Resilient

Lochie would have to be the most resilient person I know.
After leaving school at 14, now 20, he has completed an apprenticeship, bought himself a brand new car, boat and caravan and is currently saving for his first home.  He is in year 2 of his second apprenticeship just to top it off.  Quite an achievement for a kid who can barely read.

He decided to start a Cert IV in Business.  Looking to the future, he wants to build houses as a qualified building, and also fit them out as a qualified cabinet maker.  I warned him there was a lot of work in Cert IV Business but he was determined.

The first few weeks went well.  He told me how he was first to know the answers, how he had the best ideas and was a bit of teachers pet.  Quite different from his earlier school years.  He was going so well that when the teacher asked him to read his business plan out to the class he tried to do it.  Dyslexic sometimes sneaks up on you and he wasn't able to read it.  He got words mixed up and was slow.  The class laughed at him.  He told them he was dyxlexic and their response was "we didnt know you were retarded". 

He came home in tears.  I asked why he read out aloud instead of just saying no.  His response broke my heart. 
"Mum, I forgot I was stupid".

Dyslexic kids struggle and when they grow up it doesnt become easier.   However, he went off the class the next week and has continued with it.





My Childrens book in Open Dyslexic font will help dyslexic kids enjoy reading and build their confidence.  Check out the link and I'm really interested in your feedback.

http://www.p101.com.au/dyslexiaenhanced.htm

Thanks

Dyslexic Friendly book

Many of you have been following my stories about Lochie.  I've also had many messages and emails asking when my book will be ready for release.  Spider and Bat IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRESALE!!

Spider and Bat is printed in Open Dyslexic font and is interesting enough to engage the intelligent dyslexic mind.  All Spider and Bat advententures have a personal development element.  As a qualified Youth Worker, I believe that all stories should encourge learning and discussion.

Lochie developed a strong fear, even hate of books when he was about 8.  To him, they were something all his friends could master, but he could not.   There are a few publishers now releasing novels in Open Dyslexic font which is fantastic, but I believe that a childrens book series can assist a dyslexic child before they become reluctant to read.

Spider and Bat is a flip book, meaning that reading from front to back it is in Open Dyslexic font.  Turn it to the back and read in normal text.  This means, if you have a dyslexic child, they can learn to read the Open Dyslexic font and you can read them the story in normal text.  Or, if you are a dyslexic parent, you can read to your child!

When Lochie read Spider and Bat for the first time, he looked up and said "This is amazing, the words dont move".  I just wish someone had developed something like this much earlier.

This book is the start of a series.  Available now for presale on http://www.p101.com.au/dyslexiaenhanced.htm.  In order for me to get these books printed and sent, I need to presell.

All of you that have encouraged me alog the way, this is now the time to support.  Please go check out the link.

Parent Teacher Interview

Standing in the huge school hall filled with rows and rows of desks my mind flashed back to the days of high school exams.  Today, however, was not about exams.  It was about something that made me more nervous than any VCE student.  Year 7 Parent Teacher interviews.

My stomach churned as I looked around for the teachers who had "requested" interviews with me to discuss Lochie's education.  I lined up at Mr Barlow, the woodwork teacher, first.  Lochie was so good with his hands that surely this would be a positive one to start with.
I watched Mr Barlows current interview.  Mr Barlow, parent and child were all looking relaxed and smiling a lot.  Perhaps this might be an ok interview.  Mr Barlow might be really nice.
"Thank you so much for coming", smiled Mr Barlow as he shook the hand of the smiling parent and ruffled the hair of the cheerful little boy as they bounced off to see the next teacher.
He beconed for me to come and sit.  I looked around anxiously for Lochie.  He seemed to have disappeared.  Surprise, thats not unusual for Lochie.  Always distracted.
"Come, come", called the teacher again.  I sat on the hard chair, and glanced around again for Lochie. 
"So, and who's parent are you", he asked smiling.
"Lachlan Montgomery, 7S", I smiled back.  I caught a glimpse of Lochie out of the corner of my eye and started waving.  He didn't see me.
I looked back to Mr Barlow.  He was no longer smiling.
"Hmmm", he said.  "Lochie, is often somewhat distracted in class.  He is failing woodwork."
My heart sank.  Surely Lochie would be doing ok in a class like this.
"Seriously?", I asked.
"Yes.  He seems unable to follow instructions.  There is nothing wrong with the quality of work he achieves, but, he doesn't follow the process that is written out and therefore makes errors."
Oh no, it seems that even a woodwork class relys on written instructions. Don't teachers ever teach anymore?

"I see.  Did you realise that Lochie is dyslexic and the written instructions would cause a problem for him?  It is clearly noted in his file." I explained.
"I didn't know but I don't care." Mr Barlow was clear.  He had no intention of arguing the point.  To him, Lochie wasn't easy.  He was too creative, too quick and did things before he had been shown.  A problem in the class.
Result: Fail for woodwork

I was really disappointed, and surprised.  Lochie explained later how woodwork class was conducted.  Students came in and were handed a sheet of instructions.  The teacher showed the finished product and explained what tools would be required along with strict safety guidelines.  Students then had to follow the instructions and produce identical pencil boxes, model airplanes etc.  Lochie said that it was true that he rarely read the instructions and simply looked at the finished product and made it.  He said his was usually better adding in things like rounded corners, shaped feet or extra hinges.
I sighed.  How can you win that battle.  He produced a great product but didnt fit into the box the teacher needed him to.
If I were a teacher and had a student that had a talent for woodwork and was failing every other class (except physical education), I would put in efforts to engage with him and expand his talents.  If the whole education system is aimed at engaging students in school until they are 17, how can teachers not attempt to engage using a students talent just because it takes a little extra effort.

A class that should have been enjoyable and an escape from the constant pressure to read, failed to provide that environment.

Instead, it joined the long list of things that school did to destry Lochie's self esteem and happiness. 

What will I be when I grow up

Trent, Lochie and Haydn were discussing careers. Trent has been many things but is now settled as a Protective Services Officer and really enjoying it.  Haydn, also, has a had a few different careers but has recently applied as a PSO as well.  Lochie, hasn't really changed.  He started his apprenticeship when he was 16 and at 20, is nearly qualified as a cabinet maker.  Not satisfied with that, he is now starting a carpentry apprenticeship. 

Lochie was saying that while he enjoys working with wood, he would really perfer to be an osteopath.  He watches many shows and studies on the internet about the human body, muscles, health etc.  He was asked why he didnt return to study.

"No way," he said, "I'm too stupid". 

Its amazing that the most intelligent person in the room, is also the person who thinks of himself as stupid. 

He remembers things better than anyone I've ever met.  His ability to find solutions to problems is also outstanding. 

Perhaps if Lochie's school experince had been different.  If teachers had understood his learning problems and given support instead of calling him lazy, he may not see himself as stupid.  He may see the value in his incredible brain and feel that he is gifted rather than disabled. 

Please give dyslexic people a chance.   Don't judge people on reading ability only.  Intelligence is often hidden.

Dyslexia in workplace

So much of the world revolves around reading.  People who have no trouble reading, don't even notice it.  A flyer on the wall of the post office, political brochures, newspapers, instructions, menu's...the list is endless. 
One thing I hadn't thought of before was all the paperwork when you start a new job.
As much as starting a job can be daunting for anybody, imagine sitting down to read and sign all the policies, OHS documents and tax forms that come with starting a new position.

For many jobs, dyslexia isn't a problem, in fact, the skills and thought processes of a dyslexic person can be a huge asset for many organisations.  And yet, in the formal induction or training, we still sit people down with paperwork. 

Companies who hire apprentices for trades frustrate me the most.  Many kids excel at trades and working with their hands, but don't do well at school.  Whether they are dyslexic or just have learning difficulties is irrelevant.  Still, those companies simply sit those kids in front of a computer to do an online induction or hand them booklets of policy and OHS documents and tell them to read, complete and sign. 

Imagine for a moment that you are a 16 year old boy, who has always struggled to read.  You are lucky enough to get an apprenticeship and you turn up for you first day, already nervous.  Your boss walks in and hands you a large document, plus a tax form and says "get this read and signed before you can start". 
You look at the document.   It looks very important and formal.  A contract.  The words are long and you can't read them.  The more you look the harder it gets to understand them.  You feel your stomach in knots and your breathing becomes shallow.  Your head starts to pound and you begin to wonder if you are going to be able to do this job at all if you can't even do the first thing they ask of you.  Your mind begins to think of just taking off out the door and never coming back.   Fear is a terrible thing. 
Just then, your boss walks back in.  "Geez, that should have only taken a minute, what they hell have you been doing?".  
You hurridly sign the documents and hand them over.   You look out into the workshop, already feeling that you don't fit here.  Too stupid. 

Organisations need to think about having appropriate induction processes which build confidence, not destroy it.  Motivate and encourage rather than scare.   People who are motivated to do well, achieve more than people who are scared to do poorly. 

Consider learning styles when designing induction programs. Just because someone has a problem with reading, doens't reflect on their intelligence.  Often people with reading difficulties are more resilient, dedicated and motivated than others that everything comes easy to.

Words hurt...

“A teacher sent the following note home with a six-year-old boy: “He is too stupid to learn.” That boy was Thomas A. Edison”.
- Thomas Edison


Teachers need to think about the power of their words.  Lochie was constantly told he wasn't trying.  It caused incredible frustrations for him. 
Imagine trying your hardest to run a race, absolutely making your body ache with pain and efforts.  Then having your coach turn around and tell you that you didn't try?
That is the same as telling a dsylexic that they aren't trying.  Lochie sees words move, flip, fade and change as he concentrates hard.  So hard that he makes his head hurt.  Then a teacher standing over you, telling you that you  haven't tried.

Imagine little Thomas Edison, six years old, trotting home from school with a note in his pocket to let his parents know that he is too stupid to learn.  What was he feeling?  How did he have the energy to get up each day and continue to learn and grow and develop into the icon that he is? 

Resilience.  It would be a wonderful world if we didn't need it but we do. 

Each word that passes your lips has the ability to spread joy or hurt.  Think carefully as your words could be poisen. 
 

Reading

“Lochie, your turn”.

Upon hearing those words, a heavy stone formed in my stomach, weighing me down further as each moment passed.  Everything is going in slow motion.  I imagined the stone becoming so heavy that it would force me down through the floor and into the earth with only my head poking up.   I braced my legs and hoped that it would happen. 

The clock on the wall was shouting down at me, “THREE MINUTES TO GO”, teasing me with each slight movement of the second hand.  I blinked and stared at it.  It seemed to have moved backwards.  How was that possible?  As I watched that hand, it seemed to be that the movements were in tune with the pounding in my head as the blood rushed through my brain, searching for the area which held the knowledge I needed.  Would it find it this time?  It doesn’t usually.  Stupid brain lets me down all the time.

My stomach now had butterflies fluttering around the stone.  I could picture them clearly flying around, pausing to land on the stone.  Surprisingly those little butterflies made the stone even heavier.  Who would have thought that?  They look so light?   I imagined again being swallowed up by the ground below me.  

Original Artwork Opal Vagelatos 2012

“Lochie!”

I glared at the clock are realised that all the imagining in the world wasn’t going to make this go away.  I swallowed hard, wiped my sweaty hands on my pants, scratched my head and looked down at the page. 

It was worse than normal.  All I could see was black lines, moving like waves lapping onto the shore, and the white rivers running through them.  The harder I looked, the more everything moved.  Waves and rivers, moving, getting bigger, smaller, moving moving.  I felt sick. 

“Can I go to the toilet”?  I asked.

“Lochie there are two minutes before the bell.   Just do your reading and then you can go”, replied the teacher getting annoyed.

I look back down at the page.  The black wavy lines were faint and still moving.  I could feel the acid raising in my stomach and sitting in my throat.  Burning.   A very unpleasant sensation.  I wiped my hands on my pants again and picked up the book.  I took a last glance at the ground.  It didn’t look like I was going to be swallowed up in time.  My mind went briefly to thoughts I have had before.  Bad thoughts, about V-line trains and never having to go to school again.

Squinting, I put the book close to my face.  “Sir, I haven’t got my glasses, I can’t see it”.

“Lochie, you don’t wear glasses”, he said exasperated.

“No wonder I can’t see it then!”, I said.  There were a few giggles from my classmates.  I put on my charming smile and looked around the class. The smart girls were rolling their eyes but most of the kids looked amused.

Ding……..ding……..ding…….ding 

Saved by the bell.  I grabbed my bag and ran.  I was out the door before the teacher could say “please stack your chairs”.  I knew he would catch up with me the next day but for now, I was out of there!  I could breathe.  My head no longer pounded.  The stone in my stomach had reduced, but was still there as a reminder that it was only a temporary reprieve and that I will still have to face up to the teacher tomorrow.  Maybe not.  Perhaps I’ll never go back to school again. 

These few paragraphs were put together with my son Lochie who is dyslexic.  It shows the absolute fear and pressure that schools put onto kids with a learning disability.  I certainly hope that teachers read this and get a bit of an insight into what goes on in the head of some of these kids. 

It is also the introduction to a book that Lochie and I are putting together to raise awareness of dyslexia. The book will tell stories of what Lochie, and other kids like him have been through.  Lochie is a survivor.

It never ends.....

Currently on a three day getaway in Adelaide.  Only 8 hours drive from home and not doing anything in particular.  Lochie couldn’t get time off work so he couldn’t come.  Mind you, he is 19, fully licenced and fully capable of caring for himself. 

5am the phone rings. 

“Hey Mum”, Loc says.

“Hey Loc, what’s up?”

“My car has dead battery, do you know where the jumper leads are?” 

“No, why don’t you just get the train?”

“Ok,” he says.  “I think it’s a pretty shit day already”.

“Loc the day will be what you make it.  Love you.”

So off he went to the station.  Five minutes later he rang really distressed.  The government has changed the ticketing system and he couldn’t buy his normal ticket.  There were notices up everywhere explaining the new system but of course, if you are dyslexic and running late for work, that isn’t going to work out so well for you.

As a dyslexic man now, not a child, he is embarrassed to ask for help.   Everyday commuters know the system and he didn’t want to look stupid.  As someone who doesn’t travel by train more than once every few years, I was little help to him. 

Yet again, when I think he is travelling along ok in life, another speed bump in the form of dyslexia smacks him for six again.  He has been unable to get to work, he is upset and distressed at his lack of ability to be independent and also worried that his boss will probably yell at him.  Me, his mum and main support, is sitting here at 6am typing up a blog, over 8 hours away. 

I hate that a gorgeous kid like Loc has such a disability.  One which is so hidden and misunderstood.  He has so much to offer the world but it is always such a battle for him.  

Too many things I can't do...

Last week, Lochies' brother, Trent, graduated from the Police Academy.  He is loving his job and had enjoyed every minute of the training.
Lochie mentioned that he is now thinking that perhaps he might apply as well.  He doesn't like the environment of the Cabinet Making industry and is over putting up with being called an idiot and retard. 
My stomach twisted when I thought about all the reading and studying of Laws that I know Trent had just done.  How could Lochie cope with that considering his learning difficulties?

I showed him some of the books Trent had to read and also copies of his exams.
Lochie said, "But if I'm really fit and good at remembering, why can't I be a Police Officer too?"

Hard to answer because the reason is probably only that the spelling test to get in to the academy challenges most people, let alone someone who sees the words different everytime they look at them.

AFter a lot of talking, I have encouraged him to try but I don't think he will now.  He has no confidence now he looked at the paperwork on the application form alone. 

"Why are there so many things I can't do?  It's not fair." 

With the Paralympics on in the background we had discussions on how the only thing holding you back is usually you. 

"But," said Loc, "The fact is, that job requires lots of reading and writing and I probably won't be able to do it.  Just like these paralympians.  They can do amazing things, but sometimes not even the most basic things they really want to do". 

"Loc, sometimes we need to focus on the positive things we can do and not the things we can't do". 


these conversations go on continually with Loc and I guess they always will.  I've got a son with dreams of high achievement and abilities to match, but not always the abilities needed. 

On the plus side, he brought home an amazing piece of furniture he made by hand at TAFE.  When the last 12 months of his apprenticeship passes soon, I guess there will be more conversations.....

Please keep positive Loc!!   You are amazing...

A dyslexic maths class

Lochie had never really had any problems with math.  He sometimes said that he could see the answer, but, because he couldnt show the working out or process, he often failed regardless of having the correct answer.
His math teacher at high school was possibly oblivious to Lochie's problem with reading as he always managed ok in this class.  At least up til half way through year 8.
The regular maths teacher was absent and relieving teacher was a young guy in his early twenties.  The teacher was trying to be mates with the kids and goofing around a bit.
He handed out a worksheet with lots of wordy written maths problems.  The kind that say "if a train was travelling at 80kmp and left the station at 9pm blah blah". 
Lochie looked at the worksheet.  The words were all melting into each other. 
"Excuse me", he said.  "I can't do this kind of problem.  I can't read it".
"Come on Lochie, I can tell you are smart, just do it", replied the teacher.
"I can't.  I can't read the question", Lochie continued.
"Listen, do the maths sheet or go sit outside", said the teacher getting flustered.
"I would rather die than have to do this worksheet", said Lochie.
"Fine," said the exasperated teacher.  "Go lie on the road then, that should fix it".

Lochie got up and ran from the classroom.  Berwick High School was a large school and over 36 buses were due to arrive as well as about 400 cars to pick up students as the end of the day was nearing.

The teacher chased him out only to find him lying on the road out the front of the school in tears. 

He pulled Lochie off the road.  Lochie was hysterical.  He kept repeating that he wanted to die.  He wasn't as clever as other kids.  He couldnt do things and felt he was retarded. 

The school phoned and said that Lochie had been involved in a behavioural incident.  I sighed and left work early to go pick him up.

When the situation was explained to me I was furious.  The school made it seem that the teacher was severely traumatised by Lochie's actions. 

I took Lochie home and left him for a while to calm down. 
We had a chat that night.  Lochie explained to me that he often felt like dying.  He said that the last time he was in English and the teacher made him read out loud and the other kids laughed, he wanted to stand in front of a V-line (country) train and make it all end.  The only thing that stopped him was knowing he had football that night. 

At that point I decided that school was not the right place for Lochie. 

Many people thought I was crazy, but as a mother, to hear that a son was so depressed he wanted to die, well, you just take away the problem. 

I stand by my decision.  The option was to take Lochie to a community school.  As a youth worker, I knew that there were many kids in those schools with drug issues and the last place for a depressed kid was a community school with access to drugs. 

Leaving school at 14 began a new chapter for Lochie.

Future aims

Ok so I've been blogging about Lochie's dyslexia for  while and have no idea if anyone reads or not.  For me, it has a way of debriefing some of the trauma I have felt over the past 15 years of Lochie's life.  As a Mum of a dyslexic child, I have felt shame, embarressment, and helplessness at the fact that there was "something" wrong with my child.  I have had people acuse my child of being stupid when in fact, he is highly intelligent.  Lochie has shared with me his feelings of dispair and also about times he has felt he wanted to self harm.  He disclosed to me that he actually did got to the railway line and consider laying on the tracks and waiting for a train to end his suffering at school.

Blogging is ok, but as I said, no idea if anyone reads it.  What I want to do, and Lochie has agreed to work with me, is write a book for parents and children who are suffering from dyslexia.  The book will be both a support and success story, as well as offering some great strategies that we used to get Lochie through those school years.

Dyslexia is a common problem and if you haven't lived it, you dont understand just how hard it can be.  So many successful people are dyslexic.  Richard Branson is one incredible person who has achieved such great successes.  He also admits that perhaps it was the dyslexia that assisted his mind to think outside the box and create solutions that others should have been able to see but didn't.

If you have read my blog and are interested in hearing more, please post a quick comment or email me at tracy@nutsup.com.au and Ill keep you informed on the progress of the book.  If I hear nothing, I will still write but probaby wont publish.  I am so excited that Lochie is going to work with me.  He says even though books make him feel sick to his stomach, he will do it in the hope that other kids wont have to feel so alone as he felt.  If we can stop one child feeling like he would rather lay on railroad tracks than face another day in school, it is worth it.

For me, I'm hoping to offer support to the parents who are supporting dyslexic children.  It is so incredibly hard and the feeling of being a failure and letting your kids down is so intense.  I'm wanting to let you know that you aren't alone and there are things you can learn from Lochie's story that will ease you and your child's suffering at school.

For teachers, please learn more about what these young people go though.  They often do become behaviour issues but they are struggling with so much.   A dyslexic child sometimes has to process 400 times the information as other kids just to read the same word.  They are exhausted, disempowered and feel so anxious and depressed.  Please expand your mind and gain understanding.

Ok so I guess Ill see if I hear from anyone.

Regards,
Tracy and Lochie

And then it was time for high school

To say Lochie wasn't excited about high school was an understatement.  But, he did already have a lot of friends there and was happy to have the opportunity to be back in touch with some older people.  Socially Lochie was a little above people of his age and needed a bit more stimulating conversation. 
His two older brothers were there as well, so he was going into a fairly comfortable environment, except of course, for the classroom. 

The first problem we faced was that learning a second language was compulsory.  Not only did the written words in English seem like a second language to him, but now he was going to have to cope with learning Geman. 

His German teacher was a large German woman.  She was quite loud and very serious about her teaching.  She favoured the high achieving students.  Lochie was not one of them.

To say Lochie had personality would be an understatement.  He was funny, entertaining, popular, good looking and generally liked by everyone.  Everyone except his German teacher.  Even the other teachers who became frustrated at his behaviour still liked him so we could work on that.  But the German teacher...well...she didn't hide the fact that she detested him.

From Lochie's recollection, most days he had German, he ended up sitting on the steps outside the portable.  Not that it bothered him.  He actually planned it.  He knew how to get kicked out and some days it was as simple as smiling at the teacher.  He was quite proud of the fact that one day, while filing into the classroom with the other kids, he smiled at the teacher and she straightaway told him to not bother coming in.  Now you might be thinking it was a creepy smile...no...it was just a smile.  On that particular day, he remembers feeling really happy.  He had just had a chat with his new girlfriend, Bec, and was thinking about footy training that night. 

Being thown out of class before he even got there did little to quash his mood and he began dancing outside the window.  Yes, it was to distract people and get attention.  Naughty Lochie.  Most of the class laughed with him and the teacher came out ready to explode.  Not many things are more amusing than a large German woman with a bright red face waving her arms around in a frenzy.  Needless to say, I was called up to the school. 

Meeting with the welfare coordinator, year level coordinator and German teacher was going to be a good chance for me to explain more about Lochie and hopefully develop a little more understanding from the school.  I was also talking to Lochie about appropriate behaviour and better ways to deal with things too...I'm not one sided.  It is not ok for him to be distracting.

We started with the German teacher standing up at the table expressing her disgust in Lochie with her bright red face and spittle flying across the table.  I patiently waited for her to finish and asked if she had looked at his file.
" No", she replied, "I have many students."
"Are all you students as troublesome as Lochie?" I asked.
"None", she replied.
"So wouldn't it have made sense to have a look if there was a reason for his behaviour".

I explained about his dyslexia and his other occupational therapy issues.  I gave her copies of his reports and evaluations which she turned upside down and didn't even glance over.  I asked if she could understand how hard it would be for a child to learn a new language when he couldn't easily read English. 

"He isn't stupid!", she said.  "He is clever".
"Yes," I agreed, "but dyslexia makes communicating with writing extremely hard".

She had no intention of listening to anymore and demanded the welfare coordinator suspend him. 

The welfare coordinator had a little more idea of what was going on.  He suggested that Lochie do his assessment orally.  She said no. 

After much back and forthing, I simply said that he was to be taken out of German class. 

The German teacher was horrified!   "This cuts down his chances of having a career!  What if he wants to go to Germany when he is older?  So many things you are taking away from him." 

So, as the terrible mother I am, I persisted and now have cut down his ability to go to uni and become a German teacher.  Oh well.  I guess if he ever does decide to visit Germany, he will need an translator, or manage to communicate without speaking German. 

The teacher just didn't get it.  So caught up in her own world that her country was so extremely special that everyone should visit and that nobody could possibly have any successful career without having a language to help them get into uni course.  She didn't understand that I had a child suffering anxiety and that had to be the highest level of concern.  Until the anxiety was reduced, Lochie would never thrive. 

Many teachers just dont understand.  University isn't the aim of every person.  Nor do I believe that people with higher education are of higher value than anyone else.  Many people I hold in high regard have never been to university, but they make a valuable contribution to society and make the world a better place. 

High school continued to be a struggle for Lochie and over the next year, he spoke openly about suicide.  Something that chills any mother to the core. 

My next blog will tell the story of Lochies struggle with his inner demons.