Dyslexia Does Not Require Medication

Originally Posted January 11, 2012

Here's a story to mull over before you make any decisions about your children's needs. My neighbour's, Sylvia, experience...

Her son Ryan was in grade 2 when he began to say he didn't want to go to school. It came on suddenly and surprised his parents as he had loved school right from the start.  She couldn’t get him to clearly explain why and she worried there might be a bully that he was too scared to tell her about. She asked him but he said no, that wasn't it. So she spoke to his teacher and she said Ryan was doing fine, he seemed to daydream a bit from time to time but all was good. Her gut was telling her otherwise and she pressed but was assured all was good. 

Sylvia told herself not to worry and told Ryan things would get better, it was a new grade, new teacher and sometimes things took a while to feel comfortable.  Ryan said he didn’t feel smart anymore and she did what any parent would do and told him he was every bit as smart as he always was, even his teacher said so.

As the year progressed it got harder and harder to get him to go and the tension spilled over into his reading homework. Anything school related was becoming a struggle. 

Mercifully June came and the year end report card noted he was a bit behind in reading (Sylvia had been told that was expected of boys) his math skills were great (also told this was a boy thing) and when he seemed bored and sometimes acted out that too was the delightful nature of boys. 

They enjoyed their summer but as grade 3 loomed on the horizon Ryan became more and more sullen. Sylvia tried to keep things positive and off they went to grade 3, mom with a hopeful smile on her face and Ryan looking like he was going to the electric chair.

In no time Ryan got into some trouble, acting up in class, nothing major they said but he would have to rein it in. By Christmas the school was getting upset, Ryan was getting a reputation for being disruptive and Sylvia was beside herself.

Ryan is smart. By the time he was 7 he was building his own amazing lego creations and as he took them apart from finish to start, he wrote the building instructions for putting them together going from start to finish. Now, as any mom worth her salt knows, building Lego with instructions for a tried and true Lego factory creation is hard enough, what this kid was doing was downright DaVinci-esque. It was hard to imagine what was going on with him to make him so sad.

Sylvia asked for a meeting and she sure got one. She sat at a table facing the principal, Ryan’s teacher and a school board psychologist to listen as they described her quiet and clever boy as troublesome, uncooperative, disrespectful and quite obviously challenged in some way. They couldn't tell her what the problem was but likely he needed meds and another school, one for kids with his difficulties, but she would need to get someone else to figure all that out as the school had done all it could.

Sylvia drove home in tears. She blamed herself for everything. She hadn't breast fed long enough, she let him stay up too late, she wore too many patterned clothes and they had fried his brain...the list was long. she self flagellated and called me crying. 

She and I talked it out. The problem was only at school and he also got his back up when she tried to read with him - and he wouldn’t even try anymore. A bell went off somewhere and I remembered a conversation I had with a Lani Donaldson, a literacy expert. She told me: “We learn to read from kindergarten to grade 3 and from grade 4 on we read to learn.”

“Can he read at all?” I asked her. “Not well.” she said. 

Maybe that was it. Once reading had become a big part of the overall learning experience he had begun to feel that he wasn’t - as he had put it - smart anymore. 

I suggested she see Lani and Sylvia took Ryan to Beacon Literacy (Lani's house of literacy miracles ) and when she assessed him she could see immediately that Ryan was dyslexic. She worked with the kid and the mom together so Sylvia would know how to help. Lani’s first step was to assure Ryan that he was smart and capable and safe. The work began and Ryan started reading. After that the rest fell into place.

No meds, no special school but Sylvia did move to him to a new school, having lost faith in the other one.


As parents we follow our gut when raising our children and most of the time that is a pretty reliable indicator. But when we sit across from doctors or teachers we often disregard our gut feeling thinking we are over-reacting or being too over-protective, too involved, too mothering or whatever label it is under which we fear we are being judged.

Yes these people are experts in their field but you are an expert in your field too, parenting your children. So if something doesn’t feel right, follow your gut to a second opinion.

Mentors and Coaches

Originally posted January 10, 2012

Whenever my friends and I discuss our children we invariably end up talking about the teen years that lie ahead ... that dark beast lurking in the shadows waiting to change our children into hateful, sweaty, smelly, unkept, pimply, surly ingrates. 

(By this point in my children’s story my husband I will be nearly 60 so one of two things will happen 1: years of Prozac will have done the trick and I won’t even notice they have become teens or 2: the last crazy gasps of menopause will combine with insanity of teenhood to create a reaction so volatile the house will instantaneously combust. Not sure which I am hoping for.)

The inevitable day will come when we will have transformed into the stupidest person in our children's world and the last one they would come to for advice, for guidance. It seems so impossible now. They are so young and when they look at us you can almost feel the radiant light they see around our glorious heads, hear the angels sing while we pose up on that parental pedestal, fabulous and all knowing.

             Insert deep sigh

My friend Michelle said that when her teen-aged son stop playing football it was his coaches his missed most, even more than the game he loved. And this is true of many kids who find a friend and mentor outside the home. These people are a blessing - if they won’t listen to us then please let it be someone who truly has their best interest at heart.

I am lucky that my kids already have people in their lives like that. People who stand on pedestals not quite as tall as mine right now but who will never be toppled from their post either. At Tao of Peace instructor Chris is one such influence. Twice during the class of tumbles and rolls he sits with the kids to break for Coach’s Corner. This segment of the class is worth the price of admission. Chris talks to them about respect and kindness and sharing, self-confidence and self-awareness and all manner of things I try to impart but the difference being that Jack really listens to Instructor Chris.  (and so does Clancy from the sidelines where she sits reading)

We all know kids often place more value in your message when it comes out of someone else’s mouth. By the time Jack and Clancy think I’m a moron their friendship with Chris will be many years in the making and where their dad and I cannot help them, Chris likely will.

I found my first mentor in my grade 6 teacher, Jane Locke, and we are still in touch today. I write because of a love of language my mother instilled in me that Jane, my English teacher shone a light on and encouraged from beyond the family tree.

Mentors and coaches are great things to find for your kids, go get one  ;-)

Time With Mom & Dad

Originally posted January 9, 2012

My kids still don't know how to swim. Bring that up amongst other moms and I feel the icy cold winds of judgement, I just put on another sweater.

For whatever reason both kids are terrified of water and yes, the right teacher and lessons would get them over that but the mere mention of it makes them shake in their boots. If we had a pool or lived near the sea I would force the issue but land-locked in Calgary I see no need to drag to them something about which they are terrified. There will be plenty of time as adults to do things they don’t like. And besides, I didn’t learn to swim until I was 11 and now I could swim the English Channel, if I really, really had to. (And if someone was holding a wedge of perfectly aged cheddar just out of reach.)

The kids have tried this and that and settled on the things they genuinely love. Jack, nearly seven, loves his art class and his karate at Tao of Peace and he even likes going to his Bright Minds math class on Sunday mornings. He wants to add Hip Hop to the list of but only after art is finished - his suggestion, not mine.

My daughter Clancy, nearly nine, also happily heads off to Bright Minds Thursdays after school and takes tremendous pride in her mathematical achievements. She had one session of art, one session of drama and one session of dance and after each said; “OK, I have the basics. Now I want to do it my way.” And she does.

After being somewhat disappointed with Brownies she and her pal, another ex-Brownie, get together every Wednesday after dinner for something they call Fireside Girls.  A club they devised in which they do a craft or play or imagine and sometimes even make a badge for the activity. She wants to start a book club next, she's happy as a clam in her quiet endeavours.

For the longest time I felt inadequate not traipsing all over town for various activities. I figured my age, having kids late in life and my proclivity to sit still (not to mention my sheer disdain for eating dinner in the car and being stressed out about driving hither and yon) had prevented my children from experiencing all that they could from swimming to learning the harp. But as it turns out I have exchanged that feeling of guilt for a self-satisfying and overly exaggerated, self-proclaimed talent for knowing what’s best. And, here's how I know:

Over the holidays the kids and I got into a discussion about time. We were watching the family cat move around to ensure she was sleeping in the patch of warm sun making its way across the living floor. Jack asked me if the cat knew what time it was like we did by where the sun was. I explained she did not even know what she was much less the time or the day of the week. We then began to talk about time and how humans are the only living being who have a relationship with it.

We talked about how fifteen minutes doing what you love seems to go by in a flash but the same amount of time, say at the dentist’s office, takes forever!  I noted that their two weeks off school was nearly up and I thought it felt like they had been home for months, they felt otherwise.

So I asked them how they best liked to spend their time. And you know what they said? “With you and Dad.”

There will be plenty of time for swimming lessons when one day "With you and Dad." won’t be their answer to that question.

The Algorithm of a Legacy

Originally Posted October 31, 2011

I was sitting with the kids while they were doing their Bright Minds math homework and commented that I was happy to be learning math, that the methods they were being taught made sense to me. My daughter asked why I had always had trouble with math since I “seemed so much smarter in other stuff.” (at least I've got that going for me)

I told her my mathphobia was a product of a high school teacher who made me feel very embarrassed whenever I asked if he could explain something once more. He sighed and rolled his eyes and spoke veeeeery sloooowly, as though I were daft, which invariably made the other kids laugh so eventually I stopped asking.

My mom told me not to worry about the math teacher because language was going to be my thing. Then she told me about her having quit school at 16 (a fact I don’t think I knew before) and we looked at education on her side of the family.

Her parents, Will and Dora were born in the late 1800’s.  My grandfather was 14 when, one night after dinner, his father said: “Will, that’s the last meal I am paying for. You had better get out and get a job.” So he quit school, got a job and contributed to the household coffers. An experience he shared with the majority of children in Victorian England.

By the time my mother got into her mid-teens my grandfather simply couldn’t help her with her homework. His shame resulted in angry outbursts  often enough that my mom no longer went to him for help, struggled on her own until she realized that she was not going to graduate, the maths and sciences would sink her. She went into the principal's office to quit and he didn’t so much as ask why, let alone try to help her stay. Off to work she went.

And what of her daughter, moi? Despite the fact my father was an accountant I did not go to him for help with homework. He didn’t have the patience and got frustrated with me when I didn’t understand. In the end I swapped out calculus for an algebra course, had a good teacher, did well, graduated and got a job to hold me over until I could figure what I would do in university that didn't require math. The legacy took hold of another generation - but it would be the last.

I explained my family's math history to the kids explaining to them that they were smart to begin with, doing well in Bright Minds and had a dad who could always help them so they would be just fine. As for how I could help - I vowed to personally deal with any eye-rolling teacher who thought humiliation was an acceptable teaching tactic.

To which Jack responded: “ I love you a googol Mom.” And that is a lot by the way, just google  a googol.

Cantonese Math

Originally posted September 28, 2011

I am reading Outliers by Malcolm Caldwell. It’s a fascinating read in which he discusses how timing, legacy, opportunity, practice and drive (amongst other factors) all play a vital role in success. 

From Amazon: “he makes the democratic assertion that superstars don't arise out of nowhere, propelled by genius and talent: "they are invariably the beneficiaries of hidden advantages and extraordinary opportunities and cultural legacies that allow them to learn and work hard and make sense of the world in ways others cannot." Examining the lives of outliers from Mozart to Bill Gates, he builds a convincing case for how successful people rise on a tide of advantages, "some deserved, some not, some earned, some just plain lucky."

In a chapter about China he talks about math - I learned some fascinating stuff.
The number-naming systems in Western languages is illogical.  (yes it is)
We say fourteen, fifteen, sixteen but rather than oneteen, twoteen and threeteen we have the nonsensical eleven, twelve and thirteen. Then we have fourty and sixty and seventy which make some sense but twenty and thirty and fifty don’t. Why not twoty, threety, and fivety?

When we get into the tens the ones number moves from the front to the back of the word: For example the number "four". In fourteen the unit is in front and twenty-four the unit is at the end. Madness.

In the Asian languages 11 is ten-one, twelve is ten-two and so on. Twenty is two-tens then two-tens-one, two-tens-two etc. (Eureka!) Children in Asian countries learn to count a full year ahead of Western kids and can easily do math in their head because they don’t have to translate words to numbers. 

For example: a child here is asked to add thirty-seven and twenty-two. First she has to convert the words to numbers: 37 + 22 then she has to add them: 2 plus 7 is 9 and 30 plus 20 is 50 add those together and you get 59.


Now try it the Asian way: three-tens-seven plus two-tens-two ... the equation is right there IN THE SENTENCE. It’s five-tens-nine. The answer and the number are the same. The 6 year old in me weeps with envy.

Caldwell goes on to point out that disenchantment with mathematics among Western children starts in third or fourth grades and that is perhaps due to the fact that it doesn’t seem to make sense - the basic rules seem arbitrary and complicated.

Asian kids however don’t feel that way. They can a count easily at young age, do sums in their head, hold more numbers in their sweet little heads and work logically with a very transparent system. And if you enjoy something you practice it, try harder, get better at it and rather than being disenchanted you are fluent.

Fear of Math

Originally Posted October 14, 2011

I became aware of math as a result of my mother’s frequent admissions that she was not good at it. I grew up in the 70’s when it was still a given "that girls weren't good at math" so by the time I finished high school I had long been convinced of my mathematical short comings and had said it aloud about myself so many times it had become a fact. 

Looking back now I realize how many choices I made in life to avoid math at all costs. I recall a conversation with my mom about wanting to be an interior decorator and having clients give me the key to their resort vacation home, a blank cheque and say “Do what you want, take all the time and money you need." A big dream quickly kicked to the curb when I found out: "You’ll need math for that.”  A phrase that stopped quite a few ideas from getting to square one until finally I made sure an absence of math was the first qualification for any career choices.

I choose to do things immersed in language and have managed quite well but my math inadequacies and fear of numbers are never far away. I vividly remember being pregnant and one of my first thoughts was “How will I help her with her math homework?” Fast forward eight years and sure enough it takes me longer to correct my daughter’s math homework than it takes her to do it.

I have lost two jobs (within days of starting) due my lack of number skills, my husband likes to poke fun at me when I struggle to work out a tip on a dinner bill and for the short time I was in charge of household finances we nearly ended up homeless.

So...when my daughter was first introduced to math in school I just expected her to say it was hard but she loves it and I am thrilled, I was convinced that FearofMath was a genetic condition.

Both my kids are quite capable with their growing math skills thanks to Bright Minds and they are developing a curiosity for it, the way I did with language. Even if they don't chose a career steeped in numbers at least the doors that were locked for me will stand open for them.

Better With an iPod Than a Knife & Fork

Originally posted October 11, 2011

Another holiday feast has come and gone. It was lovely to spend it with friends - good friends who don't mind that my children behave like savages at the table. Okay, maybe savages is an overstatement but nonetheless I was weary from all the; “Sit up straight.”, “Don’t hold your fork like a Neanderthal.”, “Use a napkin.”, “Stop dragging your sleeves thorough the cranberry sauce.” admonishments. It’s not fun for their dad and me and I know it’s no fun for them.

I had table manners pretty early in life but it’s likely because I had more experience at the table by the age of six than my daughter does at the age of eight. I came home for lunch and I used cutlery and a napkin and I honed my skills. For over two years now my daughter as eaten on the gym floor and had to wolf down her meals in 20 minutes (more like 12 by the time they find their pals, get seated and have a supervisor help open their tupperware) during which time they do more squirming and yakking than they do eating. I don’t blame them. If I sat on the floor for lunch  I’d be more prone to spinning on my butt and giggling than making sure I finished Mom's painstakingly selected items from all the major food groups.

So it’s no wonder that when they are at home they behave the same way they do in the gym; squirming in their chairs and snarfing down their food like they are going to the electric chair. Most days they come home with half their lunch left - “No time to finish Mom.” Most mothers here the same story. The kids who do finish their lunch in the short time allotted eat TUMS for dessert to put out the fire in their tiny guts.

The kids are taught nutrition and healthy eating habits in school and yet they are not given time to chew - let alone a table to eat at - and they come home famished after school.

And yes of course we go over it every night at dinner but they get deprogrammed the very next day at lunchtime. The notion of a nice family dinner and  sharing our news of the day is swallowed whole by the etiquette lessons...no time to chew the fat. 

Binding Our Children's Minds

Originally posted September 27, 2011

The mother I spoke about a few blogs back, whose child was bored and sad, has found hope. She took her daughter to check out a local grade 4-6 fine arts school last Thursday and the child was floating on air. She had her first day there yesterday and came home buzzing about the things she had done - AND - she was exhausted. A real, honest to goodness, pooped out kid who had been excited and challenged all day.

Sure the newness will fade to some degree but the interest will not wane. She met the kids who have been going to that school for two years and still wake up excited for the day to start. It’s true for anyone at any age - when we are constantly being asked to look at things from a new angle, to think independently and expand our learning rather than continually review the same things - we are invigorated.

Meanwhile my daughter’s grade three class spelling words this week included: “I”, “my”, “swim” and “wind”. I understand that not all kids are avid readers and spellers but shouldn’t there be a way to challenge the kids who are?

At home Clancy often asks me what words mean and we will look them up, spell them, conjugate them and use them in a sentence. And we play with them.

This morning she wanted to know about “fraternize” as she had read it a book last night. We looked up its origins and she was thrilled to learn that “frat” comes from the latin “frater” which means brother. She rhymed it with “brat” so her brother the “frat who is a brat”. She thought that was funny until she suddenly realized that by rearranging the letters she got “fart” and that resulted in gales of laughter. Poor Jack now is a frat brat that farts.

I asked her what she thought of having easy words on her list. She said it was great because she got perfect scores and that put her ahead. "Ahead of what?" I asked. "The rest of the class." she replied. It was sad to see she what she drew from all this. I told her: "Clancy, most of the other kids are spelling these words just as easily as you are. You are not ahead, you are behind in your capabilities. Finishing fast and getting more time to doodle is not a good use of your time and likely the reason that when I ask: "What did you do in school today?", you say you can't remember.

These young minds are thirsty and capable of so much more than we give them credit for and I thank my lucky stars every day that I met Aaron and Moses Renert (the frats) and that they excite and challenge my kids’ “bright minds”. 

Speaking of which ...

A parent in the Bright Minds group told her school’s principal that her child was taking the Bright Minds course where kids in grade one are learning to multiply. The principal said that wouldn't work because 90% of kids CAN'T learn stuff like that at that age. So the mom asked the principal if she had tried to teach the kids to see for herself. The principal said no she had not because "studies" show a child can't process that kind of math yet. 

The mom, whose grade one child CAN multiply, replied: “you keep saying you “can’t” do things. You simply won’t. It's like the chinese binding babies feet so they stay small, that’s what you are doing to our children's brains.”

Entitled to a Retort

Originally posted September 22, 2011

Blog before last I posted the link and my views on a Globe and Mail article about the Generation of Entitlement.

Well, in response to the original story there is a great opinion piece in today's Globe by Gary Mason in which he takes an entirely different view on the subject and frankly I like it, it's much more hopeful. But, I although I do find credence in both sides I think the truth falls somewhere in between. Gary says: 

"To me, the marvel is just how well today’s twentysomethings have turned out despite our best efforts as parents to wrap them in cocoons of self-centredness and privilege. They’re going to be just fine." click here for the whole article, well worth a look 

Some Kids Are Bored at School

Originally posted September 9, 2011

My friend’s daughter comes home everyday from school and begs not to go back. We have all heard that from our kids but when you hear it everyday it bears investigation. What is the impetus for this plea? Is she being bullied? Is she having trouble understanding, hearing, seeing? Does she need glasses or just a good, hard talking to about life and the things we HAVE to do? 

It’s become apparent over the weeks and months that this kid is so bored it makes her sad. Truly sad and bordering scarily on being downright depressed. She's all of nine.

School is not serving up anything that whets her appetite. Out of the classroom she is self-directed and finds things that she can immerse herself in for hours; googling and reading and watching anything and everything she can find on a subject she loves. Animal behaviour, the history of a far off country, the culture of a people she will likely never encounter - none of which are topics that will ever be brought up in elementary school let alone studied in depth to the degree that this kid digs on her own.

Forced to keep going to a place that does not engage her she will eventually lose the desire to learn altogether. 

Everyday our children show themselves as being what they truly are, what we all are when we are young - curious. We are born with inquiring minds. Just watch a two year old explore his environment. He touches, tastes and smells it all to discover, not be shown, all the amazing things around him. When these innate energies are stifled we begin to wither.

Can there be anything more heart breaking than to watch our children slowly become more and more bored with their young lives? 

If you are curious about your children and they ways in which they like to learn and what you can do to stimulate those appetites, read this great article entitled The Educational Value of Creative Disobedience

Entitlement

Originally posted September 18, 2011


Coming of age during the Sexual Revolution sure sounds better than being part of the Entitlement Generation. What a bleak moniker for a bunch of kids who have only their parents to blame.

Somewhere along the way Mom and Dad bought in to the notion that they their kids mustn't be told no, or that they have made a mistake, that they are wrong, did not try hard enough, have not made the team. Loving parents who filled them full of well-intended but crippling false praise to shelter them from life. And what did they get for it? A generation of hapless kids who have no idea how to how to learn from mistakes, to take a hit, recover from a setback or be told they have to try harder.

In hockey rinks around our neighbourhood they stop keeping score if one team is too far ahead. You can unplug the scoreboard if you want but every kid on the ice knows exactly what the score is. The only thing they can't figure out is why their parents are hiding it from them.

And for goodness sake don't fail them! It's much better to move them ahead where they will fall further behind than hold them back until they grasp the material. Failing them is "bad for their self- esteem" ... as though being a 23 year old dunderhead won't be. 

More on the Entitlement Generation form The Globe and Mail's Margaret Wente.

My Kid's a Genius

Originally Posted September 16, 2011

So what about the notion of genius? Is there such a thing? Is genius innate? Can it be learned? Is it boundless passion and deliberate practice or simply a gift? Better yet, what defines genius? They say Darwin didn’t possess an extraordinarily high IQ and Stephen Hawking won’t even divulge his, saying the IQ measurement as we know it holds no bearing. Imagination, creativity, inspiration, perspiration - how can we measure the key ingredients that must be present in order for anyone to achieve greatness? The word itself - genius - originates from Greek mythology and refers to a guiding spirit everyone had. It wasn’t until much later it took on a definition of exclusivity. 

So perhaps we all have it in us to be a genius, why not?
For more on the subject to listen this fabulous podcast at CBC