Friday, 20 May 2011

An Exploration Of Bitterness / The Blog I Tried Not To Write

Dear Kate,

This post is not for you.
The barbed shards poking between each line are not pointed at your jugular.

  
21/05/2011

To The Collective Former Educators Of My Daughter,

RE: Super Kate, Student No.1

Your 'good old Christian charity' did not start at home.
In fact, whenever I mention your name, I am answered immediately with a sentence containing the word 'evil'. Do you think that unjust?  Well I challenge you to ponder a few points.

"You are expected to know that by now!  Students of your age do not confuse their /b/s and /d/s!"

Who exactly was this tirade beneficial for?  Did you let off some steam?  Did you feel better by making it clear that you are an inherently, easily successful person, and that you expect the same of others?

  • DO YOU NOT THINK, THAT SHE WOULD HAVE LIKED TO GET IT CORRECT?
  • DO YOU NOT THINK, THAT IF SHE WAS ABLE TO DO IT, SHE WOULD HAVE?
  • DO YOU THINK THAT THIS CANTANKEROUS ACCUSATION OF LAZINESS WAS IN ANY WAY HELPFUL OR CONSTRUCTIVE?


 Several weeks before this event, I gave my daughter a ring.  A small, conservative, silver cygnet ring.  We worked out between us that she could wear the Ring on her Right hand which she wRites with.  This helped her with directionality and therefore /b/ & /d/. YOU told her to take it off.

 I pleaded our case and was told that jewellery was not allowed in any circumstances.  This rule did not seem to extend to earrings, as they were worn by many (I guess because of the clear link between small pieces of metal stuck through earlobes and superior academic performance as well as Godliness).  At length you made a concession and we were told that  a skin coloured hairband could be placed upon the wrist.  The very next day, my daughter was informed that hairbands were to be worn in the hair and not upon the wrist.

So this year you are on a mission.  How is that treating you?  Someone I know regularly laments the fate of the poor 3rd world children under your tutelage, but then is happy that you are not inflicting your 'evilness' on the Australian children who are her friends.

I bet you feel good about your personal sacrifice, to help the minions.  I bet your colleagues and friends hold you in high esteem for your noble efforts.  I bet you get a warm fuzzy feeling when you see the new schoolhouse that your international adventure has procured.  That will look lovely on the resume too.  Make sure you get a happy snap of yourself and some cute black children stood out front.  God smiles on shit like that.

With all that gratuitous pleasure up for grabs, why would you want to help a silently melting child take her first incremental step toward becoming literate? Where are the accolades in that? You tried once but she clearly wasn't trying, because  it didn't work and YOU are an 'awesome' teacher.  

 Oh, and you teach in an 'awesome' school.  And 'the technology is just awesome!'.

I .FIND. YOUR. CONTINUOUS. LIP. SERVICE. ABOUT. YOUR. OWN. 'AWESOMENESS' . REPUGNANT.


 How awesome was it to watch the little girl, seated (inappropriately) at the back of the classroom, slowly turn to dust, along with her prospects and aspirations ????
???                                                               
                                                                           ??
                                                                                                                                                         ?
                             
**************************************************************************
Now that I have spewed forth that diatribe I have the breath to say:

I think you are generally good, kind people.
I don't think that you are bad teachers when it comes to basic mainstream education.
I don't wish for you to stop being teachers.
I do wish that you would understand that your general success as teachers and as a school does not make you superior and well informed in all areas of education.
My opinion as a parent is valid.
Education is lifelong, for you too.
You are not informed on appropriate teaching methods for gifted children with learning disabilities.
The ramifications of your ignorance can be devastating and life long.
Ignorance is not an excuse.
I do not excuse you.

Kind regards,
Super Kate's mum

Saturday, 14 May 2011

Dyslexia, You, Me, The World.

Dear Kate,

Today I feel scared to be your parent, and hence another post. 

In the meanwhile, since my last post, you have been your usual exceptional self, accomplishing many amazing things and showing the capabilities of your brilliant mind. Since we began homeschooling, your happiness and confidence have grown to the point that you are sometimes impertinent and I secretly love it.

But......

today I am scared.  I am scared of damaging you, psychologically, emotionally and academically.  I know that with your giftedness comes great sensitivity.  I know that your giftedness combined with your disability, places you are up against some pretty terrifying statistics.  Statistics that involve rejecting education & society, leading to conduct disorders and prison.

I am scared that my knowledge and frustration separates me from the people close to me.

I am scared that other people's ignorance about twice execptionality makes them discount me and my opinions.



The reason that I feel this way, here and now:

Yesterday I went to a conference.  It was about the many children who are just like you.  I learnt something new, just as I hoped I would.  Something that perhaps is of benefit to you.  I drove home bursting with it. I tried telling several people about it (and you are so perceptive and you know me so well, that I probably don't need to tell you, that it was not at the right time and not in the right way).

I didn't get the response I had hoped for and that was difficult after being with a room full of people all day who spoke my language, just as fervently as I did.  And that was saddening and frightening because I only have one chance to be your parent and I want to do it well and I want to be supported in doing it.

At times like these, the questions arise and the slow internal combustion begins: the quickening beat of the heart, the dizziness, the blurring vision. I am scared. And the words seem to flow out of me in these moments when I would otherwise burst.




But I am not always scared.

In fact, I mostly feel very confident and I am always delighted to be your parent. This post is nothing if not heartfelt, but you should know that my heart does not always feel heavy. 

When I look at you, you are so complete and wonderful and will no doubt bestow upon the world something great. If the world could just advance us a little something on the way.....

Or the government, but then that is a whole new post.

Love Mum
  xox

Friday, 18 March 2011

More About Music

Dear Kate,
It went like this:

Round 1
Me: tone: Overly casual. 
       words: What is it like when you listen to music?

You:  expression:  None.
          word, in a nutshellUgly.

Me:  emotions:  Shock, incredulity, return to calm.
        thoughts:  Interesting, a visual descriptor!
        words:  None.

Round 2
Me:  words: What does music look like?
        thought: Could you interpret music as colours or emotions?
You:  facial expression:  What's your game, lady?
         words:  Like a radio.

Me:  thought: Hmmm, not so colourful.


Round 3
Me:  words:  What does music feel like?
You:  another nutshell:  Nothing.

Me:  echoes in my head:  "Nothing, nothing, nothing, ugly, nothing."
        diversionary thought:  What lovey legs you have! Lovely, lovely, legs, lovely.


Round 4
Me:  words:  Does any music sound better than other music?

You:  words:  The Beetles and Pink.

Me:  word, of the singular variety: oh
        thoughts....gradual: Simple melody and rhythm + overflowing with angst and out to kick the world's  arse. That is something and not nothing.
        
That was how it went.

Love Mum

Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Einstein's Fish

Dear Kate,
You are Einstein's fish.  Does that sound a bit tacky, twee or maybe like a bad song lyric?  It is simply what I thought when I saw this quote by Einstein:

"Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it is stupid"

This is the reminder I needed, to attend to your gift, not just your disability.

I will start now!

*At 6, you had the working memory of an 11 year old.
*You are exceptional at mental arithmetic.
*You have determination and the power to endure and succeed.
*You are the kindest person I know.

You can do ANYTHING you want to do!  The educational psychologist told you that after you practically inhaled the WISC-IV and spat out a phenomenal result.  If only that one statement was powerful enough to undo the layers of anxiety and self-doubt that school has built upon you.

On the last day of school in 2010, I picked you up and felt the thick sludgy layers of stress slide off us both.  The  tranquility of the school holidays seemed surreal.  I could see you slowly recharging.  But then it was New Years Eve and a fresh onslaught of frustration and humiliation was visible to us both.

I sweated for three weeks and I know that you did too. 
I wished for the millionth time that I didn't have to haul you through another torturous term.
I yearned for your preschool years.
I wished I didn't have to watch you suffer. 
I wished I could feel calm and happy.
I wished I had space in my head for something other than you.

Then miraculously, the neurons that had neglected to fire over the last three years, did, and I connected the fact that homeschooling exists, with the knowledge that I was absolutely capable of doing it!

So, if you feel that you are a fish, I can't wait to watch you swim. And you don't need to climb any trees. Unless of course you want to.  And then I will stick a tree in your ocean or build a dam around your tree.  Whatever it takes.

Love Mum



Sunday, 13 March 2011

'I Don't Like Music'

Dear Kate,

I feel lighter already, since I began pulling these swirling thoughts and emotions out of my mind and off my chest and putting them to rest on 'paper'.


 How do you get things off your chest?

And there are a few more things I would like to know:

What is it like to be you? 
How does your world look?
And more particularly, how does it sound?

I am still reeling from your stark announcement last week:


'I don't like music.'

The audiologist told me that you can't hear changes in pitch.  You don't know if the notes are going up or down!!!

What does a song sound like?
(And could Richard Stauss ever sweep you out of your chair, carry you through many modulations and then leave you resting 1cm above the ground?)

What does it sound like when we talk?
(What do prosody and intonation mean for you and if I am facetious will you understand me?  How do you feel about homonyms and are you content with this content? What do you 'read' from the context?)

Music is such a fundamental part of my existence. There is always music in my head.  When I am busy talking, writing, working or paddling it is playing continuously in the background, like a force that is driving me forward. When I am happy I bounce with it and when I am miserable I wallow in it and everything in between.

What fills you up with joy?

I remember the long car trip we took when you were 6 and you giggled the whole way because you were watching funny cat videos in your head.  And when someone tried to teach you meditation, you cried because they were trying to take the stories out of your head.  Is that what keeps your cogs turning? Videos and stories in your head?

I have read the books by Sally Shaywitz, Norman Doidge, Linda Silverman, Ron Davis, Liz Dunoon and Robert Melillo amongst others. Academically, I understand that you are a right-hemisphere, gestalt, visual-spatial thinker and learner. 

But I think in words.
And I feel with music.

 How do you work?

Love Mum

PS Do you care that I can't watch videos in my head and are you disappointed in my disappointment?

PPS I love you.

Friday, 11 March 2011

The Rollercoaster

Dear Kate,

Yesterday, I got it wrong.  You were struggling with an activity and I told you to try again.  You said it was too hard and I told you to keep trying.  You didn't yell or scream or rebel. You sat still, staring directly at the wall ahead and tears slid silently down your cheeks.  I felt uncomfortably large and contemptibly mean.  You waited until I told you that when you felt sad you should cry, and then you collapsed into my lap and shook and howled. 


Then it was my turn to cry silently while I remembered that I was homeschooling you to avoid this very situation.  I was homeschooling you because I was the one who could teach you slowly and repetitively and patiently .  I was the one who would understand that you weren't  being lazy, but some days, certain neurological pathways just wouldn't work as well as they did on others.


When you calmed down, you told me that it was just like school, when you couldn't spell a word and the teacher told you to try again and again and then again....you just wanted someone to tell you how to do it, so you would know how.  You just wanted a kind word when you were trying hard, success or failure.

I apologised and told you I would be more patient and that you were allowed to remind me of that.  I fed you something that I shouldn't have fed you (bribery/future incentive/guilt gift) and we did an activity you enjoyed.  Suddenly you were smiling at me, and I felt at little less overly-inflated and  prickly and red.


I want to motivate you, not bully you.  I want you to approach new tasks with a twinkle of curiosity in your eye, the way you did before you went to school, when you had only experienced praise and admiration for your efforts, before school taught you that you could fail.


The next time we go to a parent-teacher interview (whenever that may be) and the teacher asks you what your goals are, I want to hear you say what YOU want.  Last time, you sat up straight as a bean pole and smiled a tightly-stretched smile and said with trepidation and rising intonation, "To be a good girl???".  You wanted so much to please your teacher but just didn't know how. For now, I am your teacher and I recognise that I must give you the space and kindness to take your mind away from pleasing others, so you can rekindle your love of learning.


This train of thought brings to mind a quote about learning disorders, that went something along the lines of,  "Just remember, that when your child entered school, she only ever intended on being successful and of making you proud.".


I know that you have only ever tried to make me proud and I am proud of you every day.

If you will keep trying, so will I. Or maybe, if I keep trying, so will you???

Love Mum

Wednesday, 9 March 2011

Dyslexia Diary

Dear Kate,

Today I know for sure that choosing to home school you is one of the best decisions I have made.  You work so diligently and you are so steadfast. How could you fail?  And yet, you did at school.  If not from the school's perspective, you failed your own high standards.  Your literacy levels did not live up to your superior cognition and hence the battle lines were drawn: giftedness vs disability.


Knowing that you are gifted with dyslexia has helped you enormously.  You were bright enough to know that something was wrong from the day you stepped into the classroom and into a sea of nonsensical symbols that were supposed to shed light on your non-literate world.  Instead, they brought confusion, anxiety and accusations of laziness and stupidity.  Now you know that you are amazing and that there is a reason that reading will take longer for you to learn than it takes others. 

But you will learn.


I don't know how either of us endured the year and a half that you were dragged from my leg crying each morning or the following year and a half when you were sick and morose every day, except for the school holidays, when you would poke your head up for some sunlight and a brief spell of happiness.


I am so sorry that I put you through it, and I regret that I did not trust my own instincts and ignore the people who said that you were just lazy, a slow learner or manipulating me. And I am angry at the school system that would rather just sweep the problem under the rug, than face a reality that involves teaching more than a one-size fits all model.


Beginning homeschooling has been so overwhelmingly positive; a lovely contrast to the last three years of schooling.  Of course we have our hard days, but you always rebound with a smile and I love that about you.  You have always been so emotionally mature and you have empathy in spades; your greatest gift.  We have an amazing adventure ahead of us this year and I am priviledged to share it with you.  I can't begin to describe how proud I am to be the mother of someone as wonderful as you.
Love Mum