A Mothers Pain

From the time Lochie was born, he and I had a special bond.  Lochie was attached to me for the first 12 months of his life.  He had severe colic and just couldnt be put down.   He used to twirl his hands through my hair....actually, he still does.  He never had a security blanket or dummy.  Just me. 

When I first realised he had a problem with reading, I literally did everything I could to help him.  I went from test to test and really got no help.  I will give you a bigger run down on the tests in a later blog. 

As a parent, I was told that if only I had made him spend time on the floor with mobiles hanging over him, or made him crawl, his nerves in his brain would have developed and he would not have reading problems. 

After being blamed for that, I was told that if I hadn't taken him to babyshows then he would have had less issues with self esteem and would have responded better when offered help. 

I was also told by a psychologist that if I hadn't pushed him into footy (which I didn't, he loved the sport and was/is still brilliant at it) he would have spent more time wanting to read. 

My heart breaks when I see him struggle and it always will.  At night, he used to run into my room several times to get me to remind him about things for the next day.  He used to tell me that he would lay in bed and watch the day replayed in his head feeling every emotion.  Happiness, sadness, anxiety etc.  After the day had played out, he would then think about the next day identifying any problem that may come up.  No wonder the kid never slept.  Again, something I was blamed by the teachers for. 

To every parent going through what I go through having a dyslexic child, I will dedicate my book.  Please pass on your stories to me and I will include them in the book. 

Lets work together to help people understand dyslexia and give support to the people who are sufferers. 

The gift of dyslexia

One gifts Lochie has is his amazing spacial ability. 
It's so handy when we are moving furniture, building shelves, buying outdoor settings etc. 
Today it came in really handy.  He was shopping at a newly opened store and there was a guess the lollies in the jar competition.  I looked and thought about 120.  Lochie said, "nah, there would be about 207".

I looked at the other guesses.  Nobody had guessed anything like that.  Silly me for doubting. 
He won the competition, and the huge jar of lollies, only missing the total by two. 

The gift of dyslexia.

lack of understanding in the workplace

So Lochies’ bad week continued. 

He had an evaluation at work.  As a hard working young man, he prides himself on his workmanship and puts efforts into keeping the workplace clean.  Seriously, this guy is the ideal apprentice.

His evaluation was good, but he got  marked down badly for literacy.  What does that mean for a cabinet maker?  He has made some spelling errors on worksheets.  They weren’t so bad that you couldn’t decipher what he meant but his boss said it wasn’t acceptable. 

 

Lochie said, “I think that’s a bit unfair because you know I’ve got dyslexia and reading is really hard.  I do try my best”.

“Not good enough”, said his Boss.  “Why don’t you go do a short course on how to read?”

 

Poor Lochie!!  How could anyone be so stupid to think that a short course could help.  It just shows again, the problem dyslexics have when dealing with people who have no idea

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...

Will my kids be dyslexic?

Lochie has a gorgeous girlfriend.  They have been together since they were 12 and 13.  At 18 and 19, they are now talking long term. 
Lochie's girlfriend, Rebecca, is currently at university studying speech pathology. They are the cutest little couple. 
Lochie came to me quite seriously and asked for a chat. 
"So Mum, Bec wants to have kids one day...", he said.
"Yes, thats pretty much a normal thing", I replied.
"What if my kid is retarded like me?" he asked.

As much as Lochie spends most of his days floating around, working, chatting, smiling, the impact of his dyslexia must still weigh heavily.
We spoke for a while about how dyslexic doesnt make him retarded, his brain just works differently. 

At the end of our discussion, he said "Mum, I understand what you are saying, but, I never want to have kids if they have to go through what I have to". 

I wish that dyslexia was better understood by society.  I wish that Lochie didnt have to be put through being called retarded, especially in the workplace. 

Working boy

Skipping a bit now, but Lochie came home from work with a story that I just had to share.  Loc is working as an apprentice cabinet maker.  He is meticulous and has amazing work ethic.  His natural ability to talk to people gives him an edge over othe people he is working with and customers adore him.
Loc was working with one of the tradesmen putting in a bathroom cabinet.  Lochie was doing the measurements and reading them out.
"Ok, its 1100 cm, oh no its not, sorry it's 1010", Lochie corrected himself.
"What are you? Dyslexic or something?", demanded the tradesman.
"Well yeah actually, I am", replied Lochie.
"Well don't  be proud of it", shouted the tradesman. 
He continued on often calling Lochie stupid and retarded due to his reading issues.  Lochie doesnt make errors with his reading, but he does take the time to double and triple check.
The continued insults caused Lochie to feel upset about going to work so he brought it up with the boss. 
"well, we didn't know you were retarded", was his only response.

Unfortunately there is limited understanding of dyslexia and there will always be stupid people.  Lochie has just developed resilience to it but it still hurts.

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.