28
Jan
12

He’ll catch on; he’s such a nice boy

Kyle’s 8 years old now. But he’s just beginning second grade; he was “held back” in kindergarten because his teachers thought he was immature. Kyle’s Verbal abilities reached into the Superior range at 124, better than 94 % of the kids his age. Put another way, he had the “mental age” of a child two or more years older than he. That is, he answered test items that the typical 10 or 11-year-old would answer. Of course, that age group is in the 4th/5th grade NOT the first month of 2nd grade.

Kyle was told to write about his dream house. He dutifully positioned his lined paper on his desk and began to scrawl, gripping he pencil tightly as if at any moment it would squirt from his fingers and clatter on the classroom floor and invite a warning from his teacher, Miss Warmsly.

He thought of a lot of things, actually pictured his dream house in his mind’s eye, colorful and detailed in ways only children can imagine. His house would be near the ocean; it would be a house boat so he could watch the fish go by and swim any time he wanted.

Below you can see what he wrote.  He spent ten minutes on it. When his teacher strolled by his desk, she cooed, “Good job, Kyle. Why not add some more?”

But Kyle knew that the tangle of lines and curves he’d just engraved on his paper were garbage. They made no sense to him. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t sure whether they were wrong or right because when he went to write, he couldn’t think of how the letters should look, “How do you make a ‘y’?” he’d asked himself when he started to write the word “you”. Just a vague knot of lines floated momentarily in his head. He prayed (he was a good Christian boy) he wouldn’t have to read his description to the class because he  had no idea of what his markings “said” or even when  one word ended and the next began. How did the other kids do it, he wondered and make it look so easy and even add illustartions.

Kyle was very bright. And so knew he was an abject failure; kids had laughed at his work before. Anger and tears competed just below the surface as Kyle stared at his paper.  Miss Warmsly was sooooo nice and he wanted so much to please her. But he knew her coos and smiles and kind gaze were basically those of sympathy and pity and well-disguised disappointment. He knew these things because  her coos and all were replaced by genuine sounds of praise and pleasure when she looked at the other kids’ papers… and because he was sharp, insightful.

Kyle dreaded the possibility that anyone would see his “writing”. He dreaded it so much that nausea began to get  jumbled in with his anger and tears. So, he put his head down on his desk and wouldn’t look up, put his arms and head over his paper so his shame would be hidden.

Later, a “learning specialist” tested Kyle’s writing skills and concluded that they were in the “average” range and that he should try harder because she and all his teachers “knew he could do it”. The specialist did note that “Kyle’s spelling errors and sentence structure made it difficult to gain meaning from his writing” but that “overall, Kyles’ writing skills were in the avegrage range.”

Two months later, Kyle became obstinate,”oppositional”, even “defiant”. He was sent to the principal’s office several times. His parents were called in. They were told he had an emotional problem, that he needed help and, of course, that he was “coming along” in his writing.

Three months later, Kyle was in my office so I could see how he was doing. He was sullen, defensive. He did not smile at all…only once when he talked about a science fair he went to with his Dad. He was severely limited in both reading and writing. Indeed, he was a long way from literacy, a very long way.

Kyle’s dream house remained invisible to everyone, friends, family, teachers. It stayed in his head, this elegant floating boat house on a sapphire sea, beautiful fish leaping at the bow, the sun so warm on his face. He swore to himself he’d never, ever, ever again put his heart on paper where it would be ridiculed and trampled in the laughter of his classmates.

At a meeting I attended, one where his teachers and specialists and parents gathered to discuss Kyle’s  “issues”, I asked if any one  of them would be so kind as to read Kyle’s “dream house” paper  aloud (I’d made copies for all). They politely declined. “He’s such a nice little boy!” his teacher cooed.

Kyle will be in therapy soon, superior intelligence and all.

The humiliation of a dyslexic

Advertisements

0 Responses to “He’ll catch on; he’s such a nice boy”



  1. Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: