David Flink’s Thinking Differently (2014) is my favourite “parent/self help” guide to dyslexia and learning disabilities.
And it’s the only book I’ve read that speaks to me both as parent and as a person with dyslexia.
In tone and in content, the book gives a positive, practical and empowering approach to parenting, studying and living with dyslexia and ADHD.
My 12-year-old daughter has a pretty kick-ass attitude about dyslexia. It’s more of a footnote¹ to her life, rather than something that defines or limits her.
Her success is a testament to her hard work and perseverance in the face of adversity–not caused by her learning differences, but by the lack of understanding and support she experienced early on at school. In particular, how the “wait and see” approach (also known as the “failure model“) made school harder than it needed to be for her in the long run.
Given her experience with the education system, what would she like you to know?
I have a learning disability difference. You can’t see it, but it’s real.
I felt its sting when I was a child in school, when you asked me to read out loud, when you told me I’d never learn math, when you said I’d never go to university. As an adult, I see it every time I pick up a book, read a recipe, write an essay, fill out tax forms, drive my car or go for a job interview.
It hasn’t always been easy, but I have adapted.
The hardest part is how you see me – and how you don’t.
My disability difference is dyslexia, the most common learning disability difference in the world. It affects an estimated 15-20% of the population across every race, culture, class and gender.
And yet, dyslexia is largely unknown, unsupported and ignored. Some days, I feel we are invisible. Other days, I feel we are completely misunderstood.
Me at three.
I remember this day clearly. I insisted on dressing myself. Mismatched mittens and wrongly buttoned sweater — it didn’t matter. I was pleased with the results. My father took this photo, a celebration of his fiercely independent child.
Me at three.
Happy, free, loved, accepted.
My life before school. At home with a mom and dad who let me be me.
All that changed, I changed, when I entered the public school system here in Canada.
I was identified as dyslexic at the age of 49. It was like finding the missing piece of an unfinished puzzle (to paraphrase Steven Spielberg). Finally, my life made sense. In the days that followed, I did what I always do: I wrote it out. Then, I published my story on my book blog Lost and Found Books.
Here is my dyslexia story. Something lost, something found. Continue reading
I’m a child and this is how I learnt to read or you could say how I didn’t.
When you think about giftedness you think that reading would be like a first sense, but it’s not. I didn’t learn the way the school teaches, here’s the summary:
Teacher: “Here kids this is how to pronounce the alphabet, now go read.”
Me (in my head): “teacher, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, that was so vague TEACH ME!”
It’s getting harder to ignore the growing number of dyslexia naysayers in the world. Your intentions may be good, but it hurts when you won’t say dyslexia.
Continue reading
As a parent, I struggle daily to ensure my daughter gets the help she needs to learn and be happy at school. Some days I succeed, other days are a miserable failure. It hurts to see her suffer needlessly.
More than 200 parents, students, educators and advocates attended the first Canadian dyslexia conference on Nov. 12, 2016 in Toronto. If you missed it, here’s a chance to see what the day looked like:
Annette Sang, a founding member of of Decoding Dyslexia Ontario and Elaine Keenan, president of the Ontario Branch – International Dyslexia Association, set the tone for the day with a powerful opening statement: “It’s a human right to learn to read.”
