1 fum and 4 thingers…

by anonymous, 15 years old

Thoughts of a 15-year-old young person with dyslexia

Some people are beginning to think that it’s not just dyslexia, that I have an auditory processing disorder too. At the moment, Siri is screwing me over as I look for the spelling of bath bombs. What, it has a B at the end? - that can’t be right. I delete it several times thinking Siri has got it wrong, thinking I am the smarter one. Using Siri is meant to be my way of not having to ask teachers or adults for help. But obviously it doesn’t work all the time and nor was it available for most of my primary schooling.

When I was four or five, I attended the nursery connected to my mother’s workplace. Driving home from it I asked her on what day would I be able to read. She might have thought I was joking but I was serious. I imagined my older brother had woken one day being able to read and I was waiting for it to happen to me. Just like you lose your baby teeth and these are then replaced overnight, reading felt like it should happen instantaneously.

My early primary education was taught completely in Gaelic. For a while I quite liked learning through this medium because it was less embarrassing to not be able to read Gaelic given that none of my friends could read it either. However, when they were reading and writing in both Gaelic and English they didn’t seem to struggle with either language and it was then that I began to feel less normal and therefore less smart. Failing in one language was bad enough but failing in BOTH languages felt humiliating.

I started in big groups of Learning Support and then very quickly moved to one-to-one support. In these sessions I memorised those early readers, like Six Dinner Sid, so that it appeared as though I could read phonetically. This made the lessons more bearable and less tiring for me and it amused me to show off, until the Pupil Support Assistant caught on. I later repeated this trick at high school with ‘Coraline’ and this time it meant I was ahead with the class novel and could contribute to Q-and-A sessions. This showed that I not only could do the work but I understood it as well as my classmates. Apparently one in ten people “suffer” dyslexia and sometimes my peers would try to relate with me when they had this condition. I hate other dyslexic people who assume they have the same level of difficulty as I have. I can’t relate to them but I can relate to those who have never been taught to read or to different language learners.

All of those beginning phonetic experiences were confusing and I never remember anyone trying to teach me how to read until P4 when it was obvious I was falling behind. I remember Learning Support staff and teachers getting annoyed when I couldn’t blend letters, or get things right consistently, or kept inserting the ‘p’ sound – I could feel their irritation and I wanted it to end. I wondered why they were teaching me and if it was so painful why they didn’t stop. I certainly wouldn’t have minded if they had. I wasn’t ashamed to make mistakes because I felt it was their problem to sort. I was miserable in all of their lessons and began to be unresponsive. Through lack of participation and lots of eye rolling, I made it very clear that I would rather be in class with my friends than in a lesson where I felt I wasn’t learning anything. I thought I was always very discreet in my hatred for the lessons but I now realise that it was probably frustrating for them, especially because they had no understanding of how to teach me. Also, any of the mistakes and difficulties I was having were not recognised and worked on. They were simply ignored. There was just an assumption that eventually I’d learn to read through exposure.

I’m sure if I went back to my primary school all my teachers would expect me to be reading fluently. Now I’m fifteen and have just spent six hours in learning support with someone who reads assignments to me and types my words. Whilst this takes away my independence it doesn’t bother me as much as it would have a couple of years ago. ►