Ever since I could remember, I had issues understanding what people were saying when they talked to me. I never processed things as fast as other kids my age did, and it always took me longer to complete tasks that were usually done in 10 minutes.
When I was in kindergarten, my teacher realized this right away. After discussing what she thought could be a learning disability with my parents, I was sent for testing by my teacher. Sure enough, I was diagnosed with Central Auditory Processing Disorder or CAPD. This is a hearing problem that affects about five percent of kids. Children who have this disorder can't process what they hear in the same way other kids do because their ears and brain don't fully coordinate.
When my mom would try to talk to me, there was always this disconnect, like I wasn't processing what she was saying the right way. And when she would ask me to do something, I would never respond right away, and she always thought it was because I was ignoring her and being a typical kid. But what she didn’t realize was that it went further than being the stereotypical kid who never did what their parents asked them to do or would ignore them when they would talk. I guess they never really made that connection that CAPD doesn’t just occur while I was at school. However, they noticed that I was never a focused child, and again just thought of it as being a typical kid.
I remember being so frustrated when it came to school and doing my homework. I would sit there and cry for hours because nothing made sense to me like it should have. It felt like no matter what I did, nothing came easy to me. My parents would try to sit down and help me with my work, but it was so hard for them to sit and watch me struggle trying to learn and focus. It wasn’t like I was lazy and didn’t want to learn, I yearned to learn. I wanted to learn so much, and it was so disappointing to me when I just couldn’t understand it.
Finally, my teachers saw that there was something else wrong. They saw my frustration and my inability to process what they were saying very clearly, but they knew that wasn’t it. My sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Hill, noticed it, and thank God she did because who knows if I would even be in college right now if it wasn’t for her.
Again, I went back for more testing, and I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder or AD/HD. The definition outlined by the American Psychological Association is the lifelong, persistent pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that interferes with functioning or development across time and settings. In simpler terms, I just couldn’t focus.
Automatically I was put on medication to combat the disorder, which completely transformed my life. I was also put into classes that suited my learning disabilities and made it easier for me to transition into learning for the first time. I was so happy to actually learn, and it was the most gratifying feeling to learn something and actually understand it for the first time in my entire life.
You don’t see many eleven-year-olds actually excited to go to school and get home to do their homework. My parents were in absolute shock of how much I had accomplished in just the first year of being treated. Seventh grade, I will never forget, because it was the first year that I had received straight A’s, had gotten High Honor Roll, and was able to understand what I was learning. Yeah, it was only seventh grade but, for me, it was one of my biggest accomplishments.
I excelled after that so much and so fast that eventually I outgrew my Individualized Education Program or IEP in tenth grade. And by eleventh I was mainstreamed into all normal classes, and held my weight the entire time. I was so determined to beat my own disabilities, I did everything I could to not let that be something that held me back. I worked hard, studied hard, and achieved what many aren’t able to do.
Even though I was so happy and excited to learn, I began to feel afraid. After being diagnosed, I felt like people were going to find out that I wasn't like a normal kid. I felt very self-conscious of my disability and did everything in my power to try and hide it. But when my friends would ask me why I wasn't in normal classes, I would just say I don't know.
But I did... Eventually, I learned that my disability does not define who I am as a person. That it doesn't make me not normal, or affect my personality. I learned to love myself for who I am eventually. That I shouldn't be afraid of what anyone thinks because I have my family and friends who love and support me.
And to anyone who has been affected by a learning disability or anything, you are not defined by your diagnosis. Don't ever feel like you can't express who you are.
