By Zach Booth
I have had a mostly normal childhood – nice house, good family – maybe less friends than normal. However, one thing has shaped my life for better or for worse. When I was in second grade, I was diagnosed with dyslexia, dysgraphia (known at the time as “motor function problems”), dyscalculia, and, later in life, executive functioning problems. 
When I was young, I just thought that I was stupid and that no matter how hard my teachers tried to teach me something, I was just going to forget it. Luckily, my mother had the foresight to get me tested for dyslexia (two out of three of my uncles have it). After this, I was moved from public school to Kildonan, a school dedicated to helping children with dyslexia and ADHD (attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder). When I entered Kildonan, I was reading and writing at two levels below my grade level; however, when I left, I was reading four above – which was no easy feat, I admit. Once my family and I decided that I had learned all I could at Kildonan, they moved me to my sister’s school, Dutchess Day. There, I encountered my first learning problems that weren’t either self-imposed or the result of bullies.
Instead, I encountered a teacher who was an obstacle. When I walked into my first English class, the English teacher announced a vocabulary test on the following Friday. Well, I had been trained in the use of Assistive Technology (AT) – programs and devices created to help people with problems reading and writing to get on an equal par with those without these issues.
When I asked the teacher what kind of AT I could use for the test, she asked if I could just write it by hand – something I was unused to. Since I’m a generally polite person, I said that would be fine, but I incorrectly supposed this would be just that one time. The next week, however, she tried the same thing. But this time I asked if I could take the test on an iPad or computer. But this did not go over well, chiefly because she was afraid I would cheat. Now, to be honest, I will say that I have heard this assumption about people who use AT before. Most people who know a person who needs AT will tell you that it is a load of hogwash. The technology we depend on is what truly decides whether we sink or swim at school. However, because of this teacher’s incorrect assumptions, I had to write by hand.
Over the years, I have heard many things about dyslexia – that I would get over it in time, that I was stupid or lazy. I was told that I wasn’t trying even when I knew I was trying my hardest. One of the biggest untruths that I have heard about dyslexia, however, is that it is something to be embraced, and that I should let people treat me differently just because I have problems reading and writing.
When I was diagnosed, dyslexia was a “learning disorder”, meaning that there is a hardwired problem with the brain’s chemistry. When I left Kildonan in 2013, however, the terminology was changed to “learning disability”, which implies that it is something to be overcome rather than coped with. I will never say anything more firmly than this: dyslexia and its sisters are not things that can be overcome! You can cope with them, learn to work around them, and train your brain to work like any other person, but, no matter what, you will always have problems in these areas, no matter how small or large they may be.
I can honestly say that I would not be the same person I am if I didn’t have dyslexia. For one, I probably wouldn’t be at Canterbury. For another, I would likely be much more outgoing, mainly because since I was picked on as a child, I didn’t want to make friends, and so I’ve become much more introverted. I also probably wouldn’t be as focused on my studies as I am since I wouldn’t feel like I had something to prove.
To finish, I would just like to say that there is something that we (dyslexics) have to prove to the world – and that is that we can work just as well as anyone, and at times better! We may be different, but different is good.
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