When we look at literacy in terms of social construct, we can strip away the individuals problems with literacy.  Reading a book or writing a paper does not necessarily prepare one for life in the social world.  It harkens back to the idea of “functional literacy.”  Rather than viewing literacy as the ability to read a novel in a few hours time, or to effectively wade through the frustrating waters of ethnographies, graduate level research papers, and other scholarly writing in a single night without breaking a sweat or having a panic attack, it becomes a matter of what is necessary in order to live a happy and full life.  Perhaps those are words I’m applying a bit liberally here: “happy and full.”  But it is the best way I can think to put it.  Not everyone needs to be a speed reader to be able to enjoy life.  More than a few people would cry at the idea that they were being forced to reread Ernest Hemingway or John Steinbeck (I can’t blame them.  Even I, who love literature and reading, can’t stomach that idea).

But on the flip-side there are people like a friend of mine, who hates reading of any sort.  It is not because she cannot read; she simply dislikes it.  She is a perfectly “literate person.”  She could pick up the newspaper and read the front headlines with ease, even make intelligent comments about it.  Does that make her illiterate?  Hardly.  Functional literacy, as I understand it, refers to the idea of being adequately literate.  If you can read the label of a medication, you might be considered “functionally literate.”

It’s difficult to resign myself to this idea, because I am immediately forced to say that they are “literate enough,” as though being functionally literate falls somehow short of the mark.  This, of course, is not the case.

Functional literacy simply means that a person has enough literacy to live safely in this world.  They can read street signs, map keys, medication labels, instructions manuals, anything which is a necessary part of life.  An ethnography is not a necessary part of life for, shall we say, “normal” people.  A working stiff has no reason to come home a sift through a scholarly textbook anymore than an anthropologist needs to come home and operate a forklift.  If we continue to use this metaphor, we get this:

A working class stiff is “illiterate” because he is incapable of reading a scholarly text.  Equally, an anthropologist is without skill, as they cannot operate a forklift.  Neither of these things pertain to the social construct each of these people live within.  As Einstein said, “Everybody is a genius.  But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

My name is Alexandra Moreno- Ali for short.  I started out my educational career in Santa Cruz at Cabrillo college, then transfered to San Francisco where I briefly studied film.  A year and a half later I moved home for some soul searching, and landed on English.  I’ve been writing fiction since sixth grade, though as a hobby.  It has only been recently that I made the decision to turn my hobby into my life, and pursue a career as a full writer and possibly a professor.

I read whatever happens to catch my fancy at the time.  This semester I am reading mostly out of the Norton Anthology of American Literature and the Broadview Anthology of British Literature, but other than that I read whatever I feel like.  Fantasy, Mystery, Literary Fiction.  My writing is just as eclectic.  Most recently I have been writing Fantasy, before that Mystery.

Reading and Writing academically is part of a pursuit of knowledge, the desire to learn and broaden my understanding of the world.  Fiction is often out of that same desire, but it may also be an escape from that world.  When you think about it, reading is somewhat akin to reading someones mind.  At some point, a writer sat down and painted a picture in words, created a world that didn’t exist before. As a reader, you can jump into that world and submerse yourself in it.

Szwede brings up the interesting point of context- that is the difference between what we read in school, for school, and what we read outside of the classroom.  He brings up the example of a retarded boy who can read baseball scores.  This reminded me of my cousin who, despite being severely autistic and nearly incapable of communication, reads every sign he passes.  “Exit.” “Pharmacy.” “Freeway.” Though Mateo does not read well in school, or at least struggles with it greatly, he is able to easily pick up words he reads on signs even in new places.  Clearly, Mateo is not illiterate. But the context has changed.

He also makes the point that when instruction relies upon assumptions rather than hard facts, such as that children are being read to at home or that children entering a new class have achieved a certain reading level, it can hinder their learning greatly.  What I took from this is an argument that has been in contention for years- that education cannot be standardized.  Children are not standard, nor are parents or home lives.  By making assumptions and leaping to conclusions about children based upon archaic, outdated models and plans, we risk hindering, rather than helping.