How Can LD Affect a Family or Marriage?
Going back to the beginning, when you and your husband first realized that your son David was having difficulty learning, did the dynamic between the two of you change and, if so, in what ways?
Dr. Lissa Weinstein:
Well, I think we initially had very different perceptions about what was going on and how serious it was. My husband is a research psychiatrist and from a long line of Harvard grads, and he knew something was wrong, but in a way I think he really didn't quite get it. His attitude was, "Don't worry, David is very bright, he'll be fine. Everybody learns to read sooner or later; whatever problems David has, he's so bright, he'll learn to compensate." Larry tended to stay kind of distant and get more involved in his work, which is often, I think, how men respond to something like this. I've seen and evaluated a lot of kids with learning disabilities in my career, and it's rarely the fathers who are in my office.
A lot of that, however, is because the mother is so involved and is spending so much more time with the child. And, because of this, I think that moms have a much better intuitive sense and know when something is wrong. If you're not with the child a lot, then you probably won't pick up on these issues.
So I felt like I was closer to the problem and knew better how much pain David was going to be in for. The first manifestation was in speech; he had all the classic difficulties with articulating speech sounds, and this is what he was first in therapy for. It was only when I took him for a later speech evaluation, when he was doing a test that involved naming, and I looked at the responses he had given, that I couldn't deny that it wasn't just a speech problem, that it was going to be a reading problem too. He had terrible trouble learning letters. In fact, he really had all the most serious signs of dyslexia. I think from the beginning I was also more anxious about David's problems than my husband was, especially after seeing the results of that test. I was really afraid he'd never learn to read.
Did the two of you talk about the David's problems openly? Were you able to talk with David about his dyslexia as he began getting older?
It really wasn't until I wrote the book about my experiences, Reading David, that I realized how little my husband and I talked about it. We didn't talk about the pain of it; we didn't talk about what the future probably held for David and for us. As a clinical psychologist, I had tested and evaluated a number of dyslexic children. I knew how the developmental course would run, and that it would be, at best, extremely difficult for all of us.
Of course, it's one thing when you're diagnosing a child professionally and entirely another when the child is your own. What you're suffering from is what is known in psychiatry as a narcissistic injury: everyone fantasizes that they're going to have perfect children, who are going to be better than you are in every way, and when that doesn't happen it's very natural to try to avoid the pain and the disappointment by not talking about it. That's part of the reason I started writing the book, because I felt we all had to start talking about it, especially my son.
By that point, I wasn't so concerned about my husband. I thought, 'Hey, he's a grownup, let him deal with it.' But with David, by the time he was at the end of second grade, I could see he was in terrible pain. We've always had an intensely close relationship, and I could see he was just closing up into himself. You could see the pain on his face. This was a child who had loved language, had loved being read to, and suddenly you couldn't get him to go near a book. He would cry at the bus stop going to school. Finally, we were on vacation, and I said to him, 'You know, we should really write a book about this.' I never intended to publish it; it was really just a ploy to get him to talk to me.
But when he started opening up and telling me about what he was experiencing, I was simply amazed. He was telling me things that, even as a psychologist, I had no idea about; about the way he processed information, about how early he knew he had it. He said, "I knew in preschool I wasn't going to read." It just blew me away that I'd never heard this from him before.
Children are extremely sensitive to a parent's pain: They don't want to hurt you; they don't want to tell you something that they think might make you not love them. I see this all the time in my office; everyone ends up colluding in a ring of silence. The parent says, "I don't want to tell him he's being tested," or "He doesn't know anything is wrong." Then the child comes in and says, "I look at the words, and I can't keep the order in my head." It's obvious that they know what's going on, that something is wrong, and the parents are doing them no favor by not talking about it.
Are there other aspects of the parent/child relationship that you find parents of children with learning disabilities often mishandle or neglect?
Oftentimes, I think parents neglect play and don't encourage it enough or understand how to make the most of it in terms of a child's learning. For example, David got very interested in dinosaurs around the second grade and started drawing pictures of them and naming them. And I encouraged him, though when he started I also worried that it was something he was doing as a way to avoid having to practice his reading. Over the course of writing the book, though, I came to realize this was a kind of self-remediation through play, a way he had found to teach himself. He would draw a picture of a dinosaur, write its name and say the name over and over again. The names were long words, usually pronounced as written, and there was a picture he could associate with the word. That was how he taught himself to sound things out, learning the name from the picture and repeating it over and over.
Play tells you what a child's passion is, what they really love. For a child who reads normally, just learning how to decode letters and words gives them a kind of power. They feel they're joining the adult world. A dyslexic child, though, generally never gets that pleasure, reading is painful for them. Play can help them get over their anxieties about their reading problems and so, when you plan a remediation for a dyslexic child, you need to ask that question: What does this child really love. What is his or her passion?
Play also helps children begin to understand that words are an abstraction, that they are symbols that represent things, and to start developing an intellectual structure to better understand the world around them. And because a child is taking pleasure in play, it generates a lot of repetition. They'll tend to do the same thing over and over because they're enjoying it, and this really helps dyslexic children make the connection between sound and symbol. Not that you should simply let them play as much as they want. They need, for example, a good structured phonics program, to teach them how to sound words out, and they need to be taught that in an orderly way. But you also want to make the child a learner and to teach them that there can be pleasure in learning. Unstructured play can help teach that.
What is the most important thing for the mother or father of a child with learning disabilities to remember about parent-child dynamics?
The most important thing you can do for a child with learning disabilities is to make sure he or she feels safe within the parent-child relationship. There needs to be a lot of emotional reassurance and a kind of emotional predictability on the part of the parent. Dyslexic children are going to be angry and frustrated, and they're often going to make you angry and frustrated. It's very important that they can read your signals about what you want and what you expect from them and that those signals are consistent. One of the worst things that can happen, and I think parents of dyslexic children are especially at risk for this, is abandoning the child emotionally, because he or she is harder to deal with or because the parent is so disappointed because the child is not "perfect." What a child has to know, and what you need to say to them, is, "We will deal with this and get through it together. It will be hard, you're going to have to learn to read in a different way than the other kids, but you will learn to read. And we will do it together."