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HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE DYSLEXIC?Most Dyslexics have problems with reading, writing and short-term memory; a combination of all or some and in varying degrees. Until recently children who struggled with these conditions were often labelled slow, lazy or disruptive. Many suffer from lack of self esteem, confidence and become humiliated and frustrated because they are normally bright, quick and gifted individuals who cannot seem to work in the written and reading world at the same pace as their other classmates. We need to support them, to build their confidence & self esteem.
Some describe Dyslexia as being alone on an Island, where nobody understands you and how you feel.
Beneath the Surface I have blond her, Blue eys and an infeckshos smill. Pealpie tell mum haw gorgus I am and is ent she looky to have me. But under the surface I live in a tumoyl. Words look like swigles and riting storys is a disaster area because of spellings. There were no ply times at my old school untill work was fineshed wich ment no plytims at all. Thechers sead I was clevor but just didn't try. Shouting was the only way the techors comuniccatid with me. Uther boys made fun of me and so I beckame lonly and mishroboll. it was like being jon a decert island lost and alone. Life was life and sckooll was sckool. Tings cangd when I moved to my new sckooll. I am the same inside new as I am out side. I can not reed and spell, well all most. I have frens and the teckhors all most never shout. They treet me as an intellejent person and not a zomby. I wish I new my fythor. I wonder wot will hapon to me when I have to leve. Will my in side sty the same as my out side. Wat will be Beneath my Surface. I wish I new. Alexander Parsonage (9) 1989 Taken from The Dyslexia Institutes book "As I See It" 1990
The poem below was written by Alistair Lowndes-Knight, a young dyslexic boy .. .. .. .. and the passage above this poem is from a young dyslexic boy, Alexander .. .. .. .. TOMORROW …..(THE FUTURE) Once there was a magical, enchanting and mysterious crystal ball .. .. ..
Once a green, slimy, disgusting and forlorn lonely goblin gazed into the crystal ball and glimpsed children happily playing with their friends.
Once a bloody hungry, murdering lunatic peered into the crystal ball and watched how it felt to be cold hearted killed .. .. ..
Once a poor, cold, sad homeless orphan stared into the crystal ball and saw a warm home with a well fed family and kind parents .. .. ..
One day I decided to risk looking into the mist in the ball. As I cupped my hands I saw disappointment embarrassment humiliation and frustration piling up for me.
Then at the very end before the mist swirled back into dense foggy cloud I caught sight of a glimmer of hope. Alistair Lowndes-Knight
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