You're 10 and in the 4th grade. You can't read and every now and then, you misspell your 4-letter name. The little bit of help you're getting isn't helping. You're going to 5th grade next year and you're scared. Scared you'll get bad grades. Scared Mom and Dad will be mad. Scared you'll be grounded and won't be able to ride your bike.
You think..."Everybody says I'm smart, but I'm really stupid and they just don't know it...yet."
You're ashamed. You're also confused and scared and frustrated and angry. You're also dyslexic.
You don't know anything about dyslexia except for the terrifying experience of it. Your dyslexia is, as yet, unknown; it's a secret. Because it's a secret, it gains power in it's silence, but there are you are, 10 years old and making searing judgments about yourself.
Then, you go see someone who meets with you many, many times and you do a lot of work...tons of it. Then, she sits down with you and pulls the secret out into the daylight. Now that your enemy has a name, you can defeat it.
You can now start talking about it, by name. You can start feeling as smart as everyone says you are. The shame runs and hides. Safe, at last.
Kids feel tremendous shame over having learning, attentional and other problems such as anxiety, that interfere with their ability to perform in the classroom. It grows. It grows into the monster known as depression. Hopelessness sets in. They begin to act out. Now, their lives are a muddy mess. Which problem do you tackle now?
I've seen this. You can't convince me it doesn't happen. It does.
When anxiety starts to percolate, do something. When they start having trouble in school, do something.
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