According the 16th edition of Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations, the following is attributed to Francis Bacon: Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man. Conference and writing are predicated on Reading’s ability to fill the mind and spirit. Many in this country go to bed each night with “empty stomachs.”
One might expect that literacy in the United States should approach 100%, but this is not the case. I am not writing about an immigrant population who come from their own countries with diverse educational experience and varied desire to learn the language of their adoptive country. I mean the native born American—the men and women who somehow “slipped through educational cracks” and have spent their adult lives working low paying jobs and living unfulfilled lives. These adults cannot help their children with homework. They must rely on a handshake and the trustworthiness of others to conduct their business affairs. There are a lot of these people, a disturbing number. They are very adept at hiding their reading problems; very defensive if challenged.
For several years I was a volunteer tutor in a local adult literacy program. I learned a lot in those dozen years—about bravery, trust, humility, determination, and persistence. It takes an enormous amount of courage for a 40 year old mother to ask for basic reading and writing help so she can help her children achieve a better life than the one she’s had. It’s humbling for a 65-year old man who has successfully operated a business on trust alone to come to three classes a week to get help with heretofore undiagnosed dyslexia. Yet he comes to every class, every week. A 25-year old developmentally disabled adult can only succeed in a new group independent living situation if we can help improve specific “on the job” reading comprehension. It is very difficult for her, but she persists. A young immigrant woman comes to class after working a night cleaning job. She has to leave early to care for her young children when her husband leaves for work. This woman wants so badly to be a nurse. She’s bright and indefatigable, but ultimately must choose between family and her dreams when her spouse loses his job.
Every adult “student” has a compelling need. The four I have described only hint at the range and variety of unfulfilled needs. Each person’s situation is unique. Most of us don’t realize that so many battle illiteracy every waking hour of every day. Reading is so natural and unconscious to us that we can barely comprehend what it’s like to be illiterate.
The origin of each person’s problem is not important—and we certainly cannot judge. Often the older ones left school during the Great Depression and drifted around the country. So many come with a lifetime of derisive baggage! They have been called “dumb” or “lazy” throughout their lives because they seek to hide their inability to read. Some had to leave school to contribute to their family’s survival by bringing in a weekly paycheck. A few needed to get away from terrible living conditions so the value of an education was a low priority when physical survival was at stake. One of my students sported arms that were scarred and discolored. When I had earned enough of his trust to talk about it I was told that the burns had occurred on the job. He had been told to bring some dry ice to the loading dock. Because he couldn’t read, he didn’t realize that he should not just pick up the ice with bare hands and arms. His arms took a long time to heal; the memory never did.
Lately I have been reading in the news that medical illiteracy can kill you. A recent study, lead by Dr. David Baker of Northwestern University’s Feinberg School of Medicine, discovered that at least 25% of patients (65 and older) could not understand written health information, read prescription labels for directions and contraindications, or understand basic instructions on how to prepare for medical tests. A few years ago I was researching the reading level of medical information for a consumer health information center. I found that the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) was written at a level appropriate to a junior or senior college student. The New England Journal of Medicine was aimed at graduate level. Even the Home Edition of the Merck Manual (1st edition) targeted a 9th grade reading level when I surveyed a portion of an article on breast cancer. Only a few medical websites, e.g. MedlinePlus, even have “Easy to Read” sections. Yet research indicates that about 60% of Internet users search for health information online. As a librarian I know that low literacy health books, written for adult audiences, are scarce.
Are publishers, health web providers, and medical personnel presuming a basic, adequate literacy that may not attain for all? The premise seemingly fails for most of my former students, as well as for 25% of the elderly! Are those who hide their literacy anorexia getting information to sustain life, live decent lives, obtain good jobs, and get the health information they deserve? Can we afford to turn away so many from the table of plenty? This is not saving the whales or closing the ozone hole over Antarctica. This is your patient, client, neighbor, employee, family member. It’s in your face, if you’d only look. What can YOU bring to the table?
Monday, July 30, 2007
Monday, July 09, 2007
Nutrition for the Mind
One of my favorite meta-blogs is the Encyclopedia Britannica Blogsite. [See: http://blogs.britannica.com/blog/main ] The main page opens to the newest posts and to a “menu” divided into a variety of appetizing subject areas. Most contributors have been invited to write and are experts in their fields. The purpose of each entry is to stimulate an online conversation based on each author’s particular expertise. Reader responses are welcome.
Recently a Web2.0 section has been added. Its purpose is to provide a venue in which the intellectual life of the Web can be examined. After all, an unexamined Internet life is not worth living either! Leading contributors include librarians and a former Britannica editor. I sometimes feel I can detect the amorphous scepter of Mortimer Adler lurking in the ethers, pontificating on the four “goods of the mind”—information, knowledge, understanding, and wisdom—somewhat like Adele Davis promoting the food groups as the basis of sound nutrition.
The Web2.0 debate decries the state of the well nourished mind. Much concern is voiced on the nature of the well-balanced intellectual meal online searchers are looking for, and on the crumbs offered. Web2.0 fears may be valid. It is possible that the bulk of readily available, free information on the Internet is, at best, snack and fast food.
It has been my experience as a librarian that many people are satisfied with crumbs. They want a quick answer to fill their hunger—any answer, nutritional values of no concern. They want to know when their favorite musical group will be performing in the area, the phone number of the nearest cleaners, and how to get airline tickets cheaply. These are perfectly legitimate uses of the Internet. They may even be the reason the web finally “caught on.” Remember those dot-coms that went under because they were pre-emptive and didn’t have business plans to match the medium? A hamburger joint will fail in a vegetarian neighborhood unless it caters to the customer. However, as everyone knows, a continuous diet of fast foods does not promote good health.
The Internet can provide ample nourishment to the seeker who wants a single, yet filling, meal of limited facts. For example, a searcher can readily locate information on a medical condition, its symptoms, treatment and prognosis that will satisfy them. It is their responsibility to determine whether they are being sold a “bill of goods” or are making healthy choices based on the nutritional needs of the mind.
If they have a truly serious condition, those healthy choices are critical. The authority of the information, its completeness, depth, and currency become as important as the information. A dietary life plan is called for. This is where expert searchers like librarians and “invisible web” resources become vital. This interaction is the meeting with a nutrition expert to plan one’s diabetic eating plan; purchasing the best nutritional values book available; beginning an exercise program; and changing one’s relationship with food and life. It becomes knowledge building with a goal of relevant understanding.
As Web2.0 contributors fear, many seekers of the “goods of the mind” are not getting a balanced diet with informational crumbs, fast and/or junk food. But are those committed to lifestyle change, longevity, and maximizing their health really going to stop when GOOGLE serves up a reasonable answer? Actualy GOOGLE Scholar provides entree into current scholarship and authors working in several research areas--if you know how to maximize that resource. Will a critically thinker be satisfied with one source? I hope not!
Web2.0 debate based on this characterization of intellectual prowess resembles is a “straw man” argument. What gourmand mind fills itself on the web? A judicious taste of Internet information networks won’t hurt once in a while. It may even introduce the gourmet to an elusive, tidbit heretofore unknown. One of the serendipitous findings of network theory, as it applies to the Internet, is the surprising occurrence of innovation and critically important information coming from peripheral and poorly connected nodes.
If the Web2.0 characterization is correct, the fault resides elsewhere. Elements of critical thinking must be taught at the dinner table of education, beginning with the high chair of elementary school and leading on from the formal banquet of post-graduate work. Standards must be set and met. Knowledge is not miraculously conferred in one sitting. Understanding integrates traditional food-of-thought sources like treatises, current documentation of nutritional elements similar to those found in peer reviewed journals, creative combinations of novel and flavorful concepts, and caloric limitations set by established theory and empirical demonstration—all contribute to the totality of the mind’s nourishment.
The Internet is not the bête noire of the mind. The responsibility of fitness rests with the individual. Flab or fit? The assessment depends on motivation, purpose, and conditioning. Those who revere Mortimer Adler, as I do, should not fear the decline and fall of the intellectual banquet of the mind because an Internet hot dog stand takes over our favorite corner. There is room for both. Those who really care, go elsewhere for sustenance.
Recently a Web2.0 section has been added. Its purpose is to provide a venue in which the intellectual life of the Web can be examined. After all, an unexamined Internet life is not worth living either! Leading contributors include librarians and a former Britannica editor. I sometimes feel I can detect the amorphous scepter of Mortimer Adler lurking in the ethers, pontificating on the four “goods of the mind”—information, knowledge, understanding, and wisdom—somewhat like Adele Davis promoting the food groups as the basis of sound nutrition.
The Web2.0 debate decries the state of the well nourished mind. Much concern is voiced on the nature of the well-balanced intellectual meal online searchers are looking for, and on the crumbs offered. Web2.0 fears may be valid. It is possible that the bulk of readily available, free information on the Internet is, at best, snack and fast food.
It has been my experience as a librarian that many people are satisfied with crumbs. They want a quick answer to fill their hunger—any answer, nutritional values of no concern. They want to know when their favorite musical group will be performing in the area, the phone number of the nearest cleaners, and how to get airline tickets cheaply. These are perfectly legitimate uses of the Internet. They may even be the reason the web finally “caught on.” Remember those dot-coms that went under because they were pre-emptive and didn’t have business plans to match the medium? A hamburger joint will fail in a vegetarian neighborhood unless it caters to the customer. However, as everyone knows, a continuous diet of fast foods does not promote good health.
The Internet can provide ample nourishment to the seeker who wants a single, yet filling, meal of limited facts. For example, a searcher can readily locate information on a medical condition, its symptoms, treatment and prognosis that will satisfy them. It is their responsibility to determine whether they are being sold a “bill of goods” or are making healthy choices based on the nutritional needs of the mind.
If they have a truly serious condition, those healthy choices are critical. The authority of the information, its completeness, depth, and currency become as important as the information. A dietary life plan is called for. This is where expert searchers like librarians and “invisible web” resources become vital. This interaction is the meeting with a nutrition expert to plan one’s diabetic eating plan; purchasing the best nutritional values book available; beginning an exercise program; and changing one’s relationship with food and life. It becomes knowledge building with a goal of relevant understanding.
As Web2.0 contributors fear, many seekers of the “goods of the mind” are not getting a balanced diet with informational crumbs, fast and/or junk food. But are those committed to lifestyle change, longevity, and maximizing their health really going to stop when GOOGLE serves up a reasonable answer? Actualy GOOGLE Scholar provides entree into current scholarship and authors working in several research areas--if you know how to maximize that resource. Will a critically thinker be satisfied with one source? I hope not!
Web2.0 debate based on this characterization of intellectual prowess resembles is a “straw man” argument. What gourmand mind fills itself on the web? A judicious taste of Internet information networks won’t hurt once in a while. It may even introduce the gourmet to an elusive, tidbit heretofore unknown. One of the serendipitous findings of network theory, as it applies to the Internet, is the surprising occurrence of innovation and critically important information coming from peripheral and poorly connected nodes.
If the Web2.0 characterization is correct, the fault resides elsewhere. Elements of critical thinking must be taught at the dinner table of education, beginning with the high chair of elementary school and leading on from the formal banquet of post-graduate work. Standards must be set and met. Knowledge is not miraculously conferred in one sitting. Understanding integrates traditional food-of-thought sources like treatises, current documentation of nutritional elements similar to those found in peer reviewed journals, creative combinations of novel and flavorful concepts, and caloric limitations set by established theory and empirical demonstration—all contribute to the totality of the mind’s nourishment.
The Internet is not the bête noire of the mind. The responsibility of fitness rests with the individual. Flab or fit? The assessment depends on motivation, purpose, and conditioning. Those who revere Mortimer Adler, as I do, should not fear the decline and fall of the intellectual banquet of the mind because an Internet hot dog stand takes over our favorite corner. There is room for both. Those who really care, go elsewhere for sustenance.
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