09 Jun, 2023
I was the perfect mom. My children were always neat, they greeted people by name, they read books just for fun, they excelled at sport and in the classroom and other moms looked at me with envy thinking, “How did she get it so right?” And then I had children! At first it was pretty easy, Sarah met all her required milestones, was cute as a button and as good as gold. When her playgroup teacher mentioned she couldn’t sit still during the story ring, I didn’t give it much thought; the kid was three, wasn’t she supposed to be moving around? Issues sequencing pictures? “Ah well, she will get it eventually”. The inability to recognise the word “the” in Grade 0 when they started learning sight words had me in a fit writing ‘THE’ ‘THE’ ‘THE’ all over the house and up her arm in black khoki. Looking back, this was the beginning of our family homework story, one that does not have a happy ending. By Grade 2, the frustration of reading and learning our weekly spelling words was just too much for the two of us to bear. We went for the required assessments which identified what we already knew; Sarah could not read. Words like visual processing issues, working memory delays, attention deficit disorder all just meant, “Your kid has something wrong with her, you are not such a great parent!” This is a huge blow for someone who is not only a mom but also a teacher. How on earth do I teach other people’s children to read when I can’t even get it right with my own? While looking for which family genes to blame, my husband and I realised that in actual fact, both of us come from a long line of “slow learners”, Chris hates to read – even a sign board is too much effort and quite frankly neither of us is so hot at spelling. But we are both happy, valuable members of society with degrees and a successful business. With this insight came the realisation that this diagnosis was not something my child suffered from but rather part of who she is. We signed her up for the necessary therapies and extra lessons and continued to build her other talents and heal her self- esteem. I became more mindful to the fact that not all children learn in the same way and began my own journey of researching ways in which to help these children in the mainstream classroom. We still didn’t do the homework though. Obviously, the universe thought we were doing a smashing job and decided that one child with Dyslexia was not enough and so we were blessed with two! Thanks to an intuitive and wise teacher who was not afraid to break the news of “something off here”, Lily went for her bout of assessments. As she was already 9 at the time, we were given a straightforward Dyslexia diagnosis. The psychologist was surprised at the way Chris and I embraced the findings but after the long and uncertain path we had already travelled with Sarah, to have a definitive diagnosis was a real treat for us. Sarah was also formally diagnosed as having Dyslexia shortly after. Dyslexia comes with baggage. Different baggage for different kids. Sarah’s baggage is ADD, Lily’s is sensory modulation disorder. The one thing they have in common is that they cannot read with enough fluency to comprehend what they are reading, and they absolutely cannot spell or remember their times tables. The best bit of advice I have received was from another mom who has travelled a similar path. She said, “We spend 20% of our time working on the weaknesses and 80% of the time working on their strengths.” This mindset change has allowed my kids to relax, allowed Chris and I some of the highs that come with watching your children be good at something they enjoy and let them see that they are not Dyslexia. As a mom, my heart still breaks when I see them not achieving their potential in written assessments but as a teacher, I am completely driven to find ways to help my children and others. As a citizen of the world, I am so excited to see what they will become and what they will add to society. The realisation that my children are different and have been earmarked for something great completely thrills me and enables me to find the energy to fight for their accommodations, be the beating board during homework and study time and allows me to speak with conviction when I discuss their bright future with them. I know our Dyslexia journey is far from over, I know that the road will not be smooth, but I will continue to grow my children, witness their lives and find ways to explore every avenue available to ensure they grow up to be strong, confident women who do not let a diagnosis define their potential. - Debbie Hutt