Learning Disability

Early on I knew something was different with me at school. It was mid-elementary school and lessons were starting to get tough. But I spent hours on homework and still wasn’t grasping the concept. Many nights Mom and Dad had to finally coax me to bed, tearful and frustrated.

I remember the year my learning disability was discovered. Well I don’t remember the year; but I remember the teacher, I remember where the classroom was and how it was laid out. I remember the tests. If you have been through LD testing or have a child that has, then you know what I’m talking about. In case you haven’t I’ll explain. In order to be placed into an LD or special education category a number of tests have to be taken. They range from oral math questions to psychological test including one where you are shown a picture and have to make up a story to go along with the picture. Most people I have encountered who have been through these tests find them somewhat emotionally scaring.

As if you didn’t already feel different enough, or already have people telling you that you’re failing or just not trying hard enough; these tests make you feel stupid and inadequate. I suppose they way they make you feel also depends on the type and severity of the disability. As for me, I was found to have what was later described to me (by a teacher that finally understood I wasn’t stupid) as a visual motor integration processing deficit. What that means is that what I see with my eyes and then try to write with my hand or say with my mouth doesn’t match. To make things all the more fun I have dyslexia. Reading was and is very difficult for me.

The year they discovered my learning disability was either 3rd or 4th grade. I worked so hard that year; spent countless nights up doing homework and studying. I had always been taught that hard work paid off. It was time for some growing up. That year I couldn’t get above a C no matter how hard I worked or how hard I tried. The teacher kept telling me that I just wasn’t trying hard enough. That was when my parents, Mom in particular as I later found out, really pushed for me to be tested.

While the end result of the testing was life changing, the process was brutal. Over several days I was pulled out of class and had to go down to the main office to meet with the counselor. Some of the tests were fun, almost like games; like putting blocks together to match the pattern on a card as fast as you can. Others left me in tears. The math questions were distinctively painful and frustrating to me. Math was my strong subject, because there were no words involved in two plus two. These tests changed that. A question was read aloud, no pencil or paper can be used, and it’s a word question. Johnny has $5.00 and he wants to buy a soda for $0.50, a candy bar for $1.00, and a magazine for $2.75. If the tax rate is 7% how much extra money will Johnny have or need? ‘WHAT?! What 9-year-old can answer these questions? Am I really THIS dumb!? Should I be able to answer this? Oh wait I’m supposed to be coming up with an answer…what was the second thing Johnny wanted? What the heck is a tax rate anyway?’ The test giver would just look at me waiting for an answer. My mind would go blank and I would just start crying.

That’s the way those word questions always are too. It’s always some kid with a pet name; he’s not Jonathon or John, he’s Johnny. Johnny always has something that a kid never does, money he can spend on whatever he wants. Then the question throws distractions at you, soda and candy. For the final blow there is always an odd number $2.75, and something you don’t even know about, the tax rate. But this isn’t a one time thing, every three years or so the testing has to be done again.

The only thing that got me through all of this testing was my strength and my parents. They always told me it didn’t matter what grades I got; they knew I was trying my best and that was all that mattered. This motto has given me the courage to live life to its fullest, to take chances and always try my best. This love, unconditional and unfailing has gotten me through the darkest and longest of tunnels.

Most people that I know today are very surprised to find out that I was in special ed. There is still this stereotype, this stigma that goes along with special education that is unwarranted. Growing up I always thought as myself as learning disabled. But that’s simply not true. I am more than capable of learning almost anything that’s thrown at me, I merely do it differently.