The Courage to Read

The man who walked into the literacy class was angry.

He was 64, a construction company owner and roughly 300 pounds. He had spent much of his life building things, providing for his family and earning the respect that came with being a working man. But there was something he had managed to keep hidden.

He could not read.

His instructor liked him anyway. She began to understand that the anger was partly a defense, a way of keeping people at a distance so they would not discover what he could not do. Once they broke through that wall, she found someone funny, generous and deeply concerned about his family. He could begin helping his grandchildren with their homework.

For Dr. Amaziah “Dom” Dominic, president of Community Literacy Centers Inc. in Oklahoma, encounters like this one change the scale of the work.

“I realized this is bigger than anything I have worked on,” he remembers.

Community Literacy Centers has been serving adults since 1987. Working alongside Ms. Sharron Jackson, CEO of CLC, and the dedicated CLC staff, Dominic has seen firsthand both the tremendous impact of the organization and the continuing need for adult literacy services in the community. CLC’s free programs include reading, language, computer skills, high school equivalency, and citizenship. Dominic estimates that 750 to 1,000 people use the programs each year, with even more people waiting for help. The people who arrive are not defined by a lack of intelligence. Many have spent years finding ways around something they are embarrassed to reveal.

One man from Ghana, Dominic recalls, could talk to almost anyone about almost anything. He had become so good at hiding his inability to read that people around him had no idea.

“They have masked it so well,” Dominic said.

Eventually, the man reached a third-grade reading level. Dominic remembers the courage it took for him to stand in front of others and read aloud. That courage is at the heart of the work.

There was also a young woman who had dropped out of school after a childhood marked by instability. Her father was in prison. Her mother struggled with addiction. At 19, she entered the literacy program and passed the HiSET in six months. She went on to junior college, where she earned a 4.0, and received a scholarship to the University of Arizona. She wanted to study medicine. Dominic remembers the embarrassment she carried when she first arrived. He also remembers the courage it took for her to eventually stand before others at an awards ceremony and tell her story. She had found the courage to be seen.

Reading is obviously practical. It means being able to fill out a job application, understand workplace documents, follow a doctor’s instructions, manage financial information or help a child with homework.

But the consequences extend beyond the individual.

What does that do for the economic development of our communities? he asks.

Dominic sees literacy as workforce development, community development and economic development. Oklahoma has roughly 500,000 adults who are functionally illiterate, he said, and he wonders what might happen to communities when those adults gain skills they have spent years without. The question becomes particularly urgent in rural communities, where workforce development and economic opportunity are already closely connected.

Dominic is also in discussions with the state chamber about efforts to ensure that children are reading at a third-grade level. Funding is being directed toward training teachers to identify students who are falling behind. He sees the effort as a 20- or 30-year undertaking. But children are not the only people who need help.

“What are we doing now for the individuals who are not going to work at that level?” he asks.

For Dominic, the answer has to include adults who are already living with the consequences of low literacy. That includes parents. A mother may sit beside her child’s homework and understand that something is expected of her without knowing how to read the assignment. A father may receive a financial document or medical instructions and have no one he feels comfortable asking for help. Some parents stay away because they are embarrassed. Others find ways to support their children despite their own limitations. Still others can begin to feel that school itself has become adversarial because every homework assignment reminds them of what they cannot do.

A literacy center can give those parents somewhere to ask a simple question: How do I read this? The answer might involve homework. It might involve a doctor’s instructions. It might involve a bill. It is all part of what Dominic calls functional literacy and health literacy.

The center also works with immigrants learning English and preparing for citizenship. For some students, immigration concerns make leaving home difficult. Zoom and Teams have created another way to participate. For Dominic, technology works best when it helps create community rather than replace it. People also need one another. When students learn together, relationships develop. Those relationships can make the learning process less frightening and, in some cases, become lifelong friendships.

That emphasis on the individual comes partly from Dominic’s background in psychology. He learned to begin with the person rather than the organization. People process information differently. They learn differently. Some are naturally dominant; others are quieter. Communication styles affect how people complete tasks and how they relate to one another.

A successful program, he believes, has to meet people where they are. The same is true of the teachers. Community Literacy Centers employs teachers who work with students in literacy and high school equivalency. Dominic says the program exists because of the dedication of people who want to see others succeed.

The teachers and how they teach, Dominic said. That is such a gift of love.

His understanding of that kind of commitment began long before Community Literacy Centers. Dominic grew up in Port Arthur, Texas, between Houston and Lake Charles, Louisiana. His parents were both at home, and his father and mother were deeply involved in the civil rights movement. As a child, Dominic watched his father register people to vote and help get them to the polls. He also saw the risks that came with that work. On one occasion, he picked up the telephone and heard a person threaten to kill his family.

His father had served in the military and had access to GI Bill and VA benefits, but encountered barriers when he tried to use those benefits to buy a home or attend school. Those experiences helped push him toward advocacy. His message to his son was direct: get a college degree if you want to change things. Dominic eventually joined the Air Force, following the example of his sister, who was a staff sergeant at the time. He spent 30 years in the service.

The Air Force taught him how to work with people from different backgrounds and how to build teams. It also taught him something he still carries into his work today: leadership is not about being the smartest person in the room. It is about knowing how to work with people who possess skills you do not have.

You do not do anything alone, he said. You give credit to the team.

His parents had taught him something else: courage. You can enter difficult situations, Dominic believes, and ask whether what you are doing is best for yourself or for the community. If the cause matters, you stand up for it and accept the consequences. You may not win the first time. You keep coming back. That principle runs through much of Dominic’s life, including his understanding of the experiences of African American women.

His mother was a force in his life, and he describes his wife, whom he married after high school, as another powerful influence. He objects to the way Black women can be characterized as overly aggressive or as people who do not know what they are talking about. For him, those stereotypes have a history. He points to generations of African american women who cared for white families while enduring racism, sexual violence and the restrictions imposed by Jim Crow. He sees today’s African American women speaking with greater authority about their lives and careers, only to encounter new versions of old assumptions.

His wife experienced one such moment while the couple was stationed in Hawaii. She applied for a job and was invited to meet with the employer. When she arrived, she was told they had not known she was Black. The position was suddenly filled. She was allowed to apply for another accounting position. Dominic remembers that experience as one of many that shaped his understanding of how accomplished people, particularly women, can encounter barriers that have little to do with their abilities.

His wife went on to graduate from Tulane with a law degree. Their two daughters are also college graduates. One works in human resources for a large company and has developed programs to help employees obtain things for their families that might otherwise be beyond their means.

Their younger daughter is a writer who has published two books and is working on a third. Dominic describes her as someone who understands the gift of reading.

His own educational journey continued as well. He recently completed a Ph.D. at Walden University.

Technology has changed the way people encounter information during his lifetime. Dominic does not necessarily believe people understand less because of it. Instead, he sees a world in which information can be gathered and narrowed much faster.

When he was younger, finding an answer might require searching through several books. Today, technology can bring an enormous amount of information together almost instantly. But access is only part of literacy. The deeper question is what people do with what they find, how they understand it and how they connect that knowledge to the people around them. That is why the work at Community Literacy Centers remains so human.

A construction worker learns to read and discovers he can help his grandchildren with homework.

A young woman who once left school stands in front of a room and reads her story aloud before going on to college and pursuing medicine.

A man who spent years concealing his inability to read reaches a third-grade level and finds the courage to read in front of other people.

These moments may seem small beside conversations about economic development, workforce shortages, educational policy and the future of technology. For the people experiencing them, they are moments when someone who has spent years trying not to be seen becomes visible.

Reading is not merely the consumption of information. It is one of the ways people learn to interpret the world and imagine their place within it.

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And once that happens, Dominic believes, the possibilities begin to change.