We set out in this project to attempt to understand workplace literacy
programs better by examining five selected cases in detail. Our interest in
such programs sprung from the fact that they have become ubiquitous, a new
addition to the vocational education and training landscape. The view of them
as a key to improved economic competitiveness is evidenced by the strong
federal stake in their efficacy, operationalized in the form of the National
Workplace Literacy Program. As two of the cases we have discussed here have
shown, funding support for such programs has been forthcoming from the state
level.
For all their ubiquity, and the fact that they constitute a form of
vocationalism, the research into their operation is still fledgling. Our probe
was, therefore, designed to shed light on these five programs in a way that
would illuminate their premises and procedures and allow inferences to be drawn
about the limits of a role for conventional vocational institutions and how
such a role could affect vocational education policy and practice. We were
particularly interested in the question of whether vocational institutions can
claim comparative advantage in the workplace literacy enterprise. We seek in
this final section to reflect upon what the cases--taken individually and
collectively--have revealed. We also reflect generally upon the nature of
workplace literacy programs.
The hospital project in which Redwood Technical College had the role of
literacy provider enabled us to see a vocational institution assume such a role
under the idealized conditions of a federal grant. The intent of the grant was
that the approaches employed in the partnership would be of demonstration value
to other entities embarking upon workplace literacy projects. Of course,
Redwood's role would be especially instructive for other vocational
institutions.
This project illustrated that vocational institutions (such as Redwood) with
customized training services expertise and traditions can use these effectively
in fashioning workplace literacy curricula. Such institutions know how to
derive curricula from the workplace, and how to make workplace instruction
relevant. They understand workplace culture intimately, and can communicate
with employers about their needs and with workers about their jobs.
The project further revealed that beyond their known traditions and expertise,
these institutions have a subtler claim as workplace literacy providers, which
is that they may be preferred by adults (to providers such as high schools or
ABE programs) because their context is postsecondary education which does not
remind them of prior failure. Adult workers wish to be spared the stigma of
having to go back to regular school.
This case also allowed us to see a vocational institution collaborate with
unions. This is atypical, but it has become a needed competence for these
institutions as they strive to carve a niche in the workplace literacy
enterprise. Literacy is a controversial and political workplace issue. For a
worker to admit to basic skill deficiencies is to become vulnerable. Working
with unions is a way to minimize worker suspicion about the likely hidden
agendas behind such initiatives and to win their confidence and cooperation.
Redwood's ability to work collaboratively with union representatives and
unionized workers was one of the major accomplishments of the hospital
project--one which is of important demonstration value for other vocational
institutions.
While vocational institutions typically offer some workplace basics as
adjuncts to their technical courses (e.g., technical writing, welding math, and
business English), such offerings do not ordinarily include the teaching of
reading, except where institutions offer ABE classes. We saw in this case that
the approach to reading was tentative, characterized by an attempt to teach
generic reading strategies within the limiting confines of the functional
context paradigm. We also saw an instructional approach that featured the
teaching of strategies (e.g., picking up cues from surface features such as
bold type) intended to help workers understand the importance of text they
could not otherwise comprehend. Even if such strategies were to work, thereby
aiding workers to perform jobs, our concern was that they would leave the
underlying reading deficiency unattended.
It was our view that for a traditional vocational institution, the teaching of
reading might constitute a major limit on their capability to deliver workplace
literacy programs. Consistent with Perfetti (1989), we are of the view that
reading is a generalized ability--that is, one that can manifest itself
independent of specific domain knowledge. This basic skill, therefore,
requires foundational deductive treatment that needs to be in place long before
one reaches the age of entry into the workforce. Workplaces can provide a hook
for the acquisition of general reading competence, but it is not meaningful to
think of specific reading (e.g., "welding reading," "electronics reading") in
isolation. The teaching of reading requires specially trained staff, along
with a teaching culture that understands the nuances that attend its teaching.
Finding ways to acquire capability here would be a challenge for those
vocational institutions that are so inclined.
This case also featured a traditional vocational institution, North Oaks
Technical College. It revealed that for such institutions wishing to offer
workplace literacy programming, customized training services capability
combined with ABE experience enhances their potency as providers. As with
Redwood Technical College in the hospital project, North Oaks Technical College
also had a viable customized training services function augmented by distance
delivery capability. But, in addition, it also offered ABE courses as part of
its regular fare. We believe that this ABE capability gave the college an
important edge. Some staff were specially trained as ABE providers and,
through the "developmental studies" program of the college, were routinely
involved in providing remedial training in the three Rs to students in need.
This staff could use their ABE experience as a backdrop for evaluating the
skills of workers. Their expertise in teaching adults to read enabled them to
diagnose deficiencies. They could provide both generic reading and also
reading within a domain. But they understood that the latter was meaningless
without the former. Thus, they could tell whether the deficiency a worker
exhibited was foundational (e.g., deficiency in word attack) and not likely to
be remedied within the context of the typical (short) workplace literacy class.
They could so advise the worker and then offer remedial help on an
individualized basis, without the pressure of time, in the context of ABE
classes.
This case also provided a glimpse of the outlines of a model that would
confine the role of a technical college in on-site workplace literacy programs
to the literacy audit and to tutoring on an ad hoc basis. Curriculum
development and instruction (major aspects of the current offerings of
vocational institutions in workplace literacy programs) would be provided via
canned individualized multimedia computer programs, aided by an in-house
subject matter expert. Such a model, of course, is premised on the idea that,
for the most part, the basic skills needed for the workplace could be
decontextualized and packaged much like traditional school learning. Should
this premise prove to be of merit, the case for vocational institutions as
unique workplace literacy providers would have become that much more difficult
to argue or demonstrate.
Cases 3 and 4 introduced a private provider (the Workplace Education Center)
which delivered basic skills training to hourly-paid workers at a branch of a
large bank and at a popular chain of hotels. The basic approach to curriculum
and instruction utilized by this provider did not differ materially from that
utilized by the technical colleges in Cases 1 and 2. There was the literacy
audit, in which the provider worked collaboratively with the employer and
workers to decide on problems and priorities and to connect the curriculum with
actual workplace materials; then, the content was decontextualized to a form
that enabled instruction under school-like conditions. Included was the pre-
and posttesting of workers.
This provider had learned the technology of the literacy audit and had shown,
thereby, that traditional vocational institutions have no monopoly here. Thus,
where the Education and Development Department of Pinewood Technology was
experimenting with an approach that would limit the role of the vocational
partner to the literacy audit and tutoring, now this private provider was
illustrating that the literacy audit--a capability that is characteristic of
vocational institutions--was not the sole province of such institutions. These
institutions, thus, have to look deeper to find an explanation of their unique
claims and, perhaps more to the point, they have to illustrate that they are
better and more cost-effective than other providers in offering workplace
literacy commonplaces.
An interesting feature of this case was the demeanor of the provider toward
workers. We saw here a concern for worker autonomy (called "empowerment" by
WEC staff), expressed in terms of encouragement to seek out further educational
experiences that could lead to advancement in the job. There was empathy for
the worker. As we have pointed out in discussing the hospital case,
ideological stances of this order had been a source of tension in the workplace
literacy project described by Gowen (1992). Ideological stances, of course,
influence curriculum and instruction. If the goal is worker autonomy and
eventual progression up the occupational ladder, then the efficacy of the
functional context model is thereby called into question.
Traditionally, vocational education institutions have prepared workers to the
specifications of employers or jobs. They are driven by labor market
requirements. Their natural tendency, therefore, is to approach workplace
literacy from the employer's point of view. For them, the curriculum is a
technical matter, not the subject of ideological debate. Here we can
appreciate the private provider better, and we see another area that
constitutes a potential limit for vocational education institutions. Can they
come to view literacy in terms that transcend work--that is, from the point of
view of the worker?
In Case 4, WEC demonstrated capability to communicate with workers for whom
English was not their native language. Having instructors who could
communicate in Spanish, and who were also sympathetic to the peculiar
difficulties that lack of facility with English caused these workers, was a
clear asset for the provider--one which appeared to set them apart from other
providers, traditional vocational education institutions included. Here again,
there appeared to be a limit, or at least a challenge, besetting vocational
institutions which proposed to become involved in workplace literacy
programming and which claimed uniqueness and comparative advantage.
This case was an examination of the operations of the Twin Cities
Opportunities Industrialization Center (TCOIC), a community-based,
nontraditional vocational institution--an enterprise which we believe has much
to teach vocational policymakers at the local, state, and federal levels, and
also to traditional vocational institutions, regarding an approach to the
education and training of marginalized populations. TCOIC kept a close
connection between the technical and basic skills that employers wanted. But
perhaps what makes this institution unique among vocational institutions was
that it specializes in the very clientele who are deemed most
likely to be lacking basic skills in the workforce. That its operations are
located within the community it predominantly serves speaks to its
customer-orientation and its legitimacy. This orientation is further
illustrated by the one-stop shop approach that is built into the basic design
of the institution, a design that closely connects literacy with vocationalism,
featuring literacy testing services, translation services for immigrants,
public school classes for those seeking a high school diploma, literacy labs
for those with such deficiencies, vocational labs to provide technical skills,
and counseling and placement services. These services combine with multiple
entrance and exit points and self-pacing.
While we do not wish to draw blind inference from this single case, it may be
that one lesson it teaches is that a vocational school can be a powerful
purveyor of adult literacy, if it is prepared to be flexible in its approach to
programming and to forge ties with, or draw upon, the resources and expertise
that reside in the community, including agencies (e.g., public schools) that
specialize in complementary services (e.g., ABE and ESL programming). This
case also illustrates that within their local communities may lie solutions to
the basic skills difficulties of marginalized groups.
Taken together, the cases unearth some critical features which, if present, seemed to strengthen the case for a vocational institution claiming uniqueness or comparative advantage over other providers in the workplace literacy enterprise. Among these features were
Table 6 (Appendix C) provides a summary of the cases, with an emphasis upon key variables.
It was striking that, among the four workplaces we examined, whatever may
have been the stated problem--whether new legislation, new technology, a focus
on quality, a move toward multiskilling, or a desire to make workers more
promotable in a high-tech manufacturing company, among hospital food and
laundry workers, in a bank, or for immigrants who knew little English--the
solutions were remarkably similar--short courses in basic reading, math, and
written or oral communication. To be sure, problem solving, working with
others, and so on were implemented. But at the core, the solution to literacy
deficiencies was basically the three Rs.
This predictability--if this is the case elsewhere across the workplace
literacy enterprise--raises questions about the premises of that enterprise.
Not the least of these questions is whether the focus on workplaces is not
ill-considered, whether it does not obscure a larger, deeper problem--the
problem of adult illiteracy. Developed countries such as the United States
have traditionally been reluctant to concede to having an adult illiteracy
problem. Illiteracy has been viewed as a preserve of the Third World, where it
has been viewed as a barrier to full political expression and freedom. A
discussion of illiteracy in the developed world reduces the distance between
these worlds. In the United States, for example, a discussion of illiteracy
leads to consideration of its social correlates, leading to challenges of core
ideas such as that of equality of opportunity for all.
Considering the circumstances, it is appealing to particularize the problem of
illiteracy by framing it within the context of work. The frame is shifted from
the social and political to the economic. It is not so much that society and
schools have failed as it is that workplaces must now face new global economic
realities (e.g., Bhola, 1988; Jones, 1990; Limage, 1990). But if workplace
literacy emerges as essentially no different from school or fundamental
literacy (and our evidence does not suggest otherwise), then it may well be
that this enterprise toils in vain and is in need of reappraisal.
A reappraisal of the problem of workplace literacy, and the attendant
discourse, may begin with consideration of the definition of workplace
literacy. That the definition of workplace literacy is problematic follows
from the fact that the definition of literacy itself is problematic, as
literacy is a social construct (e.g., Graff, 1991; Scribner & Cole, 1981;
Venezky, Wagner, & Cilberti, 1990).
What really is workplace literacy? Issues here were examined earlier within
the context of our conceptual framework, when we pointed out that workers and
their representatives may have different conceptions of workplace literacy than
corporate managers. Some see the issue in Freirean terms, viewing workplace
literacy in terms of critical consciousness--of voice.
But the dominant conception of workplace literacy has been one that conceives
of jobs in functional, reductionist terms, subject to discrete analysis.
Functional context theory has been the dominant explanation of the nature of
jobs. This theory has driven the technology of workplace literacy, the
centerpiece of which is the literacy audit. The workplace literacy curriculum
emanates from the literacy audit.
We agree with Kalman and Fraser (1992) and Gowen (1992) that the assumptions
and premises here might be faulty. The literacy audit has much face validity
because it pays attention to actual workplace examples (e.g., forms, memos,
manuals, menus, notices, and math problems). But the tests used in these
audits (and in the four workplace-based projects we saw) to assess worker
deficiencies (e.g., the ABLE, TABE, or Foreign Service Institute interviews)
are standardized and are focused on generic and not workplace-specific
competencies. They are not tests of workplace literacy at all--except, of
course, that by workplace literacy is meant school or basic literacy. We see a
disconnection here between the problem, the diagnosis, and the remedy. Our
sense is that when such tests are used in the workplace, they are invalid if
the purpose is other than what they are designed to measure.
In the workplace-based cases we have examined, actual problems and examples
from the workplace did substantially inform the curriculum and the approach to
instruction. This workplace focus was good pedagogy. But the more practical
purpose was to narrow the scope of what was to be taught, a practical strategy
given that such programs always operate under rigid time constraints. For
example, if it were known that the worker had to read a particular menu, or
fill a particular form, or convert numeric dollar amounts to words, then those
particular skills were taught. But a worker who has difficulty reading a menu
would also have difficulty reading a story to her children. Thus, the focus on
workplace examples, while good pedagogy, was no guarantee that the underlying
problem would be resolved.
We saw no direct parallel between instruction that particular workers needed
and tasks they could not perform. The unit of analysis in workplace literacy
audits was the group rather than the individual. There was no connecting of
remedy to problem.
If, as is our view, workplaces merely help us to observe the manifestations of
basic literacy deficiencies in the workforce and in the adult population at
large (e.g., Kirsch, Jungeblut, Jenkins, & Kolstad, 1993), then to rely on
workplaces themselves to solve the problem might be misguided policy. The
problem might better (more accurately) be framed not in terms of workplace
literacy, but in terms of adult illiteracy (e.g., Benton & Noyelle, 1992).
Workplaces were not invented to purvey basic literacy. They cannot do so
efficiently. They were meant to use literacy to good effect to produce goods
and services. When called upon to address the problem of literacy, they resort
to the only mode they know--which is the training mode--where problems can be
addressed quickly, in a matter of days, and in ways that do not disrupt the
rhythm of production. But basic literacy demands more in terms of expertise,
strategy, and time. Vocational institutions may yet have a role to play here,
on the basis of their tradition of working with adult learners. TCOIC showed
such a tradition, as did North Oaks Technical College, with their ABE
capability.
The cases we have examined here prompt the view that in the extent that
workplace literacy programs hold to the basic technology of literacy audits
leading to decontextualized curricula and instruction under school-like
conditions, vocational institutions have no particular claim to that
enterprise. We have seen that even without the infrastructural support that a
vocational institution embodies, a private provider has been able to master
this technology and to offer itself as credible to companies, as well as state
and federal authorities. Furthermore, as computer-assisted literacy
instruction becomes more commonplace in companies, the importance of vocational
institutions in the workplace literacy enterprise, at least in on-site
programs, would seem to diminish. What these observations suggest is that
vocational institutions must find a rationale for a role that transcends the
basic workplace literacy technology, and they must illustrate that they are
more cost-effective than other providers in offering workplace literacy
programs.
What is the case, if any, for a unique role for vocational institutions in the
workplace literacy enterprise? We are of the opinion that there is such a case
to be made, premised on these institutions holding to their tradition of
teaching basic skills in close relationship to technical skills (e.g., welding
math and business English), whether under the conditions of customized
training, ABE, or in their regular programming. When these institutions hold
basic literacy and work in close proximity, they play to their strengths. They
must, therefore, not divorce workplace literacy training from technical skills
training. When they assume the role of basic skills provider outside of a
practical context, they forfeit those strengths and any claims to uniqueness or
comparative advantage. In order to be unique and cost-effective and to show
comparative advantage, they must accentuate their strengths, which feature
hands-on applied learning accompanied by considerable opportunity for
success.