When the attention of providers is directed at working-class women 'in the community', in 'outreach work' or in 'adult basic education' schemes, a further element becomes seemingly obligatory: child development and parent craft. For those who are 'isolated', 'unable to cope', 'bad managers' and pejoratively described as 'single parents', relevance and the development of skills is regularly defined in terms of being 'better mothers'. So that despite claims about 'individuality', 'personal development' and 'educational self-fulfilment' so beloved by adult educators, where women are concerned, it is as appendages of homes, husbands and children that they are usually assessed and catered for (pp.84-85).

The trend towards family literacy builds on this focus on women as mothers. Such programmes need to be examined carefully to see what messages they give to women. Isserlis et al (1994) have drawn attention to the contested possibilities for family literacy programmes. They identify programmes as using 'delivery' models or 'participatory' models. 'Delivery' models aim at 'remediation of perceived deficits that learners have. The delivery model wants to fix, or improve participants' abilities and skills. It assumes that others know things that parents do not and that parents need to learn these things.' They contrast this approach with a 'participatory' model which acknowledges and begins with 'strengths learners already possess.' 'These programmes involve participants in planning curriculum, identifying their own goals, and developing programming to reflect learners' real needs while increasing their existing abilities.' (1994:10)

I would argue that the delivery model assumes that middle-class parents know things working-class parents do not and aims to make working-class mothers more like middle-class mothers. White middle-class women are often the driving forces behind such programmes, which operate from unspoken assumptions about the inadequacy of working-class patterns of parenting. Participatory models may not be entirely unproblematic either, as the attempt to provide simply what learners ask for may lead to limitations in what can be offered, as we have already explored.

In Canada, however, funding for women's literacy is increasingly framed around 'family literacy', as if literacy for women can only be justified for the sake of the children. This funding framework can, as Isserlis et al. observe, reinforce traditional notions of family and of mothers' roles in the transmission of literacy practices. Certainly many women with children do want to improve their literacy skills for the sake of their children, they want to do a good job and know that the ability to help children with their homework is judged as part of their work. In my 1990 study of women in rural Nova Scotia I observed:

It is not only the women themselves who think that 'good' mothers should be literate. Teachers, 'experts' and the media regularly attribute working-class children's poor achievements in school to their parents' failure to read to their children, their lack of interest in education, the poor example they set, and even their failure to raise their children correctly. A counsellor in one upgrading and work-preparation programme attributed Maxine's children's school problems to Maxine's inadequate reading skills. She said that Maxine obviously did have a reading problem, even though Maxine herself didn't think she had any need for better skills. The counsellor felt that the fact that Maxine's children were in special schools 'showed' that Maxine's reading skills were inadequate. She felt that if Maxine's reading level had been better she might have been able to do more for her children. She had no doubt that if the children were doing poorly in school, the mother was responsible. It was Maxine's duty to improve her skills, in order to be an adequate mother. (1990:52-53)