Discovering Dyslexia

Written by Mary Beth Castell

One Mother's Journey

My husband and I always said our daughter had a style of her own. She's the 3-year-old who said "flutterby" instead of "butterfly," the 4-year-old who wrote her name backward, the 5-year-old kindergartner who could discuss current events but could not tell time, tie her shoes or rhyme. During those years, we didn't give it much thought. It was all part of the package that made her unique. After all, she was very bright, had a colorful personality and solid self-esteem. She was a gift to others.

Within six weeks of entering first grade, her packaging quickly began to unravel. Reading was very difficult, and there was nothing easy about writing. In fact, all tasks associated with language were arduous. As a former elementary school teacher with a master's degree, I found this quite troublesome. Homework was stressful and we spent seemingly endless hours trying to read the most basic three- and four-letter words on her weekly word lists. While she could talk up a storm on almost any subject, I could not read her written stories; her writing was illegible.

After three months of struggling, we knew something was very wrong. Previous tests had placed her in the gifted range, and she put forth more effort than any child I'd ever taught during my years in the classroom.

Her teacher's response was one of "wait and see." We heard it could be "developmental lag," as our daughter was one of the youngest in her class. It was even suggested that she might repeat first grade. We were urged to "work harder" at home. Our daughter's spirit quickly deflated. She had frequent stomachaches and she dreaded going to school. This was not acceptable. It became evident she was not going to get the help she needed in the classroom. Thus, we began our search.

A Mother's Quest

I enrolled myself in a phonics class for educators where I was taught a multi-sensory program for teaching reading and writing that was developed by a local teacher. I implemented this program at home and worked with my daughter for hours each night. I even went into her classroom and taught parts of the program to her classmates so she wouldn't feel so alone. It wasn't quick or easy. It was, however, fun and effective! She began to read words. She learned more easily and began to catch up with the others in her class. Her self-esteem was on the upswing, and we celebrated every success!

Second grade was delightful. She had a young, energetic teacher with a "hands-on" approach to learning. This was my daughter's style of learning! She was very motivated and fell in love with school again. Never mind all the letter reversals, misspelled words and problems memorizing math facts; she could read the basic primers. We did it. Or so we thought.

Third grade hit like a ton of bricks! More difficult vocabulary, additional math facts, cursive writing and longer spelling lists quickly lead to frustration. Within weeks, I called her teacher who responded, "I think she has some sort of processing problem." I'll never forget those words. Parental instinct had told me for years that something was just not right. Why hadn't I acted sooner? Here we were, two educators who could not put a finger on what it was. It was a mystery to us.

Uncovering the Secret

I could hardly wait to tell my daughter. After reading the few dyslexia fact sheets we were given, it was very clear. I sat her down and told her the good news. I explained that the reason she had specific struggles actually has a name: dyslexia.

She cried. To my surprise, not tears of joy but tears of sadness. She yelled. She was angry. I stumbled, as I was shocked by her responses. Her first words were, "Now I know I'm different!" Oh, she knew for years and I had just confirmed it with the doctor's report. I cried with her. I cried the pain of a parent seeing her child hurt so deeply and feeling so helpless. She continued, "It's not fair!" I knew I would do everything in my power to help make it easier for her.

A Turning Point

Hours spent on the phone with local agencies provided little help and confirmed the fact that there was no local group for children with dyslexia. It was evident that while information and support was abundant for many other disabilities, very little was being done to meet the needs of families living with dyslexia. Just getting information to educate us was difficult. We still needed to educate her teachers. This all seemed inconceivable to us, as conservative estimates indicate that approximately 15 percent of the population is dyslexic!