Volunteering to support an adult in learning to read
The onset of the pandemic disrupted my initial plans for retirement, and I was still working when, completely by chance, I heard a BBC Radio 4 appeal on behalf of a charity which helps adults learn to read.
It set me thinking about how much I would miss reading for pleasure and the opportunity to ‘escape into a book’ at the end of a busy day. More practically, could I possibly cope without my appointments’ diary, or without looking things up on the internet? I thought about how stressful it would be to receive an official-looking letter and not be able to read it immediately. I tried to imagine how I would navigate to a hospital appointment if I was unable to read signs. And how would one earn an honest living?
I was intrigued enough to look up the charity’s website https://readeasy.org.uk/ and was shocked to learn that 2.4 million adults in England alone cannot read at all or struggle to read. The charity provides free, confidential one-to-one coaching for any adult who either can’t read or who lacks confidence with reading. I watched some of the short heart-warming videos of previously illiterate adults describing how their lives had changed since they had learned to read with the charity’s assistance, and was moved to contact the local branch.
After a simple interview, I was accepted as a potential coach. There was an excellent day of training (on Zoom) which explained how to use the available resources. These include a series of manuals. On each double-page spread, the right-hand page has learning exercises for the reader, while the left-hand page has guidance notes for the coach. They have been written to suit adults with dyslexia.

Sometime later the co-ordinator introduced me to a local 40-year-old, whom I will call Jenny. I had agreed to meet her for half an hour, twice a week (holidays permitted) and to support her in her desire to learn to read. We had chosen to meet in person, but it is quite feasible to coach online. I have never taught anyone to read and, if I had known that Jenny was dyslexic and had attended a Special School, I would have been convinced that I was being set up to fail.
The first manual started by introducing phonics. It wasn’t easy, but Jenny persevered, despite a hearing impairment, and slowly made progress. It was interesting to watch her cautiously combine the sounds and realise that she could work out the meanings of words. I will always remember her amazement when she first recognised a word on a notice board, and it dawned on her that she could understand more of her surroundings. While she obviously enjoys our meetings, she finds them hard work as they require her to concentrate intensely - thirty minutes is quite long enough. Nevertheless, she remains keen and asks for exercises that she can do at home with her supportive husband.
Jenny determines the pace (very slow, with lots of repetition) and I remain patient and encouraging, reminding her of what she has achieved so far. She is now reading simple sentences and can send texts including more words than emojis. Sometimes she doesn’t seem to be making progress, but she persists and I know that there is support for us should we need it.
We meet in the local library as the charity stipulates that we must meet in a public place. I have observed how Jenny’s behaviour has changed since we first met. Initially she waited outside for me, whatever the weather. Now she always arrives early, and I will find her sitting at a table with a book open. She may be studying a list of words or listening to an audiobook. She downloads these through BorrowBox, a facility whereby one can borrow ebooks and eAudiobooks for free from the public library. Winnie-the-Pooh is her latest discovery, and it is lovely to see her quietly chuckling to herself. After our sessions she now often visits the children’s section and selects a colourful storybook to take home. Her current favourites are anything involving Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit. All the characters are new to her, and it seems as if she is enjoying a childhood experience she missed out on. It is a delight to watch.
I have always taken the ability to read for granted, and I am humbled by how difficult it is for Jenny to acquire this skill. I admire her courage in trying to learn it as an adult, especially when she has failed before, and feel honoured that she allows me to see her difficulties. Thankfully she can identify what helps her (rhymes and seeing words within words) and what doesn’t (explaining things a different way, and coloured overlays).
I have thoroughly enjoyed this volunteer role and seeing Jenny succeed and her horizons broaden. I look forward to our meetings, which take very little preparation. In addition, my physical fitness has benefited from the 25-minute walk into town twice a week, and having a swim beforehand is a further aid to being relaxed. As well as gaining a fascinating insight into what it means to be dyslexic, I have come to know and respect someone who has a very different experience of living in our town. I am in awe of how she copes. She has skills I envy – she doesn’t need a diary as she has a superb memory for dates and times. She is a keen cook and can make a cake without a recipe, judging the quantities of the ingredients by eye. However, she does have to rely on someone else to interpret the complicated messages she receives from her doctor’s surgery and about Universal Credit payments.
I have found this worthwhile venture interesting and rewarding. It requires minimal effort and pleasantly challenges my aging grey cells. Should you feel inspired to also try and help improve someone’s literacy there is no better time to volunteer as 2026 has been declared The National Year of Reading by the Department of Education. The campaign is designed to address the steep decline in reading amongst children, young people and adults and so boost their literacy and life chances.
Diana Jolliffe
Retired Consultant Anaesthetist