Dyslexia before IDEA

Have You Ever Gone Word Blind?

or How Spell-check saved me!

In the mid-1970s I was enrolled in a “Modern American History” class at George Mason University in Northern Virginia. This class was from The Civil War ( oh that’s what it’s suppose to be called) to 1970s. As a Virginian raised in the 1960s all we knew of history was Virginia history from 1600s to 1860s — as if nothing ever happened after the Northern Aggression was over.

For the ubiquitous secondary-source research paper that you found in all college classes of the day, I retooled the assignment and went the original research route (see “Miss Education of an American Girl” for that back story — guess I am a slow learner! ).

I picked the “Great Depression” to research as my parents, their siblings and my grandmother had all lived through it. I’d heard their stories of hardships and triumphs my whole life. I wondered did the professional scholars miss anything, leave out anything?

I interviewed my relatives and compared their lived-history to that of the scholarly research on the depression. I received high marks for my paper’s content, but lost significant points for grammar/spelling. I was sad about that, but use to it, so I moved on. I learned a great deal, and that truly was all I cared about.

My history professor’s examination habit was to give us an on-demand essay first which he then graded while we took part two — the multiple choice/fill in the blank section. I was working on part 2- happy that I really knew this material. He called me up to his desk and asked me what number did I see. He pointed to the dates I had written in my essay on the Great Depression. Odd question I thought, “1932” I replied. “And this one?” he pointed to another date. Again I said “1932,” wondering what was wrong with him. He took his red pen and wrote above the number I had written, “And this number what is it?”

I was in a shock and started trembling. There in front of me at the end of his red ball point pen I saw that I had failed this test. Through the entire essay I wrote 1923 instead of 1932. My eyes teared up — I really cared about this class and this content. I had tried so hard. But the cold hard facts were there- I failed.

He said to me, “I know you really ‘know’ this material. Your research paper was incredible. This explains all the spelling errors. He underlines several other words with e before I with no “C” involved, missing double letters, ‘er’ instead of ‘ar’ “You have a thing called dyslexia- my son has it” He gave me full credit for the essay and didn’t take off points for the spelling or grammar. I was relieved, embarrassed and deeply confused.

I always received praise for content and lost out on As for poor spelling and crooked grammar. I wrote with a dictionary right by my side. When I discovered a Thesaurus I was over joyed! Finally, a tool for finding the exact word I wanted. For younger readers, this is way before personal computers and spell-check.

In 1976 there were no resources at George Mason University for 19 year olds with learning disabilities, at least none that I was ever made aware. I spent hours in the library trying to read about and research dyslexia. There wasn’t much information. And what there was didn’t exactly fit — I didn’t have “word blindness.”

Word-blindness was what it was called in 1878 when Dr. Adolph Kussmaul first noticed patients who had difficulty reading and mixed the order of there words. (ever order a chilled grease sandwich? I have) I could see words just fine — I just couldn’t decode any unfamiliar words. Along with an inability to differentiate er, ir, ar, or — stupid English language!

What I concluded after hours in the library was that having an official label of a special needs or disability would keep me from being hired. I learned that prejudice against people with disabilities is very real. I learned I preferred the concept of challenge over disabled.

With my history professor’s help, I made a plan to take only 4 courses maximum a semester, 3 was better. It turned out that another limiting factor related to dyslexia is that my reading speed is abysmal. My reading ability is about 40% lower than what an average college students needs to be successful. However my comprehension rates are 10 % higher than the world champion speed reader (4700 words per minute).

In trying to craft the sentence about my reading speed I wondered if there was a reading speed app — sure enough. I set the levels at max- and tried my best. I read 145 words per minute. To succeed in college the app says I would need to read 350–450 words per minute. Prejudice is alive and well!

It took me 8 years to finish my undergraduate work at college. Dyslexia never stifled my desire to get a degree. I figured-out tricks along the way that helped. Using a ruler to read, helped me track from line to line and increase my reading pace slowly by moving the ruler a little faster each reading session. I also carried a small notepad with a list of words I would always get wrong. However, the game changer was the introduction of spell-check in the mid 1980s.

In my first semester of graduate school, (yes you read that correctly-graduate school). I wrote a paper I was extremely proud of — the actual assignment was to do original research! I spent three hours spell-checking. But that was considerably faster then having to look up words in my trusty, now very beat up American Heritage Dictionary in combination with the beloved Rogers’ Thesaurus — because when you can’t spell a dictionary can’t help! I would use the thesaurus to find alternate words that meant the same thing and worm my way through until I found the correct way to spell the word I wanted to use. Precision in word choice is important to me.

The paper was handed back covered in red ink. I burst into tears when I read “The content is exceptional, Next time edit for spelling.” The original Spell-Checker on apple computers only caught 50% of my errors. Spell check could’t tell that a word was wrong if it was actually spelled correctly but not the correct word. In my Dissertation I severed children for 104 pages — yikes. Severed instead of Served… It looks the same to me. Perhaps I am “word blind” after all but I didn’t allow it to keep me from earning my PdH.

A little poem so you can “see” just how dyslexia and all it’s cousins is for me