Learning Disability?

Some experiences set events in motion in ways totally unexpected. I did not think babysitting as a 13 year old would shape my future so directly. The Hayes family lived across the street. They had two children,lively 18 month old Amanda, and 8 year old Jason. I particularly loved working for the Hayes. Both parents were English teachers. They had a whole room lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves. After the children were in bed, I was allowed to choose anything I wanted from the shelves and read until my eyes were itchy. Also, the family sailed and I often went out sailing the Great Lakes or Georgian Bay with them to help crew, but also prevent the children from drowning themselves in their enthusiasm to be part of all and any action. Jason was very active and full of fun. He easily learned how to sail, tie knots and eagerly listened to any story I was willing to make up. Jason could build anything and was constantly at war with little Amanda who wanted to knock down his elaborate constructions. But Jason did not have many friends and did not roam with the noisy pack of little boys who raced through the neighbourhood. This was so different from the confident sailor and eager collaborator for adventures planned within his family. Still, I thought Jason was a typical, well-adjusted second grader.

One day I arrived to look after the children just as Jason arrived home from school with a face like a thundercloud. He flung his school bag on the floor, shouted rudely at his mother, and pushed Amanda down on his way to his room. The door slammed. Mrs. Hayes was on the verge of reprimanding her son, when she saw a crumpled paper amongst the contents of Jason's school bag, which were spread over the kitchen floor where they had landed. "Oh no" she said, and bent to retrieve it. She spread the paper out on the table. It was Jason's report card. His marks were represented in the form of a graph, where the class averages were in blue, grades above the average in green, and those below, in red. An angry red line slashed across Jason's report. For a moment Mrs. Hayes looked defeated, but then she looked very angry indeed.

I suppose because I was there comforting Amanda, Mrs. Hayes decided to explain to me. She told me that Jason had a learning disability. He was having difficulty learning the same way as the other children, although he was just as smart. Reading was particularly hard for him. He had few successes at school. Mrs. Hayes had become an expert on learning disabilities. She was an advocate for Jason in a school system which, at the time, had little interest in students with special needs of any kind. She had specifically asked the school to mail Jason's report card to her. She knew that all the children would open their envelopes in the school yard and compare marks. She had wanted to spare her already fragile son that indignity. My 13 year old self had a glimpse of the frustration, pain and loss a mother could feel. This was clearly an educated, loving family who immersed their children in words, books and learning. I thought that children who did not do well in elementary school were either not stimulated at home or perhaps just "slow".

I had never heard the term "learning disability". My high school was populated by the typical groups: the jocks, acid-heads, "shop" boys, smart kids, cheerleaders, "bad" kids. We all desperately tried to fit in somewhere. The "dumb" kids were always persecuted. We never stopped too think about why any of our peers did poorly at school, except to conclude that it was "lack of application", as our parents and teachers told us, or lack of ability, to be pitied.

That year I learned a lot from Mrs. Hayes. I read my first journal article. I did essays for school on learning disabilities, the brain and intelligence. I became interested in special education. That was the year too that my friends and I started to dream about what we might become. I thought maybe a teacher, or a special education teacher. But it did not seem quite right for me. The more I learned about learning disabilities and other special needs a common theme seemed to emerge, language. I started then to think about language. What did it mean to not be able to understand or express yourself with ease? How did we learn to speak? The concepts were difficult for me to grasp. I found out there was actually a profession that was all about language, a speech pathologist! From that time on the die was cast for me. I wanted to be a speech pathologist.

I lost touch with the Hayes when I left home to go to university. I often wonder how things turned out for Jason. Well, I like to think. You never anticipate what can profoundly shape your life. Thank you Jason.