IMAGINE that you were looking at this page now, but instead of reading the kind of erudite, witty and frankly mind-blowing article you've come to expect, all you could see instead was a tapestry of meaningless squiggles. Just imagine the frustration
– and shame – of being one of Britain's five million illiterate adults. How is it even possible for kids to leave school without having learned even the most basic literacy skills? It's a disgrace that so many people in this country have been failed by the education system.
"Britain's best known teacher" Phil Beadle (I'd never heard of him) is understandably chagrined by this shameful state of affairs. He also feels guilty that, although he was adept at encouraging his former secondary-school pupils to expand their writing skills, he was never any good at helping them how to read. In the touching new series Can't Read, Can't Write, Beadle attempted to assuage his shame by seeing if he could successfully teach a group of adults in just six months.
Having never taught anyone how to read before, the charismatic Beadle – who resembles a rakish elder-statesman rock star – investigated the current government curriculum, and was totally dismayed by what he found.
He felt – quite rightly, it seems – that the system was completely ineffectual with regard to helping people who have no literacy skills whatsoever. He was almost moved to tears of disgust after witnessing one adult learning class.
Passionate, forthright and evidently sincere, Beadle is the kind of inspiring maverick that every teacher secretly wishes they were.
"It's like looking at a big spider on the wall that you're frightened of," sighed Theresa, 59, a mother of ten, as she stared in incomprehension at a notice. On a solo trip to the supermarket, she wandered around bemused, carrying a shopping list she couldn't understand. She went home in tears, empty-handed.
Likewise, Linda was truly ashamed of her perceived inadequacy, and yet she seemed more desperate to learn than anyone. "Just as you need to be able to breathe," she told her teacher, "I need to be able to read."
Unfortunately, Linda was one of the pupils who struggled the most, and spent most of her time in class weeping with frustration. Beadle was seriously concerned that, not only might he be unable to help her, but also that she'd abandon the course and never learn to read.
It was therefore genuinely gratifying to see these women gradually start to grapple with the basics. It was impossible not to share in their enthusiasm and relief.
However, the revelations that people like James had been abandoned by his teachers left a sour taste in the mouth.
Incapable of completing any school work, he was instead given – of all things – a word-search to complete, and then told to go home every day at lunchtime. Like Beadle, I could only shake my head in disbelief.
The latest series of Dragon's Den kicked off with the usual gaggle of deluded fools who reckon that people like an increasingly world-weary Duncan Bannatyne have nothing better to do with their money than invest in some utterly ludicrous inventions.
Most perplexing of all were the "wacky" middle-class couple (for God's sake, please ban people from doing comedy pitches) who'd stitched a barely noticeable line of rough fabric into the middle of their bed-sheet in order to keep each other on their designated side of the bed at night. Why not go the whole hog and build a manned sentry post?
The full article contains 608 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
