My results came as a surprise to my parents. I was 16, a junior in highschool, and did not show stereotypical signs of dyslexia, dyscalculia, dysgraphia, ADHD, or auditory processing disorder. I maintained a 3.0 GPA most semesters, and always ended up with an A in my English courses. I was not the perfect poster for these disabilities, for most of my academic career I skated by thinking math and science “just weren’t for me,” and that migraines after reading required novels were unrelated. I could manage science bookwork, and I could utilize cliff notes for novels – but math was a different story.
I remember the first time that I was told that I wasn’t developing in math like my peers. It was at my fifth grade conference, right after the bi-annual lecture about talking too much to my classmates and my teacher struggling to sit me next to someone that I wouldn’t immediately befriend. My teacher explained to my parents that I showed no progress in story problems, and that I was often the last to finish.
This would be the beginning of my downfall in math. I would continue to receive C’s or lower in the rest of my math courses until graduation. But, my problem was not the math itself, it was the wording of the problems and the methods used. I was docked points for finding the answers through different patterns, or taking story problems literally, and giving realistic answers instead of the figurative answers due to the fear of trick questions.
My attention, confidence, and esteem would plummet by the time highschool rolled around. I even amended my highschool schedule to place me into lower level math courses, instead of on-pace courses due to the lack of self confidence. Between my low visual and auditory processing, frequent mismatched numbers, misread instructions, and attention span – math would continue to increase in difficulty.
By the time that I had made it to my junior year I understood that I was not cut out for mathematics, which meant that I would not pursue higher levels in my favorite subject, science. I was falling behind in math so far that I had earned my first ever D. Luckily, my diagnosis had been delivered after winter break. My highschool advisor sent out my accommodation letters to my teachers and advised me to remind them to check their mailbox for it. I would quickly learn how my newfound academic solutions would create further personal problems down the line.
I have yet to forget the laugh that my math teacher gave me when I told her that I was dyslexic. The words that followed feel like they were just told to me yesterday, “What am I, realistically, supposed to do about that?” For the remaining semester, I would now be called on by my math teacher to answer questions on the board in front of my peers. This happened frequently, and my peers would ask me why only I was being called on during every class. After attempting to answer the questions, I was told that I was not paying attention (while I was actively taking notes). If I asked a clarifying question, I would be given a smirk, and a lecture on paying attention. During most instances, I was refused clarification and often told to “put my hand down and start paying attention,” so that I wouldn’t have questions. Eventually, I stopped asking questions, and began failing my final high school math course.
I wouldn’t take another math class until I was 23 years old, five years after my high school graduation, and six years after failing my last math class. The class was college preparatory course taught at the local community college. I was hesitant to mention my learning disabilities due to treatment in the past. But, my professor already suspected when I began placing numbers in different areas of the math equation. My answers were correct, and the work structures were correct, so the problem was awarded full credit. I filled notebooks with extra problems, I went to office hours and math labs several times a week. Eventually, my diligence in math paid off, as I would earn my first A.
I would continue to use the same study habits and office hours in my first credited math course the following semester. My professor answered every question, and explained how continuous numbers in a line could be challenging for her, in a kind effort to relate to my struggles. There was one specific time where I miswrote three double-digit numbers as she read them outloud. When I realized this after realizing about 15 numbers in, she said, “That’s okay. Let’s start over, and I’ll help.” After five months of questions, miswritten numbers, and office hour visits – and at the age of 23 – I would earn my first ever credited A in a math course.
As it turns out, math is for me. I carry the kindness and patience that was afforded to me in my later academics into my own teachings. I answer every question, hear every story, and assure that every mistake made is just part of learning. It was not too long ago that I was the student on the other side of the table, faced with the challenge of understanding new concepts. I understand what it feels like to be pulled out of the classroom for a writing group, and missing hot chocolate days because I missed the reading goal. I still may not be the quickest, and I may take up the entire testing hour to complete my exams, but under the right guidance and with the right support – I found my own way.
One Response
A great read yet so sad but… with a happy ending. There are so many children out there that are suffering from this and teachers are not picking up on it. I suffer from attention deficit and boy did I as a undiagnosed child. Luckily at this point in my life, I can say hey, it’s not worth it. I don’t have to understand it, and I can move on. But not children! So glad you found your way. You will make a huge difference in many children’s lives. You go girl❤️