It's summer vacation, and my family is pretty new to the area, so today we went exploring. I'm driving the car and my daughter is navigating: -M is for me, D is for my daughter.
D- "Oh God Mom, I'm so bad at this, who knows where we'll end up? We've got plenty of gas haven't we?"
M- "You'll be fine, you'll soon get the hang of it."
M- "Harvey St, do you see it?. We're on Main and we just crossed Harvey."
M- "OK, Kelley, do you see Kelley?"
M-"What about Maple, we're crossing Maple, it's a big one, it MUST be there."
D- "It's not here, none of them are here! And the stupid page splits just where I need to see the road and of course there's this big box obliterating just about anything worth seeing."
M- "South, honey, we're going South. Are you sure you're not looking North?"
D- "Oh, THAT South, well would you look at that! Rowley did you say? Yup, it's here now. -Mom, can you imagine how hard this would be if I had dyslexia on top of how difficult this already is?"
And of course I don't suppose I could really image it at all. I help people with dyslexia every day but I'm not dyslexic and am always moved anew by the personal accounts my students give me. They say things like, " It's incredibly frustrating. I can read fine but my writing looks like a small kids. I can't spot my mistakes and then when someone points them out to me they seem so obvious and basic." "I make a joke of my dyslexia because I have to. My kids help me out a lot when I have to write something." "I hated school because I couldn't keep up with the books but I got along by being smart in other ways. I couldn't read or write much but I'm a great talker. When I left I even got a job delivering mail. I memorized names and street codes, I amazed even myself."
Dyslexia. How does it feel?