Myandie Burton and her tutor are huddled over a book in a small classroom at Edmonds Community College.
They are reading the story of a woman who learned to read and write as an adult. It hits home.
Burton has lived her life nearly illiterate until almost two years ago, when she enroll
ed in EdCC’s adult basic literacy program. At 67, she is determined to work toward her GED diploma, to show herself and her children and grandchildren that it’s never too late to change.
Burton’s lack of education has been a well-kept secret over the years, but she has gone through life like someone living in a foreign country. She
got jobs through people she knew to avoid filling out applications and qualified for her driver license by memorizing answers to enough questions to pass the test. She learned to drive by remembering landmarks and learned road signs by their colors and shapes.
Back in the classroom, Susan Armstrong, the tutor, nudges her to start the next page. Burton’s voice is soft; it almost drowns in the hum of the ventilation system.
The book is harder than most of the reading Burton had done, but her tutor is there to help her conquer new words.
She stops for a second, struggling with the way letters come together in “poverty,” a word that’s hard to read but needs no explanation.
Burton grew up in rural Arkansas, working cotton fields around the time nine black students enrolled in Central High School in Little Rock.
She was 6 when she started working as a water girl to help her parents on a farm. She moved on to more difficult jobs and quit school in the middle of third grade.
She didn’t think about it much. School was a privilege, where you got to play with other kids and not worry about helping to feed your brothers and sisters.
Burton married young and got busy raising children, then grandchildren. There was no time for school. She enrolled in a community college in Illinois when she was in her 40s but dropped out quickly. Younger students snickered behind her back when she didn’t know the answer to a question.
“If I’d had the nerves to stay, I would be working a good job now. I would probably give my kids a better shot at life, too,” she said.
A legacy
Burton’s Lynnwood apartment is tidy and full of knickknacks. Martin Luther King Jr. posters decorate the small bathroom. A half-dozen collector dolls and stuffed animals are arranged on the floor. The rest of the dolls from her collection have lived in a storage unit since she downsized from a house a few years ago.
A framed photo shows Burton at age 28, flashing a smile from an armchair at her sister’s Chicago apartment. She had just had her fifth child, a son.
“Don’t you wish you could turn back time?” she says, looking at the photo.
A family album on the coffee table spans generations of smiling faces. Burton is thankful for her big family. She asked for nothing when her husband left her with young children to marry a younger woman. Two of Burton’s daughters live in Washington state, one in Illinois, one in Georgia. Her son is a barber in Florida. She has 20 grandchildren, many of whom have children of their own.
Some of Burton’s kids and grandkids never finished high school. She has always felt responsible for that and decided to lead them the only way she knew how: by example. Her relatives now notice a difference in the way she speaks.
“If I get them all to go back to school before I die, I will die a happy woman,” she said. “That will be my legacy.”
It’s already working. One of her granddaughters recently came from Illinois and enrolled in a community college. She jokes that Burton put her to shame. A couple of years earlier, a grandson who dismayed Burton by dropping out of high school in his last year went back to finish and gave his diploma to Burton for her birthday.
Making progress
Burton has shown great improvement since she started in the literacy program, and her new skills have opened doors she didn’t even know existed. She feels different in ways that can’t be measured with a test. The other day, she went to the grocery store and realized that she could read the words on a box of her favorite cereal. She did that instead of just recognizing the box. She was so happy, she couldn’t stop repeating it: banana nut, banana nut, banana nut.
Her eldest daughter, who lives down the street, helps her with bills and other paperwork. She can navigate her phone bill and rent payments but has had to rely on someone else to handle the rest of the mail. She called a utility last year to ask why her bill went up only to find that the change had been explained in a special notice. Burton was embarrassed and said she didn’t get the notice, even though she had but simply couldn’t read it.
Her secret held her back from dating and making friends. Now that she can read, she is more confident and smiles at what still could be.
At least 30 million American adults don’t read well enough to fill out a job application, according to the nonprofit ProLiteracy. That’s about 14 percent of the country’s adult population. Only a fraction seek help.
Burton isn’t the first of such people to turn to EdCC, said Nancy Strom, who coordinates volunteers who tutor English-language learners and others studying for General Educational Development tests. About 2,200 students are enrolled in such programs each year at Edmonds alone. Some of them are adults just learning to read, others are immigrants with postdoctoral degrees from their home countries but no knowledge of English.
A quick mind
Burton didn’t fit into any one class, but Strom felt her student could shine if she just got a chance.
Armstrong, Burton’s second tutor, lets curiosity guide study sessions.
“She wants to know it all, and that’s very inspiring,” Armstrong said. “I told her that the difference between us is not in intelligence, it’s in opportunity.”
Burton wants to know about volcanoes, oceans and space exploration. She asks about the geography and history of Korea and Gambia.
She studies every day, practicing her reading and writing skills. She is frustrated with how long it’s taking her to learn, though everyone tells her she is progressing much faster than expected.
“I wanted so badly for this to happen quickly so I can enjoy it a little before I leave here,” she said.
She’s finding a lot to enjoy already. She has set a goal: learn to read “Peter Rabbit” so she can read it to her great-granddaughter, Mel-Mel, in time for her fourth birthday in August.
Burton explores the Internet and picks up books from the library. And next time she gets paperwork in the mail, she might just deal with it herself.
Katya Yefimova: 425-339-3452, kyefimova@heraldnet.com.
The power of reading
What is adult literacy?
Adult literacy is defined as using printed and written information to function in society, achieve personal goals and develop knowledge and potential, according to the National Coalition for Literacy.
Why is it important?
The number of jobs that adults with low literacy skills qualify for continues to drop. Those with low literacy skills are more likely to have health problems, including heart disease, diabetes and prostate cancer.
As of 2008, low literacy’s effects cost the United States at least $225 billion yearly in nonproductivity in the work force, crime and loss of tax revenue because of unemployment, according to ProLiteracy.org.
How can you help?
GED, ESL and basic literacy classes are offered through nonprofit groups around Snohomish County. Consider volunteering or refer someone who wishes to improve their literacy. Here’s where to find comprehensive programs:
— Everett Community College: www.everettcc.edu/learning or 425-388-9100.
— Edmonds Community College: www.edcc.edu/getstarted or 425-640-1459.
Watch a video with Myandie Burton
Reporter Katya Yefimova interviewed Myandie Burton on video. Watch the video here.
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.