With only a couple more weeks to write this column, I have a lot on my mind. There are so many topics that I wanted to talk about, but I simply no longer have the time to write them now that graduation is right around the corner. There are people who I wanted to recognize for their impact on my life and many others. There are fun things that are happening that I wanted to talk about. I thought about combining them all into one hodgepodge of a piece and calling it a day, but that wouldn’t do any of them the justice they deserve. So rather, I wanted to write my penultimate column detailing where my education truly began in a sense.
I remember the teachers splitting us up into different reading groups with books that had varying levels of difficulty. Granted, my teachers certainly did their best trying to teach me, but it isn’t easy to teach a kid that simply couldn’t read and write like everyone else. Typically, I was given the smaller and clearly easier to read books. This was probably what made me realize I was different at first. I even remember as a first grader fighting with my mom over reading a single chapter of the first magic treehouse book. I would scream and cry out of the pain I felt trying to process the letters on the page. I wanted to be like the kids reading the big books with no pictures in the worst way, but it was nearly impossible.
There is no way to know it just by looking at me, but I am dyslexic. Growing up I absolutely hated to read and write. I would easily mix up words when reading and spelling. I would add extra letters spelling words out where they simply didn’t belong because that’s just how I would hear them. I wouldn’t, and generally still can’t, rhyme and count syllables the same way that everyone else does because my brain doesn’t operate like that. I would write backwards and in the opposite direction. I would read significantly slower than the average person.
With all of this said, I don’t want anyone to take pity on me for what I went through and still battle on a daily basis. I may be a victim of circumstance, but I choose to get up and fight rather than allow what makes me different to stop me from being who I want to be. Today, I love to read and write. Although, I wouldn’t be able to say that if it weren’t for some extraordinary people in my life who were willing to make sacrifices in order for me to succeed.
For years my parents did what they could to get me the help I needed. I was taken for extensive testing so my parents could get a piece of paper to tell the school I needed more help than the average kid. Ironically, my doctors advised my parents that giving me an official diagnosis would make the school less likely to help me for some odd reason. To that end during one meeting my school principal and administrators accused my parents of wanting special treatment for no reason, even though they all knew something was wrong. They played some outlandish and unethical games, toying with my future. And I doubt I was the only one they did this to. While it hurts to think about how detestable their actions were I can only hope the policies have changed as well as the heart of that principal amongst the other administrators that went along with her.
Even with barriers thrown in every step of the way, my parents refused to give up on me. They wanted me to succeed. My mom would sit with me for hours trying to help me learn to read, write, and just be a normal kid. The patience and unconditional love she showed me helped to make me who I am. Elementary school me thought we were playing games, but they always had to do with improving my spelling and rhyming. I know this is a privilege most kids could never have and that I am truly blessed to have such great parents. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have even made it to the starting line in life.
I also owe a great deal of gratitude to my elementary school teachers and guidance counselor who gave me the tools to succeed. In part, thanks to them I can proudly say I graduated from a top university as an engineer (and also tell the ones who never thought I would amount to anything because of my dyslexia to never underestimate anyone just because they’re different). I also owe a thanks to Hank Zipzer, a fictional character with dyslexia based on Henry Winker (perhaps better known as the Fonz from Happy Days). Reading about a boy like me made a huge difference in my outlook growing up (thanks again for finding those books mom)!
I was lucky enough that the grade school eventually relented and was willing to give me more help. Although even with all that help, I never learned to love to read and write until much later on. My main issue with schools today is that they don’t allow much creative freedom in a literary sense. Everyone reads the same books and writes about the same topics. But in my junior year of high school, I was simply inspired with the help of my all time favorite English teacher Mrs. Johns, a wonderful human being who isn’t afraid to tell it like it is while cracking a few good jokes along the way. We were simply told to pick an author, read some of their books, and write a research paper. Because of this, I was given the creative freedom to explore science fiction books and write about something I cared about. Thanks to the works of Ray Bradbury I found joy from what I read on a regular basis. In a way, it was like being set free from something that held me back my whole life. It was the spark that now helps me to write every column, essay, and lab report that I’ve ever done as well as explore different novels, short stories, and essays.
And that brings me here to this very moment. I love what I do and I’m going to miss writing knowing that at least the editors have to read my work. To all the amazing students who make The Stute what it is, thank you for giving me this opportunity to explore my passions these past five years.
This is by no means an exhaustive list of the people who helped me along the way, but to all of those mentioned and unmentioned, thank you. Especially to my parents because words can never describe how grateful I am for the two of you.
Senioritis is an Opinion column written by a current Stevens student in their last year of study to discuss life experiences during their final year at Stevens, and other related subject matter.
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