Wednesday, June 10, 2015

A Look of Shame: Learning Disability Hints and IDEA

As with all of my postings, materiel changes in descriptions of clients are made to protect their identity.

Speaking with a typically developing teen and his dad (mom works late), we reviewed his end of year grades.  With a bit of a sheepish smile he said he had C's and B's.  Now I know this kid, he's not lacking smarts.  His parents are very successful in their jointly owned business.  And while genetics aren't everything, they do need to be considered.  Thus my hunch that the reason, we'll call him Harry, the reason Harry didn't perform better academically was not due to his lack of potential.

So I inquired how much he studies and does homework at home.  Again, with his sheepish, engaging smile "about 15 minutes" slid out of his mouth.  Nightly? No, Per week.  "So" I said,"That's about zero minutes per night, if we round it out."  We all smiled, laughed a bit, and as I explored his lack of persistence in his work ethic (an ethic he has for many other activities, some of them pretty technical) I suspected that he might be having troubles reading.

He admitted that he did mentioning that the only way he could get through his English lit class this year was to listen to the book on CD while reading it.  Hmmmm, another data point.  A classic compensation for someone with a learning disability.  I asked more: has reading always been hard?  Yes.  Do you read for pleasure?  No.  So I looked at dad and asked: Do either you or your wife have any history of challenges with reading?  And then it happened.

Now this dad is as gregarious a guy as you'll meet.  As I mentioned, he's quite successful, and his personality has clearly helped in his career.  We often banter, joke and he's never caught off guard.  Dad's look was one I wish I could have photographed.  Here's this man who I know to be worth many millions of dollars with a business that's likely worth many millions more.  And just at the moment I asked if he or his wife had difficulty learning he looked like a 4 year old kid who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  He was without words.  His chin looked like it was going to quiver. The tears of shame were close.  He looked so sad, like he needed to sit on someone's lap for comfort. Finally he squeezed out, shamefully, quietly, "Yes, I've never read well."

I reviewed with him, you went to college, right?  Yes, he replied, a couple of years at a technical college.  He did well in the tech classes as they demanded less reading.  I worked as hard as I could to normalize his challenges, and went on my LD schpiel, one that I and other professionals have given a zillion times.  It's about how LD's were very common and have nothing to do with intelligence - as evidenced by dad's broad knowledge about a plethora of topics.  I went on to add that LD's were often found in family trees, so the hypothesis was that Harry had an LD.  I asked how had Harry made it so far without being screened or tested for an LD?  Dad said that mom had been working with him, supporting him, reading with and to him, which gave him enough to make it through, so far, into high school.

So we went on to discuss psychological testing as the proper method to determine if there indeed was a LD, or possibly some other reason the reading was so difficult, but I told them I'd bet most of the farm that the son was walking in the steps of the father re: his reading challenges.  I continued my LD schpiel: if Harry has an LD, the school was obligated to provide accommodations as needed or recommended from the psychologist.  For the second time dad was caught up short.  He hesitated, awkwardly - started to speak..."what about" but couldn't finish the sentence.  I wondered if he was worried about Harry's being "the SPED kid" (special ed) and assured him that there was no stigma involved, that these type of accommodations were common these days due to IDEA and that the number of IEP's out there were too numerous to count.  I stated, for emphasis as I always do when discussing these things, that IDEA is federal law (accent on "federal") assuring accommodations for LD's.  Dad was shocked.  Really?  It's law?  I assured him that indeed, it has been the law for 25 years.  Dad was even more shocked.  So I gave him the info to read on line - he said he could read slowly.

I have fair confidence that Harry's parents will get him tested.  He learns great if he can listen to the materiel, which is a great way to compensate, and while discussing that many textbooks were available to be listened to - the son perked up saying he could certainly do that!

I felt great at the end of the session, assessing, educating, advocating, but as I thought of it further, I didn't feel so great.  What remains with me was the look of shame on dad's face, followed by his shock that schools were obligated to accommodate LD's.  Kids with LD's no longer need to be ashamed like Harry's dad clearly was.  We've come a long way, I assured dad, from the time he was a kid.  And despite the great awareness about learning differences, as a colleague of mine re-frames LD's, this mom and dad didn't really know about the strides of progress that have been made.

But I wonder, where were the schools in seeing Harry's struggles?  Dad's struggles were written all over his face.  Thirty five years later, Harry's schools certainly should have noticed his difficulty reading!  How could educators have missed this over the course of so many years?  That's where the real shame lies.


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