November – blog one – the begining
blog one – and here it goes, spell check is off!
Dyslexia? A word that is redickulas (re-dick-u-lars) for persons who have it to spell and persons who dont have it to understand!!
The dreaded glasses!
my earlyest memorie of my dyslexic rollacosta started at primary school in a little kent seaside town. So it would be fair to say that my teacher kind of got the idea that something was no right. At first I think they thought that I might just be a slow learner but after a while I think they relized something was not right. So at the age of 10 I was tested with colour fillters which were placed over some text in order to see if it made the words apear clearer. Well aparently my colour was purple, dark purple!
It would be fair to say that anyone reading this would probably think that they would just give me the filter for me to use…. Nope, the used the filter paper and turned them into a large pair of round framed glassess!! No joke I looked like a “mini me” version of Eloton John! Not only was I drawing attention for being a bit “slower” than the other kids but I was now wearing an oversized pair of purple lensed glasses! Its funny no and still makes me chuckel. Three days later, I got so frustraited, I stood on them and decided from that day on I would just wing it!
“special needs!”
As a young boy, i didnt think it could get any worse! From leaving the confort and safty of my little primary school, I was thrown into the unknown of being a very little fish into a very large secondry school tank. I knew I was a bit slower than some of my friends inrelation to reading and wrighting, so on my first day i just thought “play it cool sam, play it cool!” I entered the assembily area on that first morning, looked at all the new people and thought that there was more people in my year than there was at my entyer primary school!
I sat down and thought “Cant read, Cant wright, Cant spell – brillient!!!, im going to fit right in.
Although like an epesode of the imbertweeners I met some wicked friends who I still keep in contact with now. Anyway back to the story. So day one we were all put into forms, I was 7SG which was based in the lower school. We all resived our first time tables of lessions. I was realy into more active things and was told that the school provided 3 PE (physical eduaction) lessions a week. On looking at mine I only had 2… The afternoon wednesday slot did not say PE but clearly stated “special needs, upper school”.
I thought what the hell is “special needs”! also i hd heard about the horrors of traverling to the upperschool. A thin long path seperated the 2 schools, the chalindge was to get from one of the school to the other walking along the path with out geting nocked over off the path by the bigger kids. It was like some kind of gorntlet (gorn-ter-let) out of the old school gladiator TV program. I would like to add this happend to me but is a story for another time.
Wednesday soon came around, and the afternoon drew closer. When the pips (school bell) of the lession befor went off, all my friends went off to there PE lession and I took the gornterlet to the upper school. With freshly mudded trousers and a frustrated emotional face, I arrived at a side buliding next to the upper scool canteen. A small number of steps lead up to a blue wooded door with a big sign in the window saying “special needs class room”
I walked in and…… (the story continues in the next blog!!!!)
The blog
The aim of my blog is not to make me look like an idiot (which after reading this you are mostlikley thinking is not hard) but try to raise awarness of issues relating to dyslexia and the effects it can have on persons living with it (good and bad). For example the glassess and “special needs”storys makes me laugh because this just would not happen now (or does it…)
I guess I just want to give people an insite into my life which has been a rollacoster and given me emotional high and low points.
Anyway If you have enjoyed this and think I should keep going then please let me know.
Sam
Next month, local comedian and old school mate Mark Simmons has agreed for me to interview him about his memories of my dyslexia and about how hes doing post school. look out for next post. Look him up, he doing good!
http://marksimmons.co.uk/