I struggled in school growing up due to a lack of focus.
When teachers could get me focused or interested in things I did really good- the teachers themselves Really made a difference. Like most kids, I disliked math. But I had one teacher come along who just helped me finally *get it* and I realized that specifically because my teacher the next year was very harsh and my math grade slipped again because I just couldnât engage with that teacher. Now I donât mind math as much.
Now that Iâm an adult, I find myself really good at most of the things I learned in school, specifically by way of my own interest in learning those things- and not because of being forced to learn them. It really made a difference. Some teachers really make a difference.
In university⌠my second last year, I had a course that was Full Year, and it was a big commitment, we collaborated as a class and put on a show that we made at a professional theatre. I saw them every day. We had check in meetings with our prof, and team building, and the class/show all went great.
Yet even in university I felt my focus elsewhere. I often procrastinated. Not just school but life, chores, errands. Yet, I had a really good memory for things I found interesting. Events, names of characters and details from stories and movies and gamesâŚ. People often told me I had a good memory, or they were impressed with information I knew about minor things. (Like actor names, and other trivia.)
Really, my parents pushed me to be better at this point, keeping on track with not procrastinating or letting things slip away. But since I was more interested in my courses in university, I was (in general) doing better academically.
The end of the year came around. We had our show, it went great. There was a few weeks left of school so that class devolved into minor projects and retrospection on our show. But we had one final 1 on 1 meeting with our Prof to get our end of year grade.
My teacher for this course was also our director for the show, since he worked with that theatre company. He gave good, generalized feedback about our show and projects/ but in this case he wanted to give specific feedback about our progress for the year.
I didnât really know what to expect.
So imagine, dear reader, how utterly blown away I was when he said âSo I think you might have a learning disability.â
Reader, I was floored. Flabbergasted. That feeling rose to anger as he kept speaking, and Iâll explain why. To paraphrase, he continued with saying â-I noticed that it was hard to get your attention, you would zone out and I would usually have to call your name multiple times, and when I learned that you didnât go to the learning development centre for help I realized you were probably undiagnosed, but clearly it takes a while to get your focus. When you ARE focused, you are a delight to have in the class and you do good work, but it took a bit to get you there.â
No one had ever told me this.
No one, in ~15-17 years of school, (early years probably donât count?) had ever even remotely hinted to me that I might have something that actually was preventing me from learning- let alone something I could have *literally been getting help for.*
So I was angry. Angry at 15 years of no one noticing or telling me- and angry that he told me now, at the end of the year. My time in school was nearly done and I had never even asked for help (or realized I could).
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