Tag: learning disability

Follow up: An Understanding Family #MFRWauthor

Last week, as part of the MFRW 52-week challenge blog posts, I wrote about the importance of my husband’s family as he fought through school with dyslexia. I just wanted to follow up with a YouTube video that we saw after we were married. When Jack viewed it he said that it showed exactly what it was like for him in the classroom. He also told me about a couple of teachers who recognized his difficulties and did things to make his class day easier for him while still keeping him in the group without being humiliated. Humiliation, unfortunately, played a part in too many of his classes.

The first thing he said one of his teachers did is stand in front of his row every time she was going to call on him for an answer to the next question. That gave him time to focus on what she would ask about. Another similar technique was when kids read paragraphs of text out loud. She started on the side of the room opposite him, He counted the paragraphs until she would reach him and again, he could focus on what he would have to do. Kids with learning disabilities–and even other conditions like shyness–need time to focus and prepare.

So this video is excellent. It was made many years ago but still applies to classrooms today. It’s long, but any part of it you watch is worthwhile. It’s called How Difficult Can this Be? A short three minute excerpt is here. If you’re a teacher or a parent with a child with learning disabilities, I know you will find this interesting.

Thanks!
Dee

An Understanding Family #MFRWauthor

I have struggled today to think of what only my family understands about me and I have to say, I couldn’t think of a thing. I mean, I’m kind of an open book. I asked hubby and even my mom and they thought the same—nope, what you see with Dee is what you get. Nothing special to understand there. I’m not sure if I’m pleased or ticked, but it is what it is. Still, my husband Jack is in a position to fit this topic.

Where I had polio as a baby, Jack had dyslexia. Two very different problems but both crippling in their own ways. With polio, I grew up having surgeries, limping, and wearing braces. My difficulties were easy to see. People quickly made my way easier because my problems were clear. Jack, on the other hand, suffered under the opposite perspective.

When we were in school, dyslexia wasn’t recognized as a learning difficulty. If you couldn’t read it was because you weren’t trying hard enough, you Dyslexiaweren’t reading enough, you were lazy or stupid. Jack’s teachers said as much about him in his classes. His problem was not plain to anyone looking at him. He looked sweet as an angel, but normal. Without some physical sign, there was nothing wrong. At least, that’s what people thought. So while I was given a pass for not being able to run, Jack was not given a pass for not being able to read.

That brings me to the topic of our blog post. No one but Jack’s family—and most particular, his mother—understood how hard he tried to do the things his teachers asked of him. Only his family knew the extra hours he put in studying, how lost he felt when he didn’t understand why he didn’t see theLearning disability same things the other kids did, or how much hurt he bottled up inside. His mom tried so hard to help him but didn’t know exactly what to do to make things better. Later, she gained her master’s degree in education with a specialty in reading so she could help other kids with Jack’s problem, so some good came of his hard time growing up. And as his family now, only I truly understand his pride in finishing his degree summa cum laude. It was a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of him.

All of his feelings about school were impossible to explain to friends. Beyond his actual physical disability, years of trying and failing to succeed at schooling takes a psychological toll, too. But that’s what family is for, right? To support and be there when no one else understands what’s going on in your life?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!