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Dyslexic
Stories
Weird -
Stutter -
Trouble-Shooter -
Poetry
They Thought Me
Weird
Once, back in high school I was talking to some
fellow students as one of them circled around behind me. I was about
to sit down and he positioned himself to pull the chair out from
under me. I kept talking as I began to back up to the chair to sit.
As the chair was pulled back I continued my story, walking backward
step after backward step, until I finally sat in the chair.
Everyone's eyes became wide open. I interrupted my story to ask,
"What's up?" One student asked, "How did you do that?" I said, "Do
what?" I was already considered "weird", that incident solidified
their perception of me being "weird."
One of the 'symptoms' of dyslexia is that the person has a wider
peripheral awareness then the 'average' person.
I now see that my dyslexic mind, always active, multitasking
automatically, had kept me aware of my surroundings and I was not
going to sit down until I knew the chair was firmly behind me.
Evidently, I was waiting for one of my legs to touch the chair
before sitting down into it. My dyslexia saved my, behind.
I am a Stutterer
I have stuttered as long as I can remember. I have
learned to substitute words for those I stumble on to better my
fluency.
Some sounds are harsher than others and when I can substitute a
softer sound for the harsher sound my larynx is relaxed enough to
proceed with better fluency.
My dyslexia allows my brain to quickly search my vocabulary to find
other words or phrases to substitute for the word my stuttering has
me stalled on. ... And all these years I thought I just enjoyed
building my vocabulary.
Trouble-Shooter
I worked 31 years for a telephone company. Most of
those years were as a telephone installer/repairman. The
multidimensional thought process of dyslexia helped me to think
around, through and well beyond the box. I was able to surmise
alternate solutions to problems that were unusual and that evaded
normal trouble shooting techniques. Several customers had later said
I solved the trouble on their phone lines when several other
technicians had failed.
I am a Poet
I began writing poetry when I learned I could write.
The elementary school had labeled me "slow". Being labeled "slow"
had probably sat in the back of my mind, seeping into my
self-perception of who I thought I was. In fourth grade we were
learning about Arabs and were to write a poem about them. I remember
one line from that poem. "They stopped at the oasis, to play cards
of aces." The teacher said I had potential but failed to continue
the encouragement. At the age of 45 I began to write letters to the
editor and having received encouragement, I thought I might attempt
a poem. It was liked by those I showed it to, so I continued to
write more poetry.
"Life Abounds in Nature's Sound" was to be the first, of my becoming
a poet. I find my poems seems to write themselves. Of course the
credit belongs to my creator, however he created me as a dyslexic.
My dyslexic mind, always active, always multitasking, analyzing,
comparing, evaluating, at speeds so incredible I am unaware of the
processes. When writing my poetry the process of phrasing and
rephrasing to express my thoughts comes more and more natural.
Evidently, I would inadvertently focus my dyslexic mind onto that
process in finding the perfect line for my poem.
Writing poetry is a gift enabled by my dyslexia created by my God.
© 2015 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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Dyslexia Poem
This poem weaves in, around and through my and
my son's dyslexic journeys,
touching on the journey of the originator of the Davis Dyslexia
Program (Dyslexia.com).
Mining the Mind
by Roger W Hancock
Inside the mind
a gold mine when the intelligence is mined.
The untrained mind is as iron ore, useless without refinement.
Letters twirl, swirl, flip and flop; an unintelligible prance;
an adjusting focus is needed to choreograph that dance.
Untrained yet educated teachers do not understand,
calling me slow, stupid, on drugs, schools don’t know;
Schools don’t know how I think, how my mind will sync.
My interests, my hobbies, show my mind can grow,
failing to teach students all, teachers failed to see my potential.
I tried to learn school's standard way but my mind betrayed,
so I give up and stray, "Why try?" if failure is the only bray.
Eureka in reading, comes from one dyslexic who knows,
himself through his dyslexic journey, has taken worse blows.
Dyslexic now teaches teachers how to teach dyslexics,
how I best learn; how to focus my dyslexic mind.
Schools taught how to read, but not to control the mind to read.
failure is the teachers, not mine, that I could not, control my mind.
Now I focus through mind’s eye, single out printed thought,
always analyzing mind corralled, jumbled letters come in line.
Hopelessness in learning, has lost frustration's harness,
for now I see possibilities, to read, to build future success.
I now mine to control my mind, take dyslexia's dimensions,
organize vastness of thoughts, ending the confusion blasts.
I struck gold, my ever unruly multitasking mind, no longer rules…
I rule, for I now am the master of my multidimensional mind.
©
August 4th, 2015 Roger W Hancock,
www.PoetPatriot.com
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