Keeping Strong and Carrying On with Dyslexia

Ross Chapman 2013 Anne Ford Scholar

It is very hard to say when I first noticed my dyslexia. I learned the alphabet, but could not understand how my peers could read sentences on a page with dancing letters. It was like a daytime nightmare to hear my teacher’s voice asking me to do pop-corn reading. Teachers noticed how I struggled. I was tested in school and by a psychologist and both diagnosed me as dyslexic. Dyslexia? What is that? Is there something wrong with me? These were questions went through my head and it scared me. My mother explained that my brain is wired differently than most. Throughout my grade school years, nothing seemed to help me be successful in my studies. My math and reading skills were well below grade level. I wanted to read, but there was little progress.

Dyslexia also affected my ability to do simple math problems. At times I wanted to cry and I know my mother did. I wanted to hide my disability from my peers. But, something changed the moment I told a friend that I had dyslexia. He acted like he did not care if I had this thing called “dyslexia”…he was my friend. Even better was that I now was able to accept myself and even like myself.

Growing up, 2013 Anne Ford Scholar Ross Chapman always identified with the train in the children's book The Little Engine That Could. Like the engine, Ross would keep chugging along with great determination, even when the challenges of his dyslexia seemed insurmountable to outsiders. Now, his hard work has paid off.

I know they say "practice makes perfect." Well, no matter how much I practice…I sure am not perfect. In fifth grade I could read some sight words. I was in special classes for most of my academics. They gave me support and extra time in my general classes. I was far behind the rest of the class in academics. But the one “gift” my dyslexia gave to me was determination! I very much wanted to succeed at math and reading. So I did my best and then some…to no avail. My special education teacher read our class the quote from Winston Churchill, “Never give up, never, never, never give up!” This quote made me smile and helped develop my determination to succeed.

I always pictured myself as “the little engine that could.” I told myself that day that it might take me a long time to learn to read…and that would be alright. But I would do it. Reading is not a race. So I chugged along through grade school. I started thinking of myself as working with my dyslexia, instead of against it.

However, this engine couldn’t do anything until the summer between fifth and sixth grade. That summer, I started running with the high school cross country team. I needed a yearly sports physical. There, my doctor explained that I could not run because he thought that I had a heart murmur. In fact, I was not allowed to do any physical activity until the doctor cleared me.

What was I supposed to do? I grew tired of watching television quickly. As boredom closed in on me, my mom suggested I visit the library. I was so bored at home that I took her advice and went. I started in the children’s section. Day after day for weeks that summer I hung out at the library reading. Librarians began to know me by name because I was there so much. What happened next is still to this very day a mystery. That summer, I started off reading Dr. Seuss books. By the end of the summer, I was reading Tom Clancy’s adult-level thrillers. I finally saw the magic in reading books. I was not the fastest reader, but I finally got those letters on the book pages to stop dancing.