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.

If you can't see it, it doesn't exist

Writing that last post, I was reminded of another interesting Parent Teacher interview I had the displeasure of attending.
Lochie had been having trouble in English (as usual) and I wasn't expecting an uplifting interview.  I was further convinced it wasn't going to be positive when the teacher glared at Lochie before we even got to sit down.
"Well Lochie, I guess you can start explaining to your mother why you don't even try in Engligh", she leaned over the desk, still glaring.
Lochie looked at me and shrugged.
I looked back at the teacher who had shifted her glare to me.
"What is it exactly that Lochie doesn't try", I asked her.
"He REFUSES to read out aloud."   She sat back in her chair and folded her arms and glared even harder at Lochie.
I looked at Lochie, who looked at me and shrugged again.
"Are you aware that Lochie is dyslexic so reading is a problem for him?" I asked.
"Being obedient is a problem for him and yes I know about his apparent dyslexia" she snorted rolling her eyes. "Last week I asked him to stand up and read out aloud and he just said no.  When I told him he had to he just walked out of the class".
Loc had his head down.  I asked him to wait in line for the next teacher while I finish this one up.  I didnt want this woman to further embarress him.
I turned to her.  I believe my glare was ten times more intense than hers.
"Do you understand that Dyslexia is a disability and asking a dyslexic child to read out aloud is the equivalent of asking a person in a wheelchair to walk?  Lochie struggles to read and he does try and suffers a great deal of anxiety and depression over his problem."
 "All I know is that when Lochie has to read he comes up with all kinds of excuses.  I know about dyslexia but it seems that every kid who wants to get out of work is suddenly dyslexic", she shook her head.
"Lochie has been having tests since he was in grade one.  His file is thick and he has spent a lot of time with the welfare team talking about strategies to deal with his dyslexia.  There as a teaching plan in place.  He should never have been asked to read out aloud."  It was no use, she wouldn't listen. 

To many people, dyslexia is made up, or just an excuse.  To  a dyslexic person, it is an incredible frustration to have a high intelligence and low ability to read  at the level of other people.  Lochie is highly social and very popular.  Getting made to stand in front of a class and be made to look a fool because he couldn't read was more than he could bare so he walked out.

I sincerely wish the people would understand and learn more about this issue.  Teachers especially need to be more supportive and understanding.  I do know that it would be very difficult to have a dyslexia child in the class, that would need extra attention, different work, different methods of assessment.  But, if you think about the impact that having your self esteem totally shattered and how long that takes to rebuild; the impact that being understood can have on a persons sense of value; wouldn't it be worth it?

 

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. 

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.

Fish Can't Climb Trees...

How true is that?  This quote came around on one of those facebook things that people post all the time. I read that and thought OH MY GOODNESS!  That perfectly describes dyslexic people.  Expecially Lochie. 

Dyslexic people can be highly intelligent, incredibly creative, ingenious, popular and very successful.  But, they all must endure years at schools, and sometimes throughout their entire lives, where they are made to feel stupid.

Lochie is very intelligent.  His memory for details, information from documentaries and recall of converstations etc is incredible.  He is an amazing social person with a fantastic personality.  Non of this comes out when he is faced with one of the most scary things on this planet to him.  A sheet of white paper with black writing.  Or as he says, black wavey moving lines with white rivers. 

I can't wait to get my book finished and make more people aware that ability to read is not a sign of how intelligent a person is.

Best Teacher EVER!

Throughout all of Lochies time at school, he had only one very special teacher who put in huge efforts to understand, help and support him.

In Grade 3, Lochie was pretty excited to have a male teacher.  Mr Daniels was a fairly young teacher.  Full of enthusiasm, energy and ready for a full on year.  He arranged meetings with all the parents at the begining of the year to have a little bit of insight into all his students.  The meeting with me was a little longer because he had read Lochies file and knew about his problems.

Mr Daniels spent a lot of time engaging with Lochie and building up his confidence by highlighting things he was good at. If the class was doing sports, he would often use Lochie to demonstrate a skill, or explain a rule.  In the classroom, he would never ask Lochie to read out loud or do the times tables competitions because he knew Lochie just couldn't do it and would feel bad.  Mr Daniels understood that Lochie was always willing to try, but didn't push him if Lochie wasn't comfortable to do so.

It is rare to find a teacher with this much insight into their students.  In my experience anyway.  Mr Daniels encouraged Lochie to try things and would stay back with him after class, to hear him try to read out aloud rather than making him do it in front of his class, only to be laughed at.

One of the main things Lochie says that frustrated him in school was that teachers always said that he wasn't trying.  How frustrating would that be?  Trying so hard that your brain hurts and then getting told that you weren't?  What does that do to a young persons self esteem?

It was grade three when Lochie was going through a lot of testing and he also got the coloured glasses.  Mr Daniels printed all Lochie's worksheets on coloured paper because Lochie often "forgot" to wear the glasses because classmates always asked him why they were blue.

There was little point with Lochie attempting to read off the board and Mr Daniels understood that.  Rather than sitting him in front of the board as a constant reminder of the things he couldn't understand, Lochie sat with his back to the board, facing Mr Daniels.  This helped Mr Daniels keep a close eye on when Lochie was getting frustrated and offer help straight away.

As I just re-read what I have already written, it comes across as if Lochie was a favourite.  I dont believe this was the case.  Every kid in that class blossomed that year and it was due to the efforts of a teacher with energy and a passion to bring out the best of everyone.

I have teachers as friends, and they say, "we have 25 students in class, there is no time to focus on one who is having problems?"
I disagree with that.  If teachers put in effort at the begining of the year to really engage and get to know students, it isn't a huge effort to keep track of each one individually.

Lochie and I would like to find Toby Daniels.  He was teaching at Beaconsfield Primary School but only for a few years.  He then went overseas to China to teach English.
If anyone can track him down please pass this blog on.  I really hope he gets to know how much difference the year with him made to Lochie.

Thank you!!

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.