"Look, mommy! It's one and then three."

"What? Just put your letters in order, baby cakes."

"But it's one, three, one, three. Then one, five, one, five, one, five! It's a pattern."

"What are you talking about? We need to put your letters in alphabetical order so that we can start your spelling lesson."

"But they are in order."

"So they are! Wow. I never noticed that. When the vowels are a different color, there's a pattern to the letters! How come I never noticed that?"

"I don't know. But this will help me remember them!"

Dyslexics are picture-thinkers! As we teach them, we can use this to our advantage. . . . If we can see the patterns. :-)

A month or so ago, we were eating as a family in the cafeteria at the university where my husband teaches, and we saw Dr. Marshall, our neighbor. He was looking smart, still dressed in his suit from church, and we asked him to join us at our table. He is somewhat of a legend in the making at our university, with a faculty award already named after him.

It was great to see him. Since he also lives in university housing, like we do, he lives on our street. Right across the street, in fact. Since the day he moved in, he's been my favorite neighbor. Friendly and always up to something interesting. He lives alone, visiting his grown children often, and always has a sweet smile and an interesting fact to share with my children. He is a teacher, through and through.

One day, he had invited the kids over to watch him work on an old roadster that he was building from scratch. I was pretty surprised to find that a business economist academic was also so amazingly skilled at metalworking and building. He was pretty much a white-blue-everything–collar man.

from left: Dr. Marshall, my dh, Charlie, and Claire Ellen

He is always teaching us every time we talk, whether describing the declining health of the tree in our front yard or explaining to the children why seatbelt laws were invented and the sociological difference they have made (while giving them a spin in his Model-A Ford).

During lunch, Charlie mentioned that he was heading into the fifth grade. Dr. Marshall said, "Well, if you need any advice about the fifth grade, you can ask me. I did it twice!" We all laughed. Surely Dr. Marshall was kidding. "No, really," he insisted. "I repeated fifth grade." I gave him an incredulous look. Why on earth would that be? "You see," he explained to us cheerfully, "I couldn't read very well. I have something called dyslexia." He looked at my children, ready as always to teach them something fascinating. But was he surprised to hear Claire Ellen pipe up, "Me too!" Then Charlie nodded, "We're both dyslexic!"

Suddenly, my dh and I were outsiders. The three dyslexics were the insiders, and they all connected on a special, delightful level as they chatted about the challenges and benefits of their learning style. It was a great thing to watch. My children are forming their identities still. They are discovering who they are, who God created them to be. And sitting before them was another person "like" them, a person they could look up to and be inspired by.

Later, Dr. Marshall came over with some information about dyslexia camp (who knew that existed?), and he shared with us a bit of his "dyslexia story," which he had written down for another purpose earlier. An excerpt from his story gives a perfect example of the wonders as well as the frustrations of this amazing learning style. This is from his college years:

I was a math major and math was easy for me. Math had always been easy for me; it was back in military school that I discovered I had a gift for teaching math. I had to take plane geometry from my uncle and I wanted to make sure that I didn't put him in the uncomfortable position of flunking his nephew, and being good at math I wanted to make sure everybody knew I wasn't receiving any preferential treatment. 

I vowed to study plane geometry religiously to meet the obligation I had set for myself. It turned out that wasn't necessary; plane geometry was the best course I ever took in all my years of education. It all made perfect sense, I understood everything, I would read the book but it wasn't necessary because I could do every problem in the book with an ease I had never experienced before. 

Many of my classmates struggled with plane geometry and I would offer them help. I'd never before been able to help anybody with an academic subject, word quickly spread so any of my classmates who were having trouble came to me for help, it was then that I decided I wanted to be a teacher. 

I had a perfect average in plane geometry until I took the final. I was certain I made 100 on the final but the posted grade was 93. I knocked on the class room door, my uncle said “enter,” and I stood at attention before him and told him I was certain I had made 100 on the final. He told me I was wrong and handed me the final exam, I looked at the problem that I lost all seven points on and explained that it was worked correctly, my uncle said “no” I had done a proof for an inscribed quadrilateral, but the question required a proof for a circumscribed quadrilateral. 

My darn dyslexia had kept me from finishing the semester with a perfect average, but I had accomplished my goal and found what would be my life's work.

Because Nothing is Broken

"OK," I told her while handing her a new notebook with a cute, bedazzled Minnie Mouse on the cover. "Today you are going to start writing. And you are going to write every day for the entire summer. Just a few sentences. No worries about spelling at all. Just write something nonfiction. About your life. How you are feeling, what's going on. Once you have filled half a sheet of paper, you can draw anything at all. You can draw all you want."

It took her a long time. She fought it. I knew she could do it, but she sure didn't want to. She kept asking me how to spell everything. This was taking forever. I explained to her about freewriting as a stage of the writing process that comes even before outlining and drafting. It's not a time to edit. It's a time for stream-of-consciousness dumping of thoughts. I wanted her to practice putting her thoughts on paper, not writing perfect sentences. This wasn't a grammar lesson.

But she seemed stuck.

Finally she said, "But it's going to be all wrong." "No it's not. It's going to be great for a dyslexic." "But I don't want to be great for a dyslexic. I want to be great for real." I explained to her that all this work we were doing is because she just plain can't write down words as well as most people, that this is life, that it's not really a disability but it is a problem that we need to solve because we live in a society where writing is the prized form of communication and that if she had lived in ancient Greece she would be considered super brilliant for her oratory and logic skills and that da Vinci was dyslexic and people laughed at Einstein, etc., etc.

"When I work hard to change your brain a little bit, I'm not trying to FIX your brain, you know. Because nothing is broken. You were dyslexic already when you were in my tummy. You don't have a disease, remember. You just have a problem that is this: dyslexics don't get along so well in modern society because their strengths don't lend themselves to the kinds of learning that are most common. So I'm helping you to avoid frustration later in life." I had told her all this before, but it seemed to be sinking in. We got out the "Gift of Dyslexia" book again, and I read to her about how creative dyslexics are, and how good they are at solving problems.

Then I tried the "perspective" tactic. SOME people have REAL problems. Some people can't read because of brain injury, not learning difference. Some people can't see! Some people can't walk. THOSE are real challenges, I told her. This? This is just an inconvenience.

It seemed to work. She wrote some beautiful sentences about how now that the tree in our front yard is chopped down, she notices just how many more clouds there are in the sky than she could see before. I think she spelled one word right. Good job, I told her. You did it! You got down some great thoughts.

"You know, mom, I've decided I don't want you to praise me any more. Not unless I do something really worth praising," she said. "I want to earn it."

That's my girl.

Picture Thinkers

A linear thinker sees four useful bookmarks. A dyslexic sees a pinwheel.

My kids are picture thinkers. Ronald Davis puts it this way:

The primary thought process of the dyslexic is a nonverbal picture thinking mode. . . . In a second, a verbal thinker could have between two and five thoughts (individual words conceptualized) while a picture thinker would have thirty-two (individual pictures conceptualized). Mathematically, this works out to between six and ten times as many thoughts. . . . A picture thinker could think a single picture of a concept that might require hundreds or thousands of words to describe. . . . Picture thinking is estimated to be, overall, 400 to 2,000 times faster than verbal thinking.

—The Gift of Dyslexia, 1994, p. 98 

So this is why I often say that my children, though I know and have mastered much more than they, are smarter than I. But really I believe that we have different smarts that the other must learn to appreciate.

This is why my children seem impulsive, though they both have been cleared of any attention-deficit or impulsivity disorder. This is why they interrupt me (hmph!), though I've trained them till I'm blue in the face to listen to others first and to not walk into a room talking, as if everyone should stop and jump right into their thoughts.

It's because they've got a picture in their heads. It's a fully formed picture, and the words they are using to describe it are simply a pain in the neck to form, so they want to get them out now. And when I am trying to say words to them, they are already forming a picture, viewing their image from a different angle, flipping it over, and analyzing it. All before I finish my paragraph.

So what is Charlie's viking potato doing in this picture? Isn't it obvious? Yeah, not to me, either.

The problem is, they miss a lot because they don't have the patience for words. They assume a lot, and they miss the details. Their model is already up and running, but they left out a screw here and a bolt there. They would rather the imaginary model in their brains fail than to suffer the agony of listening to one more sentence.

Except every once in a while, I know I've got their attention. They hear a new thing, get a new picture from the words coming from my mouth. They listen. Then they ask for more.

"But how does it do that?" . . .  "And then what happened?" . . .  "What if you did it this way, Mom?"

But in a minute or two, they have formed their new pictures, and they have moved on to their own worlds in which to process my words. And I am offended that they don't want to hear the end of my story, or my theory, or my idea.

But then in the end, the delight of their perspective beats out my irritation, and I find myself saying, rather than "But I wasn't finished," a bemused "Well, I never thought of it that way."

Charlie is Interviewed by Mom

Tell me about dyslexia. What is dyslexia, in your understanding?

It’s a small problem that we have with reading and writing and spelling and stuff. But it’s also, once you can get over that—I’ve worked really hard, and I’m actually reading Harry Potter now. . . . once you can get over the reading and writing disability part, it’s just this . . . you just basically just say to your friends, “Hey guys, I’ve got a disability that makes me really awesome!”

I just notice so many things I can do that my friends can’t. Like I can control my dreams better. I can think of stories way better. I can write my stuff and I can actually read books, sort of.

That’s interesting that you said that. Because your sister also said the word “disability” and the word “awesome” when I asked her. So have ya’ll talked about that? Those concepts?

Yeah, sort of.

. . . .

Another problem I have is it’s hard for me to sort out my thoughts. But I thought of this great way. It’s like, you know, one of those old cassette recorders where the thing spins around and you pick what you want? [He means a jukebox.] That’s what I have in my head. I have like, little pictures like, I would think of a squirrel. And I would have a squirrel on the front of that picture. And I can remember all the squirrels. Like the things I’ve seen squirrels do and stuff.

. . . .  

And I have tons of them. I have like, pictures I want, and I fish them out of my head. . . . and if I focus hard enough, I can stare at a blank sheet of paper and sketch something on it sort of [with his imagination]. And then just trace it [with a pencil]. But that’s just one of the many amazing things that this disability will let you do.

OK, so do you think that there’s things you can do because you are dyslexic that you couldn’t do if you had a different learning style?

Yeah, probably. I wouldn’t be able to sort out my thoughts so well. Like my mom [wry smile], it’s hard for her to think ahead, or to sort out two problems [at the same time].1

. . . .

You can remember stuff. Like, you can go to the mall, you can find the Lego store. And next time you go to the mall, you can go straight to it. Because your brain is extremely amazing.2 And you can just go, you can remember exactly where something is, because you put it in a folder. It’s easier if you sort it out in folders, because you can open them and give them labels and stuff.

OK, so tell me, where did you get this image of using “folders”?

Umm, I was stressed out. I fell asleep, and I woke up and sketched it. And then I had it.

OK, so what are the folders like?

It’s like a big tube, with tons of floating folders around it, and I flip through them. I imagine my hands flipping through them. And when I find what I want to look at, I open it. And I just lie back, and my imagination will roll pictures and stuff and put it together for me. And I fall asleep.

OK. So, you do this a lot when you’re about to go to sleep?

Uh huh. But if I want to, like if I see a picture of, like some tissue boxes and stuff? Like, I saw one [at the grocery store] that was like, “germy.” It had germs on it. So I sketched that in my head and put it in a folder, and when I got home I was able to sketch the germs again.

OK, so you don’t have to be about to go to sleep.

No, it’s just, I use it to remember stuff. So, and then I can, also when I’m about to go to sleep, I open those folders. I put stuff in them and close them in the day, and at night I open them and go through them.

And I also imagine like, if I don’t want to think about something, I imagine putting whatever I don’t want to think about in chains and putting it away, putting it in jail. And I also remember putting it in a notebook, and tearing that page out and throwing it away. And I have a clean new page to open another folder on and look at it.

Yes, that seems quite unique to me. Because I don’t think that I visualize things at all. . . . OK, so you would say that’s a benefit of dyslexia?

Mm hmm.

What would you say are some of the challenges?

Um . . . reading and writing. . . . If you think, “Well, I have a disability,” well, you’re going to think that all the time. That’s what it is. It’s going to be that to you. . . .

Like when I was in first grade, we had these little readers. And I remember thinking, like, “My friend is on the hundred and twentieth one,3 and I’m on the third one.” And it was just, so funny4 to think about that now. Since I can read really well, and write pretty well. . . .

. . . .

It’s actually fun once you get over it, because if you can master the writing part, and the reading part, you can read liturgy, and you can stick it in a folder. Then you can take those images and stuff and put them down in amazing stories.

What do you mean, “read liturgy”?

Like, read books?

OK. You mean like, “read literature”?

Yeah, read literature.

OK. Got it.

So when you read books, you’re automatically in a story, away somewhere. So if you can find that folder, away from the book, you can play that liturgy back in your head. And it’s just fun to do that.5

. . . .

OK, now your sister said that she has not ever felt embarrassment from being dyslexic. And I know that you might have had a harder time because we didn’t know you were dyslexic at first. So you might have suffered a little more?

Yeah, it was, I couldn’t get, I would get literally 10 out of 20 on my [spelling] test and all my friends were getting 20 out of 20. . . I nearly failed most of them. Yeah, it was kind of hard. . . . You need a lot of encouragement. . . . And I think I’ve only gotten 20 out of 20 like five times in my whole life.

Right. And you were working very hard.

I was working very hard. Probably harder than anybody else.

. . . .

But, what I really like doing is telling my friends, “I have dyslexia.” And they are just shocked. And they say, “What’s that?” And I tell them, “It’s the awesome disability" and keep them guessing.

Do you think that maybe you like being different?

Yeah, I’ve always liked being different. Like when I get black eyes [which he's done] or when I break my arm [which he’s done three times], it’s really fun to be different.

Right. To sort of stand out?

Mmm hmm.

So what’s your favorite word?

Probably supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Because I’ve never spelled it.

[laughing] So you haven’t conquered that word yet?

No, I’ve never conquered it.

What’s been your favorite book, so far?

Umm… probably, um… I like the Wicket series, because they’re easy to read, it’s a ton of action and stories and character. And in each of the books so far, there’s been one-half paragraph and then something happens. They’re just interesting and they’re easy to read, but they’re good stories.

. . . .

Ummm.. when I’m writing down stuff, and I know that I’m missing just about every single word that I write, I hate it when someone comes along and says, “That’s wrong. That’s wrong. That’s wrong. You need a period there, you need…” I’m like, “I know I need that stuff. I just don’t, I don’t, I can’t do it right now." I just have to get it down.

So if there was one thing about dyslexia that you said you hated, it would be…

That people, they will always be correcting you on your spelling and stuff. Basically, what I do is I say, “OK, well you edit it, then.” And then they walk off.

[This makes me laugh.]

They don’t want to edit it, so. Because it’s so bad. . .

So how are you solving that problem?

Well, I keep on writing. And I’ve got an editor mom.

So that works out for you!

She enters it into the computer, and she edits it for me.

Mm hmm! Last question before we go eat lunch: What do you see yourself doing once you’re an adult? Like as far as, how would you fill your days?

Writing books. Completely. I just, I can take stories and I can think of them in my head. So well. But I can’t get them down on paper. Yet.

1. My linear thinking makes me quite a good living, thank you very much.

2. It's called spatial learning, show off.

3. A bit of an exaggeration, but it sure seemed that way when he couldn't get past the second reader and his friends were on 8 and 9.

4. I noted that his facial expression didn’t communicate "funny," however.

5. It's fun for us to watch you mix up similar words!

Claire Ellen is Interviewed by Mom

Tell me about dyslexia. What is dyslexia, in your understanding?

“It’s an awesome disability!”

First, tell me about the “awesome” part.

Well, it’s awesome because you can imaginate things much more than you can do other things. So about the awesome part of it, you are very good at creative stuff. Me and my brother are really good at Legos, and I suggest when you’re schooling you move your hands with something because it will help you remember and help you do better.

If you just work hard enough on your reading, it will go pretty well. I still love reading even though I’m dyslexic. It’s very fun.

But even just a little bit of dyslexia can make you very creative.

OK. Tell me now about the “disability” part.

Well, it’s not really a disability, once you know how to read real well. Me and my brother are almost on that stage. But when we see new words, we still have to sound them out and take longer. But the only really weird thing about dyslexia is, you know sight words like “and”?

Yeah.

Well, our dyslexia doesn’t just make it hard to read; sight words like “and” or “is” or “are” are hard for us to remember.* But big words like “answered” is easy, for me, to remember. Most people, when they learn sight words, they start with the small ones and easy get those down, but when they get to the big words, it takes them a long time.

But dyslexia has only one other problem. When you guess too much and you really don’t read very well. Even if you do read a few correct words, [it’s] your guess [that really] makes those words sound right.

All kinds of books, like Frindle, to be exact, are good books but they’re really very hard for dyslexics. They have new words that they make up, like “frindle.” So when the books introduce the new word, you try to learn that as sight words, and when you take the time to learn that as sight words, you find that when you start reading again that you wasted time making that a sight word, for it was only in one book.

[note: I read Frindle aloud to them, and she learned the word from seeing the cover as I read.]

You seem to really be happy about the creativity part of dyslexia. Tell me more about that.

Well, the creativity part is a part where you can make your brain do things that most people cannot. You can design things in your head without having to write them out on paper. So like things like well, things like folders and inventions that you make are one-of-a-kind things.

And moms, you know that if your kids are super creative and make things like art that you don’t think you would ever see, it’s probably a good sign that they have dyslexia—and if they struggle with sight words.

Now back to the folders: Well the folders usually are different colors in your head. You make a story, put it in one of the folders, and while it is still lingering in your head, you take a folder out and you can remember all the story. It works really well for me and my brother, especially if we want to have dreams. So what we do is we take or we make a new folder and we spin it around and just keep remembering it, have it open until we fall asleep. Then your brain should play that folder and you should have that dream. I’ve had that happen to me before.

[note: I’m not sure if this image came from the folders we use for homeschooling or from the interface on our Macbooks, but they both talk about putting certain ideas in “folders.”]

But my brother always says, when you are dreaming, all you need to do to make your characters stop doing weird thing is to pretend like you have two hands in your head. And you imagine them [the character] jumping and they’re jumping around in circles and twisting, not really jumping. [So the character is twisting, but you want him to be jumping.] You need to take your two hands and solemnly place them on the character and make the movements with your hands and while you’re holding him, make him jumping. [motions with hands]

So when your hands go out of the picture, you see him jumping, because you’ve fixed your mind on him not just wiggling and jiggling around.

So, dyslexics have another thing: they can make very cool inventions without even knowing what they’re doing. They can take sticks and paper, and other things that other kids would not even think to have fun with and they can make games and fun and other things that anybody can imagine.

[note: Many learning styles can do the same thing, I suppose, but I can’t fault her for her confidence here.]

I have to admit that dyslexia really isn’t a disability. Unless if you’re talking about the disability of being too awesome.

Now, I know that sometimes your dyslexia has caused you some frustration and aggravation. Tell me about one of those times.

Well, the only time when I get frustrated with dyslexia is when its hard for me to read the really good books that my brother can already read. But to introduce my name, which you probably have been wondering this whole time. My name is Claire Ellen. And my brother is Charlie.

Have you ever felt embarrassment because of your dyslexia?

Nope, nope, and nopity nope.

[I consider this last answer a good sign that we’ve done well and had marvelous teachers not only to teach them but to train us as parent-teachers as well.]

*Note: Why this was the case stumped me for a long time, until I read Ronald Davis's The Gift of Dyslexia and better understood the kids' "picture thinking" tendencies. Because these shorter words don't have ready "pictures" to associate with them (how do you "picture" something like to be?), they are harder to store as symbols in the dyslexic's brain.