A Letter From a Mom to a Daughter with dyslexia
I was given this letter by a friend who is a mom, who wanted not only her daughter to see it, but others parents, and their daughters. For all of us who have kids who are outside the norm, it is an encouragement to love them, care for them and hunt for the teachers who will do the same. Thank you!
There is a picture of you I keep at my desk, a beautiful bubbly blue eyed girl with golden curls. You are standing in the sun eyes closed head tilted toward the sky. It seems as though you are trying to absorb the sun and you look like pure joy. Every time my eyes gaze upon it, it fills my heart with joy. But that joy is fleeting because I know now what was to come. From the moment you were born, and they laid you on my chest I knew that you were going to be a force in this world. You have amazed me with some of the things you have done in your life. At the age of two, you hopped on a bike with no prior experience or even training wheels and rode off down our cul de sac with all the confidence in the world. By age four you were asking me things that I couldn’t answer, like how radio waves worked, how you even knew what a radio wave was at that age has always surprised me. At seven you were rollerblading and skateboarding with amazing balance, and when you got on skies at 17 for the very first time, you tackled the highest slope with the skill of someone who had been skiing their whole life.
When it was time for kindergarten you weren’t scared in fact, the excitement you had was contagious, and I knew just how amazing you were going be. After all, you were clearly very intelligent.
Kindergarten was full of fun and learning new things, but even then, I could tell something was off. The teacher told me you were just a little slow in learning new things. That wasn’t true I knew that in my gut, but I listened to them and took their word for it. First grade proved to be even more difficult for you, and you started to notice that you were different. At seven you asked me why you were stupid. My heart broke into a million pieces, and even though I assured you that you were smart I could see that you didn’t believe me. They told me to hold you back so that you could catch up to the other kids and fearing this would only make you feel dumber I decided to take you to a fancy private school that promised they could “fix” you. Thankfully you flourished there emotionally, but academically you only grew further behind. By the fifth grade you were having anxiety attacks and teachers started to complain about your behavior. You would often hide in the bathroom in favor of going to class. I fought with them, I tried to make them see what I could see in you, I wanted them to see just how intelligent you really were. Nothing I did seem to work, and I could see in your eyes the light beginning to become duller and duller with each passing year. Each time you would bring home a piece of paper that said, “Try harder” or “Did you even STUDY”? in big angry red letters or when teachers would say things to you like, “You should know the answer to that” when you tried asking them questions, and with every bad grade on your report card I could see your confidence evaporating. Those teachers who had the power to lift you up were slowly breaking you down. My heart ached for you. It was as if one day I had this bubbly girl excited about the world and all of its possibilities and the next I looked into your eyes and the light had gone out, you were covered with scars from torture you inflicted upon yourself, and I knew that your soul was full of scars too. I failed you and I am full of regret for not finding the answer in time for you to have not felt like a such a failure. School should have been a wonderful experience for you and instead it was torture.
Today we know the answer to your struggle, Dyslexia. We know that you weren’t just a little slower to develop, but that your brain just works differently. We know that it is because of dyslexia that you have amazing athletic abilities and can remember the words to practically every song you have ever heard. It is because your brain is wired differently that you have such a big imagination and a knack for conversing like an adult even from a very young age. It is not a disadvantage when someone receives the help they need, it is just a difference.
My Dearest Daughter, I want you to know that every time I sit across from one of my students, every time I see their pain, every time I see them struggling to fit in, it is your face I see. Every time a fellow teacher tells me that a child is just slow, or when I hear teachers say they just need to try harder or they are lazy, it is your face I see. It is a fight I choose to fight not only for them but also for you. The reason I get up in the morning is to be the voice for those who don’t have one and deep down it is your voice I am hoping the world hears. Your reach in the world if far greater than you will ever know. In the faces of the Wade’s, the Abigail’s, the Sydnie’s and the Ryan’s the Rachel’s and the Caden’s is your face. As your mother I will never stop trying to heal your soul. As a teacher I will never stop trying to protect theirs from being scarred.
Love Your Mother
one last thing… if this letter resonated with you… please hit like…and let others know as well…it took a lot for my friend and her daughter to make this journey, and dedicate her lives to those who are making it as well, the other daughters and sons, parents, and teachers. God Bless all on the journey!