“Literacy is Liberation”
“Reading is the foundation.” My Granny repeated this phrase to all ten of her grandchildren as we gathered at her house for the long, searing summers. Granny let us explore the Oakland neighborhood in which she lived, get into trouble with the children on our block, and start puerile arguments with each other as long as we did one thing; read.
For each day spent at Granny’s house, she would make sure that she carved out time for us to read. Bookshelves filled with undusted encyclopedias lined the walls of the front room of her small home. Across from her rocking chair, she had a dark stained wooden chest that held children’s storybooks for her grandchildren to bring to her, and she would enthusiastically read them to us. Although I have fond memories of Granny’s stories, as I grew up, it had never materialized into a love of reading. From my years as a secondary student, to finally completing my undergraduate degree, I still had not developed a love for reading. Furthermore, I had not understood the true significance of reading, and literacy as a whole.
My strained relationship with reading wasn’t reconciled until I found a story that resonated with me in ways that others hadn’t. A story that challenged my preconceived notions, pulled tightly at my heartstrings, and encouraged me to explore my identity and the sociohistorical context in which I live. Assata: An Autobiography shifted my views of reading and literacy. After reading Shakur’s prose and poetry, I set out to read as much as I can about women in the Black Liberation Movement. Inspiring words by Afeni Shakur, Angela Davis, Ericka Huggins, and others propelled me to explore my identity as a Black woman, and find the importance in those who came before me. Through reading, I have been able to traverse the personal stories and universal experiences of the lives of women who feel so familiar, yet so far. When I discovered my adoration of the written word, it unlocked an idea that I had not previously had. I started to understand how being able to read, and connect so deeply, with these stories is a privilege that is not accessible for many. I started my research on the literacy gap in black and brown communities, which deprives people of these communities the opportunity to explore their histories, which could potentially lead to a deeper exploration of self. Reading Assata Shakur’s work not only helped me find a fondness for reading, but also helped me to understand the importance of literacy. Through her work, I determined for myself that literacy is liberation.
One of my main takeaways from my continued studies of the Black Liberation Movement of the 60s and 70s is the idea of liberation of the mind, body, and soul. I want to acknowledge that liberation is different for all, and to me, literacy is the liberation of the mind. Literacy, the ability to read and write, gives access to the exploration of revolutions. It gives opportunities to delve into our rich histories and cultures, cultures that are both alike and contrasting to our own. Literacy provides the freedom to write and read our own stories. Stories of oppression, triumph, love, despair. Literacy is the way we can universally connect and interact with differing narratives.
Along with this, literacy gives us a way to understand the policies and systems that have direct impact on our communities. Communities with higher literacy rates have more navigational capital; they are able to navigate social and educational institutions in ways that people who are illiterate cannot. This is important when we consider the early literacy rates in Black and Brown communities across California. An example of this is shown in statistics provided by the Oakland Unified School District where in 2024, only 2 out of 10 black and brown students are reading at grade level. In the Sacramento Bee, it was reported that in Sacramento, only 25% of black third-grade students are proficient in ELA standards, compared to 50% for their white counterparts.
Black and brown communities having significant disparities among literacy rates is just one form of oppression, among many others. Although reading and writing alone does not constitute liberation, it is my belief that it is an important part. Liberation of the mind means bringing resources into our communities to support black and brown children, teenagers, and adults in access to literary education. Gifting black and brown children with a love of reading, learning, and exploring their stories, histories, and cultures is our responsibility as adults. Encouraging black and brown children to write about their own stories, find importance in their experiences and identities, and providing them a chance to do so, is our obligation. Teaching black and brown children how to read and write is simply not enough. Instead, we must emphasize the need of knowing how to read and write, and help them find the joy and freedom that comes alongside being literate.
A quote that has stuck with me ever since I have read it is, “if words can oppress us, words can also set us free.” Liberation is a lifelong process, one that is intricate and perplexing. Although there is not one set approach, I strongly believe that as a collective, we should all view literacy as libration.
