Part 2: Dyslexia, An Ability

Written by Ian Whelan

Hi from me again; thank you for reading the first part of my story in the last edition of About the Town Magazine – we had some great feedback! Maybe the term ‘good feedback’ is the wrong description as the feedback relates to people who my story is very much their story, and a sad today case where a young teenager is in the process of been diagnosed with possible Dyslexia, and how mindlessly horrible some of her teachers are treating her.

My schooling experience consisted of shouting teachers, cursing and labelling me into the realm of stupidity. While my teacher was busy damming me to the realm of hell for not having me Irish homework done, he banged his hand on the table and stared at me with what looked like hate in his eyes. Despite my efforts, nothing ever came out of my mouth that fitted on their clean white page of expected wisdom; the fella was hopping mad at me. Unfortunately, Dyslexia had yet to be invented in dear old Ireland, and the little red-faced fella could not see my point of view. Back then, teachers were a tough bunch who loved the power they wheeled over the young minds in their charge. Many a child got 5 of the best; the steel ruler turned sideways across the back of one’s growing knuckles, I was that many a child… t’was me daily routine. School was a war zone for us ThickO’s!

I could see and clearly understand the teacher’s point of view. In fact, I still have a god-given talent for understanding other people’s points of view; this little mindful ability would change me little life on some future day. I realised there was a communication problem between me and the world, me with me wondering mind, speaking in me funny tongue, confused the ‘normal’ folk that called themselves adults. It dawned on me that all I needed to do was work out how to communicate with the rest of the world, which only took another 30 very odd years to the get the hang of, and is still a work in progress.

In later years, I realised how much I learned whilst attending the daily nightmare called school; fortunately for my fair mind, it had little to do with any of the intended curriculum on offer. That’s right, I managed to wander through school, growing a terrible bad temper, learning nothing but how to tell lies, dodge angry teachers, and the endless amount of schoolyard bullies that can only see one’s differences.

To be fair to my past teachers, they did a marvellous job with many of my friends… and of course, Dyslexia is a learning difficulty in its generalisation. My heart goes out to them who it will so cloud their future; tis’ so easy to find oneself stuck in someone else’s opinion of stupidity. For this reason, I write these words as there is another side of Dyslexia that the teachers never spoke of in my early days of trying to fit in with what was, and still is, considered intelligence.

Living in South Africa at the age of 33, a friend of mine told me that Albert Einstein was Dyslexic… one of the greatest minds in existence, a ‘ThickO’ like me! Wow me heart did soar to new heights. I only started studying Albert’s mind when I was in my early 30’s; in fact, I only started listening to me own thoughts; up to then, the world had convinced me that I had little to offer.

Now tis’ the new age of the internet, spell check, and predictive text! Up to this point, the world of knowledge was locked away from me in words I could not understand. To write words on a page was to have people laugh regardless of what I said. So many tears fell from me confused head in me distance of silence, trapped inside myself, living in two completely different worlds

that kept drifting further and further apart, stretching me to near breaking point.

T’was me good friend Anthony who has a relatively high IQ of 189 last count but still can’t cook, (modern intelligence a herd pleaser, me thinks) who like myself, had been separate from the herd, him for being too intelligent, for me being unable to communicate in a common civil tongue and for overusing me honour’s degree of a deep loathing for authority of any sort, a bit like old Albert… to be continued.

I use some simple little notions and practices to improve my reading ability and confidence, which significantly helps Dyslexia. An unusual process that seems to have little to do with improving one’s reading process, like poi dancing and drumming!

If you would like to find out more about this, feel free to contact me ianbanna@gmail.com

I leave you with a little thought:

Dyslexia has always been part of the human mind process; however, it only surfaced as a problem when the written word became the primary teaching process. This is something I urge all English teachers to explore and understand.