How the DMACC Adult Literacy Center Has Spent 50 Years Quietly Changing Lives

Kay Runner remembers sitting in her car outside the building, a small office in a commercial strip mall in the Drake neighborhood of downtown Des Moines - a place she'd heard about from her neice, who suggested Kay check it out.

It was the late 80s or early 90s (Kay can't recall precisely) but she does remember parking outside on two more occassions before she "finally got up enough nerve to go in."

"And I'm glad that I did," Kay said decades later. "It took me three tries, because I was afraid."

Afraid of walking through the door.

Afraid of saying the words out loud.

Afraid of admitting what she had spent her life hiding.

"That I couldn't read."

When Kay finally stepped inside what would later become the Adult Literacy Center (ALC). At that point, she was already living a full, complicated adult life - working, managing responsibilities, navigating the world through a web of workarounds few people could see.

A Hidden Disability

Low literacy is often called a hidden disability because, unlike a wheelchair or a cane, it doesn't announce itself. There is no outward signal that someone is struggling. Instead, people develop strategies: memorizing routes so they don't have to read street signs, relying on others to fill out forms, avoiding situations where reading or spelling might expose them.

Kay (pictured above, right) is dyslexic - a condition that runs in her family - and spent much of her school years masking her struggle.

"I was the class clown," she said. "If I didn't understand something, I'd make everybody laugh. Even the teacher."

But as she became an adult, and a hardworking working produce manager at the since-closed downtown Des Moines Safeway. In that role, Kay would often call her mother, who was "an excellent reader and speller," to help her read documents.

As the years pass, that childhood confusion often calcifies into shame.

"You internalize it," said Anne Murr, longtime coordinator and co-leader of the Adult Literacy Center, which has been located at DMACC Urban Campus since 2018. "People begin to believe, 'I'm stupid. And I'm going to keep it to myself.'"

That hidden shame is exactly what the Adult Literacy Center exists to dismantle.

From the beginning, the ALC has been built around one central idea: individual attention in a safe, nonjudgmental space.

"That's really the basis of the Adult Literacy Center," said Anne, who is pictured in the photo to the right in her Urban Campus office. "We try to help our students find the right tutor - the right match - someone who will work with them."

Students aren't handed a one-size-fits-all solution. Tutors are paired thoughtfully, often with specific learning needs in mind, including dyslexia or English language learning. Instruction combines structured skill-building with human connection.

For Kay, that environment changed everything.

"You feel safe," she said. "You can talk about whatever. You're recognized. And therefore you don't hold back. You open up and try to learn more."

Kay earned her GED with help from the ALC - fulfilling a promise she had made to her parents. And long after she reached that goal, she kept coming back.

"I don't want to stop coming," she said. "If you stop practicing, you lose it. It's the community."

"These ladies are very important to me," she added, pointing to Anne and Vicki Merrifield, who shares responsibilities at the ALC and works directly with students and volunteers.

Today, Kay describes herself as a "ferocious reader." She even became confident enough to tutor others - something she once could not imagine.

Fifty Years of Quiet Persistence

As the Adult Literacy Center celebrates its 50th anniversary, its survival story mirrors the perseverance of the adults it serves.

The program began in 1976, when Drake University and Des Moines Area Community College jointly received a federal HEW grant to establish the Des Moines Area Reading Academy. Drake education students trained as tutors; DMACC referred students; community volunteers and adult learners filled the rooms.

When federal funding ended in 1980, DMACC's participation paused - but the program didn't disappear. Dedicated individuals at Drake, including faculty and volunteers, carried the work forward.

In 1999, Anne Murr joined the program, then known as the Drake University Adult Literacy Center. Under her leadership, the Center deepened its relationship-driven model, expanded training for volunteers, and strengthened its focus on adult dignity and empowerment.

In 2018, the Center returned to DMACC through a collaborative transition involving DMACC President Rob Denson, Drake leaders, and longstanding relationships built over decades.

"That relationship-building in the background - that's what keeps programs like this alive," Vickie said. "It's always who you know and who believes in you."

Since moving to DMACC, the ALC has served more than 1,000 adults, supported by over 300 volunteer Literacy Coaches, and funded primarily through United Way of Central Iowa investments - making the program entirely free for students.

"All of the services are volunteers," said Vickie, who is pictured in the photo to the left (on the far right) tutoring a student in 2024. "That's what's unique."

One learner said simply, "My tutor believed in me long before I did."

Adults enrolled in the Center report life-changing outcomes: earning driver's licenses, enrolling in DMACC classes, completing degrees, becoming citizens, advancing in careers, helping their children succeed in school, and - for some - becoming an avid reader for the first time well into their 70s.

Many volunteers return again and again - "hooked," as Vickie puts it - tutoring multiple students over the years.

"As a volunteer, you have the opportunity to learn about diversity in a whole new way," Anne said. "You learn about someone's culture, their immigrant experience. You form a relationship that enriches your own life."

No story captures the emotional truth of adult literacy more powerfully than the words of Norma Kay, a longtime ALC student and advocate whose writing continues to shape the program's mission.

Her poem, often called Norma's Declaration, reframes literacy not as a personal failure, but as a societal responsibility:

If I was in a wheelchair, you would open the door for me

But I can't read, and doors continue to close for me.

I have a hidden disability with the written word

It's an embarrassing secret. I don't want to tell you.

I suffer in silence.

But it is Your Problem.

We are human beings, contributing to society.

For Anne and Vickie, Norma's words remain a call to action.

"Our goal is always to reduce the shame, to let people know they are not broken - and they are not alone," Anne said.

Today, Vickie imagines the moment Kay described, the memory from a few decades ago, and worries about adults who might be sitting outside, unsure if they can walk inside.

"We have people waiting, and sometimes they fall by the wayside because they get tired of waiting" Vicki said. "That's why awareness about the opportunities here at the ALC is so important."

For Kay, that first step changed everything.

"I'm a much better person," she said. "The more that I read, the more knowledge I gain."

And for those still sitting in their cars, wondering if they can do it?

The door is open.

Fifty years in, the Adult Literacy Center continues to do its work quietly - one conversation, one relationship, one breakthrough at a time.

And for those still sitting in their cars, wondering if they can do it?

The door is open.

For more information about the Adult Literacy Center at DMACC, visit:

Interested in becoming a volunteer for the Adult Literacy Center, contact: