Essay

Ellen’s Story

by Ellen Szita

Illiteracy is a crippling disease. It is also a thief, robbing families of their future. It is a jailer. What most people take for granted, many cannot.

It’s hard to believe that in a country such as ours, a world of illiteracy exists. Seven million of us lack the "skills needed to use printed material commonly found at work, at home, and in the community." Three million of those seven cannot read or write at all. These people live in a very different world from those with academic skills — an alien world of loneliness, fear, anger and humiliation, not to mention low self-esteem, lack of confidence and much more. No one could have foreseen that society would change drastically, economically, socially, and morally or that people like me would be caught in the middle of these extreme changes.

My name is Ellen Szita and I was born in England in 1941. I was one of eight children and was taught early as a child, that education was not important for women. It was assumed that I would marry, have children and take care of my family. This attitude was passed down through generations. My mother’s schooling was extremely poor and my father’s education was also limited.

My school was a very unhappy place for me to be as was my home environment. At school we were graded from A to D. "A" was above average, "B" was average, "C" below average and "D" was for dunce. That’s where I remained throughout my entire schooling, a dunce. At school I made very few friends. I felt unworthy. With low self-esteem and constant rebukes, I’d given up hope of ever learning anything long before I reached high school. I sat and wished the days away waiting to go to work in a factory, which I did at 14 years of age. Feeling a complete failure, a mistake to society, at 15 years of age I attempted suicide. Having failed even at that, I immigrated to Canada at the age of 18, hoping to find a better way of life and believing I was leaving all the pain and humiliation behind.

Eventually, I married and for a long time I felt safe. But there was difficulty in my everyday living. I couldn’t balance a cheque book, read well enough to learn to drive, or help the children with their homework. I dreaded the phone calls from teachers asking me why I hadn’t turned up at the meetings. I became angry with the children’s teachers and blamed them for my children’s failures.

When shopping, I went by the picture on the can, and often came home with cat food thinking it was tuna. I never counted my change because I would take too long and fear that people might know I was illiterate. I had difficulty understanding the bills. The fear of being found out haunted me day in and day out. I tried to disguise my feelings of inferiority by emphasizing my British accent and being immaculately dressed, hair always in place. And it worked! Still, when I had to go into a bank, which I avoided whenever possible, I would feel sick to my stomach. My growing awareness of the need to be educated caused depression and my drinking escalated. Consequently I found myself a single parent of four children, my false sense of security gone and my dark secret of illiteracy revealed.

I looked frantically for work only to be fired from two jobs due to my low academic skill. My friends asked me how I got the job in the first place. I remember one interview to which I brought a book with me, having seen the movie ahead of time. The idea was to throw anyone off the fact that I couldn’t read. I was asked what my favourite part of the book was, and having seen the movie, I had no trouble answering the question.

The darkness became even greater when I couldn’t help my children with their homework and three of my four children dropped out of school between grade 7 and 10. Between the emotional stress and lack of skills I gave up trying and lived on welfare for eight very long years. But what I found even more frightening, was that it became another safe place for me to be. I knew what to expect being on welfare; there were no surprises. I heard what others thought of welfare recipients.

I never understood why the floor didn’t open up and swallow me. I felt I was being punished.

My awakening happened one morning when my oldest daughter Kim, who was 18 at the time, told me she was leaving home if I didn’t stop drinking. There are no words to describe how that felt. At that point all I had to live for were my children. Without them there was no point to my being. I kept thinking, don’t parents tell their teenagers to smarten up? Here was an 18 year old, barely out of school, telling her mother to change her ways. I never drank again; but, the baggage I carried affected my thinking and was robbing me of my life. Eventually I was encouraged by a friend to enter a treatment centre. At the same time I began to see a psychiatrist. I hid my illiteracy so well that even my doctor didn’t find out for sometime that I had difficulty in reading and writing. Finally, through the help of my doctor, I discovered I am dyslexic. He persuaded me to try going to school.

I started at the Victoria READ Society in 1987, not really believing they could ever help me, but I was desperate and would try anything. After four months and through the most incredible teachers I had ever met, I finally found enough confidence to enter Adult Basic Education at Camosun College. While at college it was discovered I had breast cancer and had to have a radical mastectomy. At first my attitude was, "What the hell was it all for?" but with a lot of love and support from my teachers, both from the college and the READ Society, I overcame my anger and eventually completed grade 12 in English.

During this period, I discovered the high rate of illiteracy in this country and became involved in the literacy movement. What I found frightening was the lack of public awareness about how large a problem illiteracy is and what it can lead to. Chemical abuse, emotional disorder, and even violence commonly stem from illiteracy.

With our modern-day technology changing rapidly, even educated people are having difficulty keeping up. Where does that leave adult learners and children who have learning difficulties? They are being left farther and farther behind.

My grandson failed kindergarten. So he began to have five hours a week on a one-to-one with an aid teacher. A couple of months later his mother was told by his aid teacher that he needed more than five hours a week and she was concerned because the principal had cut Jordon’s hours back to one and a half. When the mother approached the principal his answer was: "There are many other children in the school like Jordon who also need help and there’s not enough money to go around."

This left me with a haunting question: Are we, as a nation, in denial? We talk about protecting peoples’ rights. Education is not just a privilege; it’s a birthright. I wondered whether the public is aware that it is not education the government is cutting back on, but the quality of peoples lives. When I went back to school 15 years ago searching for a better way of life, I didn’t see it as a cost. I thought, as a mother of four, it was an investment not only for myself but also for my family. I saw it as a long-term interest-bearing bond on human life that pays both social and economic dividends. I believe that if changes are not implemented in the very near future we could see a huge gap between the employed and unemployed, complicated by emotional stress and anger. I know. I’ve been there. I also know it costs the taxpayers far more in the long run if children are not taken care of at an early age.

All I ask for is what any human being wants: for our children to live life with dignity and pride, to look forward to the future and not fear it. To walk down the street and feel like a whole human being. We must provide awareness of the freedom that education can bring and give them hope and confidence for an ever-changing world of learning.

My oldest daughter went back to school and is now a supervisor of 18 teachers who work with children who have special needs. My oldest son went back to school and is a registered mechanic, my youngest son has been in the same field of work for nine years. My youngest daughter went back to school for three years and is a computer technician. I have five grandchildren; one has been an honour student for the last three years in a row, one received an award last year for the most improved student and my oldest grandchild who is in high school, loves it. There are no words to tell you how that feels. The vicious cycle has finally been broken.

I have learned much over the past 15 years but one bitter-sweet lesson is this: people love as we love them, learn what we teach them, and give back to society that which is given to them.

I will be 60 years old this year. It has been a long, hard road to turn my life around. It has been painful and humiliating. However, today I have my grade 12 and have been sober for 18 years. But I could not have accomplished this without the incredible support from my teachers and the volunteer tutors who listened to my silent heart, saw in me what I could not, lit a light in my darkness, and left me with a torch that has given me courage to share my struggles and glories with others today. Because of people like them I have become a very productive person.

I sit on six boards in B.C. involving adult literacy and I am also the Chairman of the bursary fund for children at the READ Society. I was voted to be the representative for adult learners in British Columbia. I have participated on various panels, been a keynote speaker on numerous occasions, given radio and TV interviews, and been featured in several newspapers and magazines to promote awareness of illiteracy. I have spoken to high schools, colleges, the University of Victoria, and many other organizations. I have written articles for newspapers and published poetry. With another student I wrote a play about illiteracy called, "Listen to My Darkness," in which I took part. An award-winning documentary, called "Ellen’s Story," was based on my life. In 1993, I received an award from the English-Speaking Union for my work in literacy. And in September of 1994, the Governor General presented me with the Flight for Freedom Award for my achievements.

This year I became a Professional Counsellor and hope to eventually specialize in grief and loss, especially with adult learners. I’m facing the greatest challenge of my life. I am writing a book that I once only dreamed about. I am fulfilling a dream that I was robbed of as a child because I believed what others told me — that I was dumb and would never amount to anything.

There is no ending to this story, as I feel I have just begun. Once my goal was to take one dreaded day at a time; today I am a spiritual being. I’m having a wonderful human experience.

Ellen Szita resides in Victoria, BC. When not travelling to lecture on literacy she is at home writing her autobiography.