Literacy Association Opens Doors to New Lives for Its' Students

Editor's note: Last year, I was honored to speak at the Pickens County Literacy Association's Banquet. Below is the speech that I gave. The PCLA's Fall Book Sale is Nov. 16-17. If you can't attend the sale, please consider sending a tax deductible donation to the Pickens County Literacy Association, 117 Johnson St., Pickens, SC 29671. 

Reading has always been a huge part of my life. My parents tell me that I learned how to read when I was 2 and a half years old. Any childhood tantrum I threw could usually be stopped instantly, or at least slowed down, by handing me or reading me a book. 

Books also played a role in my choice of job. When I was about six, my parents asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told them I wanted to be a pizza man.

Fast forward a few years, and I was delivering pizzas.

When I was around 10, I got asked the same question. I answered that I wanted to be a writer. Now I write for the Pickens Sentinel, Easley Progress and The Powdersville Post.

Of course, when I was little, I also said I wanted to be an astronaut. I’m still working on that one.

When I was in junior high, I had a series of surgeries on my wrists and ankles – surgeries that kept me out of school for six weeks at a time.

While recovering, I kept reading – even though it hurt like heck to turn the pages with sore wrists.

While in college, the power in my apartment was once turned off – I’d forgotten to pay the bill that month.

I was in the middle of the new Harry Potter book when it happened. One minute, Harry and his pals were escaping from the evil, dark wizard and his minions, the next minute Jason’s sitting in the dark.

After calling the power company, making a payment and hearing that they’d turn on my power the next morning, I returned to my book. The book I’d really been looking forward to reading.

So I did what I think any sensible person would do, if they had a book begging to be read and a dark apartment in the middle of the night.

I went to Waffle House.

But there’s only so much coffee you can drink and reading you can do before the waitresses and cooks at Waffle House starting looking at you funny, wondering just how long you plan on sitting in that booth.

So I went back to my place. Lights were still out. Book still unfinished. Pages begging to be turned. Harry Potter and his pals in danger.

Some of you probably one of those emergency car repair kits in the trunk of your car. They usually have a can of canned air to fix tires, maybe some tools and an emergency blanket.

And they usually come with glow sticks.

I hustled out to my car, grabbed the glow sticks from the kit and went back inside.

I discovered if you cracked a glow stick, the little green light it provided was just enough to read by, if you slowly roll the glow stick down the page as you read.

When morning arrived, my power was back on, my car kit was all out of glow sticks, I was fast asleep – and the book was finished.

I’ve always been a big fan of scary stories, stories about ghosts and things that go bump in the night. Stephen King is and always have been one of my favorite authors. When he’s really turning on the juice, he’ll have me looking over my shoulder as I read, or getting up to turn on all the lights before I pick the book up again. He writes some of the scariest stories I’ve ever read, and he thinks up some of the scariest things in the world.

But the scariest thing I can think of, didn’t come from Stephen King.

The scariest thing I can think of is not knowing how to read.

I  was lucky. I grew up in a home that placed value on reading, on learning. Even if my parents, busy at their jobs, sometimes didn’t have much time for pleasure reading themselves, they always let us know that learning was something to be valued.

Some people aren’t so lucky. Some parents, some teachers, don’t want to take the time to help their children, or their students. Or they want to help, but there isn’t time after working three jobs, or there are too many kids in their classrooms, and some fall through the cracks of the system – and keep falling, further and further, every year.

I once watched a little boy ask his mother a question. I forget what the question was, but I’ll always remember her answer.

“You’re stupid,” she said. “Why are you so stupid, stupid?”

I’d like to think she was just having a bad day. But I don’t think she was.

I wonder if a seed was planted in that little boy’s mind that day, when his mom spoke to him that way.

I think about him a lot.

I wonder if he believed her or if he set out to prove her wrong.

Some people desperately want to learn to read, but learning disorders hold them back. They grow frustrated, they give up.

There are a lot of ways people can grow up not knowing how to read. And I don’t know what it’s like for them. But I can imagine it.

Without literacy, the simplest core becomes incredibly difficult. Imagine heating up a frozen dinner. That’s not rocket science, right? But imagine doing without instructions.

How would you know to take it out of the microwave wave or oven, pull back the foil or plastic, stir up the contents and put it back in for a few more minutes? Each dinner is different, each with its own instructions.

Without the instructions, you’re going to end up with a burnt dinner, a dinner that’s still cold in the middle – or you’re going to call out for pizza.

Imagine what not knowing how to read robs you of. Imagine not being able to read love letters from your sweetie, Christmas cards from friends, birthday cards from your children and grandchildren?

Imagine not being able to fill out a job application.

Imagine being a new city and not being able to read the street signs.

Imagine being in an airport and not being able to locate your flight.

I think not being knowing how to read would be like stumbling around in the dark all the time. With no glow sticks to help you out.

Many people who don’t know how to read or who have underdeveloped reading skills have developed coping mechanisms to deal with the world.

Some even graduate from high school or college not knowing how to read.

Some people can keep their illiteracy a secret from their families and friends for years – sometimes their entire lives.

But it’s hard living with a secret. Secrets weigh you down. They set you apart from the people you care about.

Some people just give up on reading.

They’re afraid they’ll be made fun of, that people will judge them, that people will humiliate them, so they decide to keep their secret to themselves.

They find someone to write their papers for them in school.

Later in life, they let their husbands or wives handle the bills, write the thank-you letters and Christmas cards.

They decide that learning to read is too hard, that it’s not for them.

They give up on reading.

That’s such a sad thought. You cut yourself off from so much when you do that.

But some people don’t give up. They know they can do it. They just need somebody to help.

It’s hard for me to put into words just how much I admire the people who reach out to the Pickens Literacy Association for help.

Admitting that you don’t know how to read and that you’d like to change takes an enormous amount of courage. I think you’re some of the bravest people in Pickens County.

And thank God the Literacy Assocation is here to help them. To all the Pickens County Literacy Association volunteers who give of their time and of themselves to teach people how to read or how to improve their reading skills: Thank you so much.

You call yourselves tutors and that’s a great word. But I don’t think it really describes what you do. You’re door openers, opening a door for your reading students, a door that’s going to lead to better lives, to a sense of pride and accomplishment, to new achievements.

You’re light bringers, shining a light to help people out of the dark.

You’re mapmakers, leading to people to find not only new places in the world, places they were cut off from because they didn’t know how to read, but helping them find new parts of themselves.

What a wonderful gift you give your students, each and every year, each and every day.

And to all the donors who give to the Pickens Literacy Association: Thank you. Your generosity and commitment to this very worthy cause helps so many people. The money you provide the PCLA purchases the materials the Association uses to help those people. Each contribution means so much, especially in tough economic times like these.

To everyone here, thank you for the role you play in the Pickens County Literacy Association. And I’ll see you at the next book sale.