I worked in agricultural research. When I first moved to Wagga Wagga for work, I felt like I'd moved to a foreign country. I often had no idea what people were talking about - there was this jargon, a language of agriculture and farming, that I didn't know. I spent an afternoon with a guy who was bringing me up to speed on a project I was to work on, and after the pleasantries, I could barely understand what he said. I was so embarrassed. I had a degree, and I was useless. What do you say? How do you tell someone that you haven't understood their first sentence, let alone the last 3 hours? I was almost in tears. I had a new job and I didn't understand any of it.
This horrifying experience made me more aware of others and I've been forever grateful for it (but not at the time!). I took a chance of telling someone how I felt - I couldn't have picked a better person to confide in. He helped me with the jargon, I helped him with things he didn't get (there weren't too many and maybe he asked just to be nice, but I felt like we helped each other...which says a lot for him and his manner of teaching me). We kept up this relationship for all the years we worked together. Looking back, he must have told others because I often had people come and ask me to explain science concepts or words, or they'd ask me to help with writing something - and in return, these people helped me with the practical, farming things I didn't know.
When I work with people, I try to notice if they've understood things. I'm attune to that glazed-eyed stare when you've lost the meaning of what's being said. Later, when I taught classes and gave talks, I tried to explain the jargon and get to the basics. I didn't want anyone to feel how I'd felt those first days in the new job - useless and stupid.
I've done quite a lot of writing for people who've helped me with physical work. I've written job applications, grade progressions, reports, letters and personal bits in exchange for learning to drive a truck and a tractor, learning to tie a truckie's hitch, having trucks and utes unloaded, soil corers cleaned, sharpened or made, nifty time-saving gadgets invented for my work. I think I got the best end of those deals!
I began to be aware that some people had phenomenal memories and knowledge. They'd tell you all manner of things, so long as they weren't trapped in an office/schoolroom environment. I learned that if a course was practical and theory, teaming up with someone who was good at practical was best for me. I'd help with theory, they'd help with prac. Of course, I learned this the hard and embarrassing way. :) A friend and I did a tractor safety course together and when they needed us to pair up, we did. It didn't take long for the poor instructor to pair us up with two of the older farm hands who actually knew so much more than we did, but who had trouble writing. It was a lesson I will always remember - know your weaknesses, and find someone to help you offset that!
When a fellow I worked with went back to TAFE to improve his reading and maths so he could help his kids with schoolwork...it had a huge impact. This guy's burning drive was to improve, no matter how difficult this 'school stuff' was. I admired him and his commitment greatly. He wasn't improving for his benefit - he managed quite well as it was - he wanted this for his kids. A better life for his kids.
I was in a book group with a bunch of literacy teachers. I've seen both sides of this issue and my admiration for the adult literacy teachers is also high.
These are some of the reasons why I included literacy as a theme in The Healing Season. I only skim the issue but it was important to me that I acknowledge this very real rural issue, because it is so often overlooked.
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