I had just sat down at my desk when my teacher called me out to the hallway. I remember it so clearly. I was six and all I could think was I’m in trouble. As we entered the hallway there was a women standing in the hall. When the women began to come over I could hear my heart beating out of my chest.
My teacher had introduced us, then she bent down to explain that this woman here is going to do a few tests with you, and take your time with the tests there is no rush. A few weeks later my parents and I had come in for the results of the tests. When I sat down at the table, the silence in the room began to make me feel very scared.
Then my feelings had become even more real. They started to tell me that I had a reading problem, that I was not developing reading skills as fast as the other children in my grade and that I would be going to see another teacher who would be helping me with my problems.
As years pass elementary school began to get harder for me to hide being different than other children. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I would have to go to a class with other children to be doing work that would help us better understand reading comprehension, spelling, and writing.
Each class had made me develop my understanding of reading and writing better and better, improving my grades each year. Over years my mind had improved understanding but I still had felt you’re not good enough.
In grade five my teacher had told us that we would be starting to learn French; I was so excited. We were going to do French on Monday and Friday. Monday had come and we were all so excited to meet our French teacher. After lunch the French teacher walked into the room and introduced herself.
She handed all of us an outline for her French class. It was interesting with numbers, letters, and colours we would be learning. The French teacher was going to start a game when my teacher called me of the class. He told me that I would not be doing French with the rest of the class; I would be going to my extra help class.
Feeling like a freak I walked down the empty hall, starting to cry. I was not even given the chance to succeed; they had already ruled me out to fail.
Read the full article here: Student with Learning Disabilities: Experiences growing up