magazine that explores the global connections
of all types. Fear of Beauty is a
culmination of years of volunteering in reading programs and imagining growing
up in a community without books.












