Literacy Tutors Use More Than Words

Her husband was so outraged when he found out she was learning to read that she called her tutor to ask where she could find refuge until he cooled down.

Estelle Rosenthal of the South Coast Literacy Council says the tutor referred the frightened Orange County woman to a shelter for battered wives. The woman decided to spend the night with a relative instead, but now she knows where to go if she ever needs to escape again.

With that information tucked away, she returned home and continued her studies in spite of her husband’s anger.

Rosenthal acknowledges that this is an extreme example of how one partner’s desire for self-improvement can threaten the other, especially when someone who needs to dominate faces the possibility of losing control. But she says it’s not unusual for much less domineering spouses to be unsettled by the giant step toward independence this man’s wife took when she called (714) 493-3800 to say, “I want to learn.”

A longtime literacy advocate and tutor, Rosenthal has seen many couples struggle to make adjustments in the way they relate to each other as one partner experiences the growth that comes with learning.

“The danger in any relationship is that one spouse will grow while the other stays pretty much the same,” observes Rosenthal, who is vice president of programs for the South Coast Literacy Council.

Often, she says, the underlying fear is that the person who conquers illiteracy will “become self-supporting and choose a different kind of life.”

Although she understands that fear, Rosenthal says the insecurities of spouses only make it more difficult for adults who have never mastered their native language to come out of hiding and ask for help.

She says the South Coast Literacy Council’s volunteer tutors provide as much TLC as instruction, because they know how frustrated and humiliated their adult students feel--especially if they aren’t getting support at home.

“These are wounded people,” Rosenthal explains. “There’s always that feeling of, ‘I was a dumb kid . . . ‘ They’re terribly embarrassed and intimidated. They need a lot of nurturing.”

According to Rosenthal, about 20% of the native English speakers in this country are functionally illiterate; that is, unable “to read and write at a level required to function competently.”

Of the some 2,000 students being tutored by the nonprofit literacy council’s 500 volunteers, only 70 are native English speakers. The rest are studying English as a second language.

The native English speakers who seek tutoring are few in number, Rosenthal says, because of the stigma that says, “If you’re not educated, you’re a bad person.”

That stigma drives most illiterate adults to find ways to compensate--and mates who will cover for them--instead of working to acquire the skills they lack. Meanwhile, they live with the fear of being discovered by friends, co-workers, employers and even family members.

While many relationships are tested when an illiterate--and overly dependent--adult finds the courage to seek help, the process of learning to read and write can be liberating for both student and spouse.

That’s the way it worked out for Karl and Bonnie Hawley of Costa Mesa. Karl, who is 47 and says he graduated from high school with second-grade level reading skills, admits that until he started working with a tutor about four years ago, “I depended on my wife for everything.”

Because Karl wasn’t able to write checks, Bonnie handled all the household finances--a responsibility that weighed on her because she didn’t enjoy managing money and didn’t always do it to her husband’s satisfaction.

Bonnie, who dated Karl in high school and admits she did some writing assignments for him, also helped him get--and keep--jobs. She says she completed employment applications for him and, when he came across a task at work that he couldn’t figure out, she read instructions from machine shop manuals to him by phone.

Karl says he had enough natural mechanical ability to keep his employers and co-workers from finding out he could hardly read or write. But that became more difficult as his work world went high-tech. When he had to start learning computer systems, he found he could no longer get by without reading the instruction manuals himself.

Karl, who says he was always a poor student but squeezed by because he “fell through the cracks” in an overcrowded system, tried to get his wife to teach him to read, but that only created tension between them.

“I would get frustrated,” Bonnie says. “It seemed so easy to me. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t grasp it.”

But once Karl started weekly sessions with a tutor using the renowned Laubach method of adult instruction, he made steady progress. Although he often wishes he could learn more quickly, the results he’s seen so far have motivated him to keep studying.

Karl, who would like to eventually become a tutor himself, still has too much difficulty reading to find it fun. “I read to learn things; maybe one day I’ll find the enjoyment in it,” he says.

Meanwhile, he’s enjoying a sense of accomplishment as he takes on more household responsibilities. He now handles the family finances and helps with the grocery shopping. And he no longer has to ask his wife of 26 years to read maps, road signs, instruction manuals, newspapers, catalogues or the TV listings for him.

Bonnie admits she felt burdened by his dependence on her. Again and again, whenever he felt overwhelmed by a task, Karl would tell her, “You do it. You can read--I can’t.” And she would.

“There’s a lot less pressure on me now--and you should see the difference in my husband,” Bonnie says.

“I’ve become a lot more independent,” Karl explains. “I thought that would bother her, but it doesn’t.”

On the contrary, Bonnie says, their relationship is stronger now--not only because their roles are more balanced but because her husband feels better about himself.

Stacy and Allen, an Orange County couple in their early 30s who asked for anonymity, have also seen their relationship change as a result of one partner’s determination to overcome illiteracy. Like the Hawleys, they feel they’re growing stronger as a couple. But in the beginning, Allen’s reading difficulties nearly drove them apart.

The discovery that Allen was functionally illiterate shocked and disturbed Stacy. It was something he had managed to hide even from the parents who put him through private schools, but Stacy began to suspect he had a reading problem soon after they started dating.

At first, she wondered why he mispronounced so many street names and items on menus, a habit she found acutely embarrassing. Then one day she asked him to help her study by reading the questions on a practice exam; he moved his finger slowly across the page as he tried to sound out the words with little success.

Even then they didn’t talk about it. Allen, who often used anger to avoid acknowledging his illiteracy, lashed out at Stacy for putting him on the spot, so she didn’t push him for an explanation.

But after the check he wrote to pay for their honeymoon was returned to Stacy because the travel agent couldn’t read it, she did confront him. During a weekend of counseling at a church retreat just before their 1987 wedding, he told her he couldn’t read.

He explained how he had managed to get through school, mostly with Cs and Ds, by cheating on tests and asking friends to edit his papers. He also listened carefully to lectures to pick up information he wasn’t able to get from textbooks. And he excelled in math.

“I had to be strong in other areas to cover my terrible reading skills,” he says.

He grew up in a large family and changed schools frequently because his dad was in the military. He kept falling behind in English, but no one was paying close enough attention to realize what was happening. He says he was never required to read aloud.

After Allen had shared his long-held secret with his bride-to-be, she helped him find a tutor. He has been learning to read and write for the past four years. And now the auto mechanic who learned his trade by studying photographs in instruction manuals also spends three nights a week in community college business classes. He expects to graduate next June and hopes to get into advertising.

“I’ve gotten really good at reading,” he says proudly.

His writing is improving, too.

“We fight every time he writes a paper and I go over it,” Stacy says, noting that her husband still has problems with grammar.

“She takes out the sentences I like the best,” he complains.

Stacy says watching her husband face illiteracy has forced her to examine the stereotypes with which she was raised. She says she used to worry about what her highly educated friends would think when Allen mispronounced words. And she remembers a “sinking feeling” that day he tried to give her the practice test but couldn’t read the questions.

She explains: “It was a turn-off to me. It made me look down on him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to date him.

“People consider those who can’t read dumb; I always did. Now I know it’s just a vicious stereotype.”

Stacy says she’s beginning to feel challenged by her husband’s growth. He doesn’t need her the way he used to.

For example, he used to hang back from the crowd at parties and she’d stay at his side to make sure he didn’t get caught in an embarrassing situation.

“Now he holds his own in conversation,” Stacy says.

Allen has gained enough confidence to start encouraging his wife to finish college and find a satisfying career. Stacy, who has left secretarial work and is trying to figure out what she wants to do next, says watching her husband find himself through literacy has been both exciting and “a little threatening.”

“I used to feel superior to Allen, more intelligent,” she admits. “I used to feel in control. But then the tables started to turn. As he’s progressed, our relationship has become more equal.”