Dyslexia: – a blessing.
First I write this to explain why you may find spelling errors and typos on my blog and website. Secondly to point out how having Dyslexia has shaped my life path.
I have had dyslexia as long as I can remember, when I was at school I was just called slow (or stupid) I never even heard of dyslexia until I had left school. I guess if tests had been around when I was a kid, I would have been spared much embarrassment but my life path could have been completely different and not necessarily for the better.
As a child I could not learn my multiplication, I found reading very hard and spelling was impossible. As for grammar well I just put in some of that punctuation stuff and hoped for the best. It was impossible to grasp for years (and I still find it very hard). Many times as a kid, I was made to stand on my chair or table to show to the class I had scored low on maths and spelling tests. At the time this was humiliation that was hard to bear, but on reflection it was a blessing in that it shaped a mindset that tormented me daily but in time would set me free.
Dyslexia for me meant and still means I can’t remember phone numbers, don’t write messages as I won’t be able to read them back, can’t work out maths problems without writing them down (maths in the head is impossible beyond the basics). Write anything from a short e-mail to this blog without checking it and checking it and still missing things that the spell checker hadn’t flagged.
Some months ago I got a software program that reads what I type back to me. This has helped a lot but even then the grammar is less than perfect. My mind is buzzing with things I want to write but having to wait for my wife to give my work the all clear is frustrating not only because she has her own job to do, but that I want to post or send a message when I want. My networking (I hate that cold and calculated word) lets say my online friendships would be in a greater abundance and further forward if it wasn’t for dyslexia.
I should point out; I have a deep grasp and love of words. I enjoy finding new ones and tormenting my dad with them ‘what the hell does that mean’ he moans… I guess it’s just my ego enjoying the fact that while I can’t spell any of these words I know what they mean and after some time can pronounce them and impress (rather shallow really but hey that’s the ego for you) ….
I have to say School failed me so deeply that it took years for me to calm the pain and hatred. I still believe that school has little to offer anyone. Life is a greater teacher than any professor can ever be. Schools, exams, universities etc etc are just easy ways of boxing up people in a world that simply doesn’t have the interest or time to figure out the great gift each of us has within. For me, if after a few years it becomes obvious that someone is not going to be the next great words-smith or mathematician why waste their time forcing a square peg in a round hole. Give them what they need to get through life and find out what they really are good at: cooking, gardening, mechanics, drawing, singing, running etc etc… and focus on enhancing that. They will undoubtedly, like me and my father before me, return to adult learning to improve maths and English when they are happy to do so.
It is a fact I taught myself to read. I can read anything if I am interested in what it has to say. To some that may sound like laziness but I can assure you it’s not. If I am going to devote hours to reading something, I’d better be getting something from the struggle. I finally began to read as a child when I discovered comic books. Now the teachers could have helped this but they, once again, viewed it with a tunnel vision – you must read this book… This book was usually the most mind crunchingly boring rubbish about children doing and seeing stuff that I did everyday. But when I discovered spider-man, hulk, the star wars comics and 2000 ad, finally I wanted to know what it all meant and the fact the text was limited to a few lines and echoed the action in the image helped a lot. After all I was visually driven and I was basically able to expand on the little ability I did have to read. I dragged myself up to a standard that gets me through life thanks to the very things parents and teachers never want you to read.
As I was going nowhere fast in the standard lessons at school and I lived in fear of the many dictation classes, maths test, reading aloud etc etc… art became a subject I was able to relax in and enjoy. I had to say I wasn’t really that great at that time but the freedom oh the freedom was wonderful. For two hours a week I was able to sit up straight and not hide at the back of the class for fear of being picked. (Note I personally discovered later that I got picked on far less if I sat right at the front of the class.)
When it finally came to choose my career path, I wanted to do one thing and one thing only – become a visual effects man working for the BBC doing programs like Dr who and Blake 7…..but you needed a contact as it was in those days – as it is now -not what you knew but who you knew …my father knew a man who did work in the BBC and it was suggested that I could get a job as a tea/cleaner boy with a view that it would be a foot in the door and I could slowly work my way up. This was a dream come true except it didn’t. That year the BBC changed its policies and only university students could get jobs at the BBC. I saw there and then that life through the normal channels had very little to do with doing what you love and more to do with being able to jump through hoops. My wife has a university 1st in civil engineering but sadly she is married to a person to whom such things mean nothing. I give all people the same level of respect and time regardless of a piece of paper.
At 16 I was given the choice of enduring more embarrassment in education or getting a job and earning some money as a free man …Yes you guessed it I chose the second option. But here once again my dyslexia forced me into a path I would never have chosen ….I worked at a builders merchant (hardware store) which my father was the manager…I can’t say at the time the job really set my world alight but £60 in cash in a brown envelope at the end of every week seemed like a million dollars. As my maths was still below par and my spelling was yuck not to mention a I had a phobia of phones which still persists ( I like to see who I’m talking to!!!) ..I got to do all the glamorous jobs… make tea, carry cement, clean toilets, sweep floors, clean windows and my favourite job of all counting out five black bags folding them, rolling them and then binding them to be sold in a bucket out the front of the store. I folded thousands and thousands of these bags in the years at the job. I took great pride in making sure their folds and rolls were perfect. Looking back I see this bag rolling was almost like a meditation practice. I spent hours and days commander of my own stock room, left alone to work, think and listen to radio4 documentaries. Even now in some ways the peace, calm and ordered nature of the job still brings a smile to my face …
Most in society would have hated a job with little interaction, or possibilities of expansion but I was happy to go to work. It was stress free and on reflection my Dyslexia had given me a job that gave me plenty of time to contemplate life. The years rolled on and I expanded my role in the company until I became a buyer and a manager. Even now the sight of good quality hand tools or well made ironmongery lifts my heart (I weep at the rubbish people buy at DIY stores these days.)
Fast forwarding to the present day: -While I am now a full time artist my dyslexia still holds me back to a point but it does focus me. I still get frustrated when I realise I have sent someone an e-mail that is less than perfect English. But often the way that e-mail is received determines the level of ego controlling the reader and it also helps me to determine who has an open heart and mind.
If the e-mail gets no reply the person has probably viewed me on a level of words and found me less than human to the point they can’t even honour me with a reply (they have many life lessons to learn)
If they have replied but pointed out the errors this may mean a) Their ego has jumped for joy at the chance to point out another short coming b) They generally want to point out the errors so you can correct them and stop making yourself look a fool.(Either are painful for my ego who sees it ultimately much like pointing out to a cripple no you walk like this) c) Is the best option and the rarest… the e-mail is replied to as best as possible with no reference to the spelling the message has truly been absorbed and understood beyond the level of words – a link has been made and honoured.
All the information I have discovered on spiritual subjects I have learnt from audio books, pod casts and websites -Read to me by my computer. Very rarely do I subject myself to reading a full book. In just a few years, I have expanded my brain with information and made contacts with thousands of people across the world. Now I even write stuff that help others think and grow… I am fully aware my ego would love to seek out my old teachers and say look what I‘ve achieved! You said I would never amount to anything. (‘Tony is a nice boy but must try harder’ – I was trying harder than they ever knew.)
Every disability in life no matter how distressing is a learning tool given by the universe in order to teach you a lesson. People with disabilities can be very frustrating to so called normal and able people. They can bring embarrassment and are often hidden away from the comfort of society. Has my life been shaped by my dyslexia? You bet! Would I change my life? No it’s perfect and always has been.
Did I mention I also have bipolar? Cool… well I’ll leave that for another day.
