Being Her Own Advocate: Growing Up with Learning Disabilities
Imagine that you are afraid of public speaking, I mean really terrified of it. And yet, had a job that required you to address large groups everyday. The people around keep saying that it will get better, that the support is in place, that you will be fine.
But you are not. It is just that sinking feeling in your gut day after day day after day.
When you have a learning disability, walking into class everyday goes beyond a struggle with the alarm clock. It is day after day of feeling like you are dumb, that you are hopeless. The struggle is constant.
Over the years we have tried tutoring and any number of therapies, this is not a post about one approach versus another. It is about learning to speak up for yourself.
In elementary school, I met with teachers, bought books, and searched for ways to help my daughter. In Junior High the district finally acknowledged that her low Math grades were the result of a disability, not a lack of trying. Once high school started, we had a 504 plan in place to that outlined accommodations for her.
For many years, she could not admit just how badly she was struggling. We knew some, of course, it was all over her face. But learning to express the frustration comes with maturity. We would have to wait … and teach.
As a mom, our natural instinct is to protect our babies. Keep them safe from harm, make their world one that is full or rainbows and happiness. When someone raises a finger against them, we go into full attack mode to defend them.
There is nothing wrong with that (well… usually) but, if I am being honest with myself, my job is to teach her the skills she needs to defend herself, to stand up for herself, and to state what she needs to be successful.
She is learning. She proactively approached her Math teacher on the first day of Senior year to explain about her disability. She attempts every problem, but will ask for me to check her work. She takes the news that some of them (or all of them) are wrong with a stiff upper lip and says, “Ok. I will try again.” She has (mostly) gotten past the days when the frustration took agonizing chunks out of her self-esteem.
Then today happened. Today her teacher was frustrated. Today she said she almost cried in class.
The mama bear in me had been poked! A plan started formulating in my head, what to say, what meetings to hold, what data I would need to bring… I almost couldn’t hear the rest of her story.
It turns out she was exploring her own ideas. She was gauging her feelings, and figuring out what she needed to say to her teacher. She had already weighed the idea of a 1:1 meeting and did not feel it was necessary at this time. She was building her own plan.
Our job as parents is to help them grow into strong, independent adults. She is getting there before my eyes. We will ALWAYS be here to support her, she know this. But she also needs to be the one in charge.
It is just a little tough to see that she doesn’t need the mama bear to defend her.
I am so proud, but I also feel the sting of tears in my eyes. The same sting all parents feel on the day when their little one heads into school without holding their hand for the first time, when they first go to sleep away camp, when they go on their first date…
I know it will all be ok. She’s totally got this.
Jen blogs about life at What Now.