Tearing Down The Wall
By Jodi Christel Becker
Written in 2000
Posted in 2016
Updated in 2026
If you are not willing to learn, no one can help you.
If you are determined to learn, no one can stop you. ~ Anonymous~
Author's Note
As a Deaf person who grew up in an oral environment, I want to clarify that the focus of this article is not on the effects of early language deprivation or the limited exposure to early language acquisition. While I fully support early language development for Deaf and hard-of-hearing children, this is a separate issue. The linguistic deprivation I experienced at home indeed affected my learning progress; I did not learn American Sign Language until college. However, the main objective of this story is to highlight my cognitive processes related to visual processing disorder and slow processing speed.
I was diagnosed with learning disabilities in visual-motor processing and visual-spatial issues, as well as slow processing speed, once in high school and once in college. Despite the language-rich environment in our home, as a Deaf parent of two Deaf children—a son and a daughter—I have observed similar patterns in my daughter, and I would like to share my story with you.
I was diagnosed with learning disabilities in visual-motor processing and visual-spatial issues, as well as slow processing speed, once in high school and once in college. Despite the language-rich environment in our home, as a Deaf parent of two Deaf children—a son and a daughter—I have observed similar patterns in my daughter, and I would like to share my story with you.
The 'Wall' Concept Is Introduced
Jodi Becker, 2021
I would like to share my experience with "Tearing Down the Wall" to help others connect with and understand the emotional barriers—such as feelings of shame or fear—that individuals with learning disabilities often build to protect themselves from frustration and failure.
After completing my master's degree at Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., in 2000, I traveled to Utah to visit my parents, who were stationed at Scott Air Force Base in Illinois. Over dinner, our conversation turned to my academic challenges. It was in this discussion that my mother introduced me to a profound concept: the "wall." She explained that I had built a wall around myself to shield myself from the frustration of learning. In that moment, I realized that I had unknowingly created an emotional barrier that hindered my ability to learn and embrace growth.
This conversation prompted me to reflect deeply during my trip to Utah as I began a new job. It was then that I started to understand why I had built this wall and how it served as a protective mechanism to avoid the difficulties of learning.
As a Deaf adult with a learning disability that includes a visual-motor processing disorder, a visual-spatial disorder, and slow processing speed, I have encountered many challenges. My well-educated hearing parents worked hard to teach me about life and to nurture my love of reading. However, my learning difficulties led me to build an emotional wall that hindered my ability to develop effective learning strategies and resilience. This wall also affected my emotional well-being, further complicating my learning journey.
Before diving into the details of my learning disability diagnosis, I want to share my educational background to illustrate how learning impacted me in various ways—mentally, emotionally, and physically. Growing up as an Air Force child, I attended different schools in both oral education and mainstream settings. I started formal schooling at the Omaha Hearing School (a Deaf oral school) in Nebraska when I was just three years old. My parents noticed that I enjoyed school thanks to the engaging, activity-based language-acquisition methods that kept me involved despite my challenges.
Two years later, I moved to the Central Institute for the Deaf (CID) in St. Louis, Missouri, where I spent nine years. Unfortunately, this marked the beginning of my disinterest in school. I faced ongoing struggles with reading, handwriting, spelling, math, and organizational skills—issues that only grew more complex over time. Despite receiving daily intensive speech and language instruction, I continued to struggle with reading, English, mathematics, history, science, and other subjects. My visual processing disorder and slow processing speed made academic life incredibly frustrating, leading me to dislike school even more. During this time, I continued to build the wall, which separated me from learning and provided a shelter from my frustrations.
After completing my master's degree at Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., in 2000, I traveled to Utah to visit my parents, who were stationed at Scott Air Force Base in Illinois. Over dinner, our conversation turned to my academic challenges. It was in this discussion that my mother introduced me to a profound concept: the "wall." She explained that I had built a wall around myself to shield myself from the frustration of learning. In that moment, I realized that I had unknowingly created an emotional barrier that hindered my ability to learn and embrace growth.
This conversation prompted me to reflect deeply during my trip to Utah as I began a new job. It was then that I started to understand why I had built this wall and how it served as a protective mechanism to avoid the difficulties of learning.
As a Deaf adult with a learning disability that includes a visual-motor processing disorder, a visual-spatial disorder, and slow processing speed, I have encountered many challenges. My well-educated hearing parents worked hard to teach me about life and to nurture my love of reading. However, my learning difficulties led me to build an emotional wall that hindered my ability to develop effective learning strategies and resilience. This wall also affected my emotional well-being, further complicating my learning journey.
Before diving into the details of my learning disability diagnosis, I want to share my educational background to illustrate how learning impacted me in various ways—mentally, emotionally, and physically. Growing up as an Air Force child, I attended different schools in both oral education and mainstream settings. I started formal schooling at the Omaha Hearing School (a Deaf oral school) in Nebraska when I was just three years old. My parents noticed that I enjoyed school thanks to the engaging, activity-based language-acquisition methods that kept me involved despite my challenges.
Two years later, I moved to the Central Institute for the Deaf (CID) in St. Louis, Missouri, where I spent nine years. Unfortunately, this marked the beginning of my disinterest in school. I faced ongoing struggles with reading, handwriting, spelling, math, and organizational skills—issues that only grew more complex over time. Despite receiving daily intensive speech and language instruction, I continued to struggle with reading, English, mathematics, history, science, and other subjects. My visual processing disorder and slow processing speed made academic life incredibly frustrating, leading me to dislike school even more. During this time, I continued to build the wall, which separated me from learning and provided a shelter from my frustrations.
Difficulty Processing the Visual Information
Word/Letter Reversal. @http://drnewmanoptometry.com
Reflecting on my academic journey, I faced numerous challenges that ultimately shaped my resilience and determination. For instance, I often found new information and symbols distracting because of my difficulty processing visual information. As a result, I tended to ignore or avoid visual tasks altogether.
My math skills were relatively poor, and I struggled to solve problems correctly. I had trouble understanding and organizing mathematical concepts, frequently missing function signs and skipping steps. I also became confused by formulas that looked visually similar. In terms of reading, excessive visual information would distract me. The words often appeared jumbled on the page, leading me to skip whole words or entire lines. At times, I would even read the same sentence over and over. Recalling visual information while reading textbooks was especially challenging, which is why I often took notes in college to help me remember what I had learned.
Reading cluttered menus and recipes proved to be another significant hurdle. I found it challenging to navigate through the mess of words and symbols to select an item from a menu. Deciphering recipe confusion was nearly impossible, and it took me an excessive amount of time to learn and differentiate among the various food options available. Following instructions in cookbooks, particularly those involving measurements, was exceptionally difficult because the information was densely packed. To grasp the instructions, I had to break them down into smaller, manageable steps. This process was highly time-consuming, and I often lacked the patience for it. These experiences contributed to my reluctance to learn to cook, despite my mother's efforts to teach me.
I also struggled with spelling familiar words with irregular spellings, such as "their/there," "recipe/receipt," and "quiet/quite." I frequently made spelling mistakes and often found myself unsure of where to place a period at the end of each sentence. While doing schoolwork or taking notes from the board, I would usually reverse or misread letters, numbers, and words. For instance, I mistakenly combined two phrases that should have been reversed, like saying "Babel of Tower" instead of "Tower of Babel."
Additionally, I had difficulty distinguishing between similar-looking letters and numbers, such as d/b, p/q, h/n, m/w, and 6/9. Following directions or instructions that required visual organization was a challenge as well. My handwriting has always been poor, making it challenging to read what I've written. I am unable to write in cursive and find it challenging to read cursive handwriting, which is why I am grateful for computers!
I could not participate in team sports like basketball, volleyball, or soccer. My visual-spatial disorder impacted not just my learning but also my spatial abilities in sports.
My math skills were relatively poor, and I struggled to solve problems correctly. I had trouble understanding and organizing mathematical concepts, frequently missing function signs and skipping steps. I also became confused by formulas that looked visually similar. In terms of reading, excessive visual information would distract me. The words often appeared jumbled on the page, leading me to skip whole words or entire lines. At times, I would even read the same sentence over and over. Recalling visual information while reading textbooks was especially challenging, which is why I often took notes in college to help me remember what I had learned.
Reading cluttered menus and recipes proved to be another significant hurdle. I found it challenging to navigate through the mess of words and symbols to select an item from a menu. Deciphering recipe confusion was nearly impossible, and it took me an excessive amount of time to learn and differentiate among the various food options available. Following instructions in cookbooks, particularly those involving measurements, was exceptionally difficult because the information was densely packed. To grasp the instructions, I had to break them down into smaller, manageable steps. This process was highly time-consuming, and I often lacked the patience for it. These experiences contributed to my reluctance to learn to cook, despite my mother's efforts to teach me.
I also struggled with spelling familiar words with irregular spellings, such as "their/there," "recipe/receipt," and "quiet/quite." I frequently made spelling mistakes and often found myself unsure of where to place a period at the end of each sentence. While doing schoolwork or taking notes from the board, I would usually reverse or misread letters, numbers, and words. For instance, I mistakenly combined two phrases that should have been reversed, like saying "Babel of Tower" instead of "Tower of Babel."
Additionally, I had difficulty distinguishing between similar-looking letters and numbers, such as d/b, p/q, h/n, m/w, and 6/9. Following directions or instructions that required visual organization was a challenge as well. My handwriting has always been poor, making it challenging to read what I've written. I am unable to write in cursive and find it challenging to read cursive handwriting, which is why I am grateful for computers!
I could not participate in team sports like basketball, volleyball, or soccer. My visual-spatial disorder impacted not just my learning but also my spatial abilities in sports.
Jodi, age 7
Confused with directions. www.ldresources.org
Growing up, I often struggled to distinguish left from right. My younger sister, Jami, whom I affectionately called "the brain and beauty," followed in my mother's footsteps to become a special education teacher. She noticed my confusion and took it upon herself to help me. One day, she asked, "Which hand do you write with?" After thinking it over, I replied, "Right." Her impactful yet straightforward response was, "Exactly."
This memory has stuck with me over the years. Whenever I faced directional challenges, I would use my writing hand to navigate to the desired location. Even now, my spouse, Duane, who comes from a Deaf family, often demonstrates the spatial positioning of objects in American Sign Language, which is uniquely structured around visual space. Whenever I feel unsure, confused, or lost, I ask him, "Left or right?" He typically responds with a sigh before providing a clear answer: "Left" or "Right."
Outside of school, I was known for getting lost frequently, as if my "compass" were broken and could never be fixed. To help me navigate more easily, Duane gifted me a GPS for Christmas, which eliminated the hassle of asking gas station attendants for directions. Even after living in Utah for five years, I still had trouble finding my way and often felt disoriented. Duane made it simple by saying the big mountain is east and the small one is west. Bingo! That clarity was all I needed!
At the age of ten, I took my first solo flight to Canada to visit my friend, Arista Hass, who had previously lived with us while attending the Central Institute for the Deaf. As an illiterate child landing at Edmonton International Airport, I found myself unable to comprehend the flight attendant's written instructions or even catch his lip movements. I smiled and nodded, hoping to mask my confusion. Once I stepped off the plane, the overwhelming environment left me disoriented. I felt frozen, unsure of where to go or how to read the signs around me. Thankfully, another flight attendant noticed my distress and kindly guided me to Arista and her parents, Peter and Helen, who were waiting for me at a distant gate. That moment was one of the most surreal experiences of my life – a true nightmare in retrospect.
Looking back, navigating my illiteracy alongside a visual processing disorder was both challenging and frightening. These struggles in my academic journey often made it difficult for me to excel in school. I would find myself clinging to the wall, trying to shield myself from the frustration of learning. My difficulty processing visual information, particularly in fast-paced environments with distractions, meant I needed additional time to grasp new concepts. It often took repeated exposure to unfamiliar situations before I could adapt and move to the next phase of learning. The journey was far from easy, but it has shaped who I am today.
This memory has stuck with me over the years. Whenever I faced directional challenges, I would use my writing hand to navigate to the desired location. Even now, my spouse, Duane, who comes from a Deaf family, often demonstrates the spatial positioning of objects in American Sign Language, which is uniquely structured around visual space. Whenever I feel unsure, confused, or lost, I ask him, "Left or right?" He typically responds with a sigh before providing a clear answer: "Left" or "Right."
Outside of school, I was known for getting lost frequently, as if my "compass" were broken and could never be fixed. To help me navigate more easily, Duane gifted me a GPS for Christmas, which eliminated the hassle of asking gas station attendants for directions. Even after living in Utah for five years, I still had trouble finding my way and often felt disoriented. Duane made it simple by saying the big mountain is east and the small one is west. Bingo! That clarity was all I needed!
At the age of ten, I took my first solo flight to Canada to visit my friend, Arista Hass, who had previously lived with us while attending the Central Institute for the Deaf. As an illiterate child landing at Edmonton International Airport, I found myself unable to comprehend the flight attendant's written instructions or even catch his lip movements. I smiled and nodded, hoping to mask my confusion. Once I stepped off the plane, the overwhelming environment left me disoriented. I felt frozen, unsure of where to go or how to read the signs around me. Thankfully, another flight attendant noticed my distress and kindly guided me to Arista and her parents, Peter and Helen, who were waiting for me at a distant gate. That moment was one of the most surreal experiences of my life – a true nightmare in retrospect.
Looking back, navigating my illiteracy alongside a visual processing disorder was both challenging and frightening. These struggles in my academic journey often made it difficult for me to excel in school. I would find myself clinging to the wall, trying to shield myself from the frustration of learning. My difficulty processing visual information, particularly in fast-paced environments with distractions, meant I needed additional time to grasp new concepts. It often took repeated exposure to unfamiliar situations before I could adapt and move to the next phase of learning. The journey was far from easy, but it has shaped who I am today.
Suspecting Learning Disability
Jami, Arista & Jodi making ice cream, 1981
From a young age, my mother, an A student with a master's degree in special education, grew increasingly concerned that I might have a learning disability when I was seven years old. Her worries stemmed from the academic challenges I faced at the Central Institute for the Deaf, including difficulties with visual perception and slow reading progress. These challenges often made me feel different and self-conscious. I struggled to keep pace in class and had trouble completing reading assignments on time, which negatively affected my confidence and sense of belonging.
I was noticeably lagging behind my peers, especially in literacy, as they advanced more quickly in their reading skills alongside their oral communication skills. This discrepancy often led to feelings of discouragement and isolation. By the time I turned ten, I had only just begun to learn how to read.
Similarly, my father, a college graduate with a master's degree and a retired Air Force Major General who sadly passed away from cancer in 2021, had an inspiring yet challenging journey of his own. Remarkably, he didn't learn to read until he was 10, with the help of a dedicated tutor who guided him. This experience led my mother to suspect that I might encounter similar challenges in my own learning.
Unlike my father, who thrived as an auditory learner despite challenges with processing speed, I encountered learning obstacles exacerbated by my hearing loss. Reading often felt daunting; I would get lost in the words and become frustrated each time I struggled to recognize and retain what I had just read. The slow processing and visual difficulties made each page feel like a maze, leaving me feeling disoriented and doubting my abilities. These emotional challenges were a significant part of my educational journey. However, they also highlighted the importance of family support, reminding me that I wasn’t alone on my path.
When I read, I had trouble recognizing variations of learned words that included past tense markers, plural markers, and capital letters. For instance, if I learned to read sight words like "walk," "house," and "the," I would not automatically recognize words such as "walked," "houses," or "The." This hindered my reading because I couldn't effectively decode the printed symbols.
In terms of writing, I faced challenges in organizing my work on paper and recalling written sequences. My processing speed was slow, so it took a long time to organize my thoughts and feelings. Writing became a time-consuming and laborious task. In college, I had to start working on papers well ahead of their official due dates. My vocabulary was extremely limited, and I struggled to retain new words, which made it difficult to memorize them. Preparing for tests was also time-consuming and exhausting, making the process of reading, writing, and vocabulary learning lengthy and challenging.
I was noticeably lagging behind my peers, especially in literacy, as they advanced more quickly in their reading skills alongside their oral communication skills. This discrepancy often led to feelings of discouragement and isolation. By the time I turned ten, I had only just begun to learn how to read.
Similarly, my father, a college graduate with a master's degree and a retired Air Force Major General who sadly passed away from cancer in 2021, had an inspiring yet challenging journey of his own. Remarkably, he didn't learn to read until he was 10, with the help of a dedicated tutor who guided him. This experience led my mother to suspect that I might encounter similar challenges in my own learning.
Unlike my father, who thrived as an auditory learner despite challenges with processing speed, I encountered learning obstacles exacerbated by my hearing loss. Reading often felt daunting; I would get lost in the words and become frustrated each time I struggled to recognize and retain what I had just read. The slow processing and visual difficulties made each page feel like a maze, leaving me feeling disoriented and doubting my abilities. These emotional challenges were a significant part of my educational journey. However, they also highlighted the importance of family support, reminding me that I wasn’t alone on my path.
When I read, I had trouble recognizing variations of learned words that included past tense markers, plural markers, and capital letters. For instance, if I learned to read sight words like "walk," "house," and "the," I would not automatically recognize words such as "walked," "houses," or "The." This hindered my reading because I couldn't effectively decode the printed symbols.
In terms of writing, I faced challenges in organizing my work on paper and recalling written sequences. My processing speed was slow, so it took a long time to organize my thoughts and feelings. Writing became a time-consuming and laborious task. In college, I had to start working on papers well ahead of their official due dates. My vocabulary was extremely limited, and I struggled to retain new words, which made it difficult to memorize them. Preparing for tests was also time-consuming and exhausting, making the process of reading, writing, and vocabulary learning lengthy and challenging.
Inspired by the "Anne of Green Gables" Book
Heather Whitestone McCallum, Miss America 1995. Source: al.com
Due to my lack of visual discrimination skills, I often struggled to notice similarities and differences between objects, especially food. For example, I had difficulty distinguishing between a zucchini and a cucumber, or a sweet potato and a yam. This challenge became apparent when I went to the grocery store and mistakenly bought the wrong vegetable. I intended to buy a zucchini but ended up bringing home a cucumber instead. Duane, my spouse, saw the mistake right away and told me about it. It was a valuable lesson: I realized I needed to read the labels rather than rely on my visual assumptions, which helped me feel more in control of my choices.
At CID, I was often pulled out of recess for extra help identifying different types of food from pictures, as I needed additional support with learning. This experience was very unpleasant, and my attitude toward school remained negative until I turned thirteen.
One weekend, I was invited to a sleepover with a friend. On Friday night, my friend and I were making popcorn, pouring soda, and getting ready to watch a movie. As we sat down to watch, we noticed Heather Whitestone McCallum, who later became Miss America in 1995, buried in the book "Anne of Green Gables" for her English class. We asked if she was ready to watch the movie. She said she was excited to read the book and couldn't wait to find out what happened next. As a typical teenager, I thought to myself, "Why would she choose to read a book on a Friday evening when she could be enjoying herself?"
Later in the spring semester, Heather approached me and asked if I wanted to watch the "Anne of Green Gables" movie with her during lunch break. I agreed to join her along with some other friends. From that moment, I fell in love with the main character, Anne Shirley, who inspired me to use my imagination and enjoy learning. This experience sparked a desire in me to further my education. However, my academic struggles had taken a toll on my self-esteem. I realized that I could no longer use the wall I had built around myself to avoid learning. To truly begin my educational journey, I needed to dismantle that wall and acquire the skills to manage my frustrations and the challenges that come with learning.
At CID, I was often pulled out of recess for extra help identifying different types of food from pictures, as I needed additional support with learning. This experience was very unpleasant, and my attitude toward school remained negative until I turned thirteen.
One weekend, I was invited to a sleepover with a friend. On Friday night, my friend and I were making popcorn, pouring soda, and getting ready to watch a movie. As we sat down to watch, we noticed Heather Whitestone McCallum, who later became Miss America in 1995, buried in the book "Anne of Green Gables" for her English class. We asked if she was ready to watch the movie. She said she was excited to read the book and couldn't wait to find out what happened next. As a typical teenager, I thought to myself, "Why would she choose to read a book on a Friday evening when she could be enjoying herself?"
Later in the spring semester, Heather approached me and asked if I wanted to watch the "Anne of Green Gables" movie with her during lunch break. I agreed to join her along with some other friends. From that moment, I fell in love with the main character, Anne Shirley, who inspired me to use my imagination and enjoy learning. This experience sparked a desire in me to further my education. However, my academic struggles had taken a toll on my self-esteem. I realized that I could no longer use the wall I had built around myself to avoid learning. To truly begin my educational journey, I needed to dismantle that wall and acquire the skills to manage my frustrations and the challenges that come with learning.
Anne of Green Gable
Paralyze Under Pressure
Jodi Becker, Blanca Gonzalez, Heather Whitestone, 1987
As the annual standardized school achievement tests approached in May 1987, just before my graduation from CID, I experienced an intense wave of anxiety. The purpose of these tests was to evaluate our academic performance, and the pressure was overwhelming. On the day of the test, I struggled to complete the timed sections, feeling paralyzed and mentally blocked by the ticking clock.
I felt embarrassed about falling behind my peers. When the teacher began collecting the papers, a deep sense of shame and self-doubt washed over me. I couldn't understand why I couldn't finish within the allotted time. Frustration and helplessness enveloped me. Gripping the wall tightly for support, I felt inadequate. When I handed in my test, I told my teacher, "I wasn't able to finish." She reassured me, saying, "It's okay. We'll figure it out." Her understanding eased my disappointment.
A few days later, the teacher arranged for me to take my tests with extra time in the assistant principal's office. This allowance for unlimited time empowered me to read the questions at my own pace and complete the tests without the overwhelming pressure of a ticking clock or the stress of feeling rushed. To my surprise, I discovered that my previous struggles were not indicative of a lack of intelligence but rather stemmed from the intense pressure of time constraints. Completing the test brought me a sense of relief instead of frustration. Shortly thereafter, I received a letter from CID notifying me that I had made significant progress on my standardized tests and would be graduating early.
Some friends were surprised that I was able to graduate early. Their doubts hurt, particularly because I often measured myself against my gifted peers who excelled academically. This experience fueled my determination to better myself and continue my education, even in the face of my feelings of inadequacy.
I felt embarrassed about falling behind my peers. When the teacher began collecting the papers, a deep sense of shame and self-doubt washed over me. I couldn't understand why I couldn't finish within the allotted time. Frustration and helplessness enveloped me. Gripping the wall tightly for support, I felt inadequate. When I handed in my test, I told my teacher, "I wasn't able to finish." She reassured me, saying, "It's okay. We'll figure it out." Her understanding eased my disappointment.
A few days later, the teacher arranged for me to take my tests with extra time in the assistant principal's office. This allowance for unlimited time empowered me to read the questions at my own pace and complete the tests without the overwhelming pressure of a ticking clock or the stress of feeling rushed. To my surprise, I discovered that my previous struggles were not indicative of a lack of intelligence but rather stemmed from the intense pressure of time constraints. Completing the test brought me a sense of relief instead of frustration. Shortly thereafter, I received a letter from CID notifying me that I had made significant progress on my standardized tests and would be graduating early.
Some friends were surprised that I was able to graduate early. Their doubts hurt, particularly because I often measured myself against my gifted peers who excelled academically. This experience fueled my determination to better myself and continue my education, even in the face of my feelings of inadequacy.
My First Time Mainstreamed
Literary Analysis. Published by Pierce Howard
After graduating from the Central Institute for the Deaf in 1987, I attended Goodwyn Junior High School in Montgomery, Alabama, for one year. I began seventh grade there and was placed in a Deaf program alongside other Deaf and hard-of-hearing students, as well as in physical education classes with hearing students. At first, I had to learn how to break down the barriers I faced. I struggled academically and put in long hours of studying. However, with the support of my teacher and parents, I was able to maintain good grades and even make the honor roll. A significant moment for me was being selected for the Miss Goodwyn Pageant, which was a life-changing experience.
I skipped eighth grade because of my age, and in 1988, my father, who was in the Air Force, was stationed at the Pentagon in Springfield, Virginia. I attended Annandale High School for my freshman and sophomore years, where I continued to face academic challenges. For the first time, I was mainstreamed during my first year, taking self-contained math and English classes. Unfortunately, I had a conflict with one of my Deaf Education teachers in these classes.
In math, I struggled with fractions, decimals, and percentages. I often had to recall basic math facts and frequently made mistakes, such as reversing numbers when copying from a textbook or the blackboard. Organizing mathematical problems and completing assignments correctly was difficult for me. To keep columns aligned in my written math assignments, I used graph paper, which helped with organization but didn't always prevent errors. I found it challenging to locate or correct simple math mistakes.
Although I received one-on-one, slow-paced instruction in English, I still struggled with reading comprehension and writing organization. I had difficulty distinguishing between look-alike words like "hat" and "hot," as well as words with similar shapes like "boy" and "dog." Despite working hard and studying for many hours, I performed poorly in some classes.
I skipped eighth grade because of my age, and in 1988, my father, who was in the Air Force, was stationed at the Pentagon in Springfield, Virginia. I attended Annandale High School for my freshman and sophomore years, where I continued to face academic challenges. For the first time, I was mainstreamed during my first year, taking self-contained math and English classes. Unfortunately, I had a conflict with one of my Deaf Education teachers in these classes.
In math, I struggled with fractions, decimals, and percentages. I often had to recall basic math facts and frequently made mistakes, such as reversing numbers when copying from a textbook or the blackboard. Organizing mathematical problems and completing assignments correctly was difficult for me. To keep columns aligned in my written math assignments, I used graph paper, which helped with organization but didn't always prevent errors. I found it challenging to locate or correct simple math mistakes.
Although I received one-on-one, slow-paced instruction in English, I still struggled with reading comprehension and writing organization. I had difficulty distinguishing between look-alike words like "hat" and "hot," as well as words with similar shapes like "boy" and "dog." Despite working hard and studying for many hours, I performed poorly in some classes.
An Official Diagnosis
At the end of the school year in 1989, I underwent a psychological evaluation and was diagnosed with a learning disability characterized by visual-motor integration disorder. The evaluation revealed a significant disparity between my ability and my achievement in math and written expression. Additionally, I exhibited functional deficits in visual-motor integration. These deficits affected my ability to accurately read instructions, which resulted in letter and digit reversals when writing or copying. The diagnosis indicated that my visual-motor integration challenges had hindered my early learning development and had a substantial impact on my academic potential.
At the time, I had never heard of this diagnosis and was reluctant to accept the report. The evaluation was conducted by a psychologist who had limited knowledge of hearing loss. I refused to follow his suggestions and felt unjustly labeled due to my academic struggles. I believed my literacy skills were delayed because of my insufficient exposure to early language and were connected to my hearing loss, rather than the result of a learning disability. Although the test results confirmed my suspicions about having a limited vocabulary, severe reading comprehension difficulties, poor writing skills, inadequate grammar, weak organization, and challenges in math, I was not ready to accept that I had a learning disability.
At the time, I had never heard of this diagnosis and was reluctant to accept the report. The evaluation was conducted by a psychologist who had limited knowledge of hearing loss. I refused to follow his suggestions and felt unjustly labeled due to my academic struggles. I believed my literacy skills were delayed because of my insufficient exposure to early language and were connected to my hearing loss, rather than the result of a learning disability. Although the test results confirmed my suspicions about having a limited vocabulary, severe reading comprehension difficulties, poor writing skills, inadequate grammar, weak organization, and challenges in math, I was not ready to accept that I had a learning disability.
Feeling Stupid and Isolated
During my sophomore year, I was assigned to resource classes for students with learning disabilities and to Deaf classes for students who are Deaf or hard of hearing. I was astonished by the students' behavior in the resource classes, particularly how they interacted with the teacher. Some of their actions were quite disrespectful.
The students did not adhere to classroom norms. During lectures, one student would often get up and look outside the window, while another would lean back and stare at the ceiling. Some students chatted during class, and others dozed off, completely oblivious to the teacher's lecture. I noticed one student, a heavy smoker, had cigarette burns on her arms and legs. She was disruptive and often interrupted the teacher. There was a clear lack of respect in the classroom, and I often felt out of place. My classmates' inattention and lack of motivation deeply affected me as a dedicated and determined student eager to learn. I experienced feelings of stupidity and isolation. At that time, I was unfamiliar with the term "learning disability," and the behavior of my classmates led me to mistakenly think they were unintelligent. I worried that their actions reflected poorly on me, making me feel as if I belonged to the same group, which I resented. My environment shaped my negative perceptions of learning disabilities in general.
I had never excelled in mathematics. In the resource class, I was taking basic math, which consisted of the same problems I had learned the previous year. I had to repeat the basic math class because I did not make enough progress, but I was allowed to complete tasks at my own pace. I struggled with fractions, decimals, and percentages, and I frequently forgot simple math facts. I relied on a calculator to solve math problems repeatedly until I got the numbers right. When copying from the textbook or the board, I often made mistakes, including frequently reversing the numbers. I had trouble organizing mathematical problems and completing my assignments accurately. To keep the columns aligned in my written math assignments, I used graph paper. It helped me manage the problems, but it did not always prevent mistakes. I struggled to identify and correct simple math errors, which was extremely discouraging and frustrating.
Additionally, I had a conflict with my teacher in my Deaf program class. She would yell at me if I didn't understand a particular topic or made a mistake. She never encouraged me or said, "Yes, you can do it." Instead, she crushed my spirit, convincing me that I would never succeed in life because of my academic difficulties. My classes were challenging, and the result was the most stressful and unhappy time of my life.
Despite these challenges, my parents' support and encouragement motivated me to pursue my education. Gradually, I regained my confidence. Even with my academic difficulties, I aspired to be as intelligent as Anne Shirley, the main character in the "Anne of Green Gables" series. Anne's love for books inspired me to appreciate them as well. Like her, I was determined to succeed in school and refused to give up—thanks in part to my Type A family. Fueled by anger, I was determined to prove that particular teacher and my CID friends wrong.
The students did not adhere to classroom norms. During lectures, one student would often get up and look outside the window, while another would lean back and stare at the ceiling. Some students chatted during class, and others dozed off, completely oblivious to the teacher's lecture. I noticed one student, a heavy smoker, had cigarette burns on her arms and legs. She was disruptive and often interrupted the teacher. There was a clear lack of respect in the classroom, and I often felt out of place. My classmates' inattention and lack of motivation deeply affected me as a dedicated and determined student eager to learn. I experienced feelings of stupidity and isolation. At that time, I was unfamiliar with the term "learning disability," and the behavior of my classmates led me to mistakenly think they were unintelligent. I worried that their actions reflected poorly on me, making me feel as if I belonged to the same group, which I resented. My environment shaped my negative perceptions of learning disabilities in general.
I had never excelled in mathematics. In the resource class, I was taking basic math, which consisted of the same problems I had learned the previous year. I had to repeat the basic math class because I did not make enough progress, but I was allowed to complete tasks at my own pace. I struggled with fractions, decimals, and percentages, and I frequently forgot simple math facts. I relied on a calculator to solve math problems repeatedly until I got the numbers right. When copying from the textbook or the board, I often made mistakes, including frequently reversing the numbers. I had trouble organizing mathematical problems and completing my assignments accurately. To keep the columns aligned in my written math assignments, I used graph paper. It helped me manage the problems, but it did not always prevent mistakes. I struggled to identify and correct simple math errors, which was extremely discouraging and frustrating.
Additionally, I had a conflict with my teacher in my Deaf program class. She would yell at me if I didn't understand a particular topic or made a mistake. She never encouraged me or said, "Yes, you can do it." Instead, she crushed my spirit, convincing me that I would never succeed in life because of my academic difficulties. My classes were challenging, and the result was the most stressful and unhappy time of my life.
Despite these challenges, my parents' support and encouragement motivated me to pursue my education. Gradually, I regained my confidence. Even with my academic difficulties, I aspired to be as intelligent as Anne Shirley, the main character in the "Anne of Green Gables" series. Anne's love for books inspired me to appreciate them as well. Like her, I was determined to succeed in school and refused to give up—thanks in part to my Type A family. Fueled by anger, I was determined to prove that particular teacher and my CID friends wrong.
My Extreme Outburst
World history was the most challenging class I took at Annandale High School. It wasn't offered in the resource class, so I had no choice but to enroll in it with regular students, and without an interpreter. When I got frustrated with a subject, I would sometimes yell or throw my book. However, my experience in world history class was different.
One night, while studying for the test with my mother's help, I couldn't understand the material no matter how diligently she tried to explain it. I became so frustrated that I couldn't take it anymore. Usually, I would cling to the wall to relieve my frustration, but that wasn't an option this time. Instead, I exploded and ripped the book. My mother, who was sitting nearby, witnessed my outburst. I expected her to feel sorry for me or to comfort me, but instead, she gave me a stern look and said, "You need to learn how to control your frustration." After that, she stormed out of the dining room, leaving me alone in the room where I usually studied. I was taken aback—I couldn't believe she was being so tough on me. Usually, she was understanding of my frustrations, but not this time.
I reflected on my mother's words and realized I often clung to the wall to cope with my frustration. She was right; it was time to dismantle that wall and find a better way to manage my emotions. I also want to thank my world history teacher for encouraging me with her note, "Follow your dreams," which she wrote on my final exam (I ended up receiving a C in this class). Thank goodness!
Despite my efforts, I continued to struggle in my classes. I didn't have an interpreter because I had not yet learned American Sign Language. My time at Annandale High School was miserable, and I have many bitter memories of it. Because of those difficult times, my emotional wall thickened again, making it even harder to tear down.
One night, while studying for the test with my mother's help, I couldn't understand the material no matter how diligently she tried to explain it. I became so frustrated that I couldn't take it anymore. Usually, I would cling to the wall to relieve my frustration, but that wasn't an option this time. Instead, I exploded and ripped the book. My mother, who was sitting nearby, witnessed my outburst. I expected her to feel sorry for me or to comfort me, but instead, she gave me a stern look and said, "You need to learn how to control your frustration." After that, she stormed out of the dining room, leaving me alone in the room where I usually studied. I was taken aback—I couldn't believe she was being so tough on me. Usually, she was understanding of my frustrations, but not this time.
I reflected on my mother's words and realized I often clung to the wall to cope with my frustration. She was right; it was time to dismantle that wall and find a better way to manage my emotions. I also want to thank my world history teacher for encouraging me with her note, "Follow your dreams," which she wrote on my final exam (I ended up receiving a C in this class). Thank goodness!
Despite my efforts, I continued to struggle in my classes. I didn't have an interpreter because I had not yet learned American Sign Language. My time at Annandale High School was miserable, and I have many bitter memories of it. Because of those difficult times, my emotional wall thickened again, making it even harder to tear down.
My Nightmares Began
In 1990, my father's transfer to Travis AFB in California led me to attend Vanden High School for my junior and senior years. To my dismay, I was initially placed in resource classes at Vanden High School. I didn't want to be a part of a learning disability program because I didn't believe I had a learning disability. My placement in resource classes shattered my dreams and paved the way for nightmares. However, my determination to succeed helped me push through the disappointment and stay focused on my goal of transferring to regular classes and furthering my education.
The remedial English class was small, with only about five students with learning disabilities. I despised feeling inadequate and stupid, and I was determined to improve and move out of this class. Eventually, I transitioned into some regular classes, including English, because I was learning faster than the other students. I recall my remedial English teacher, who, while tapping her finger to her head, said, "You are smart and do not belong in this class." Her words motivated me to keep pushing forward despite the difficulties.
As time went on, my classes began to include a sign language interpreter, and I was fortunate to have a supportive regular English teacher who helped me thrive. Despite facing numerous challenges in my regular classes, I gradually overcame many obstacles, though not completely. It wasn't an easy journey, but I started to succeed because I promised myself I would do my best.
The remedial English class was small, with only about five students with learning disabilities. I despised feeling inadequate and stupid, and I was determined to improve and move out of this class. Eventually, I transitioned into some regular classes, including English, because I was learning faster than the other students. I recall my remedial English teacher, who, while tapping her finger to her head, said, "You are smart and do not belong in this class." Her words motivated me to keep pushing forward despite the difficulties.
As time went on, my classes began to include a sign language interpreter, and I was fortunate to have a supportive regular English teacher who helped me thrive. Despite facing numerous challenges in my regular classes, I gradually overcame many obstacles, though not completely. It wasn't an easy journey, but I started to succeed because I promised myself I would do my best.
Beating the Odds
Motivated by my desire for education, I was determined to overcome every obstacle in my path. I refused to let challenges stand in the way of my goals. When frustrated, I found comfort in leaning against the wall. Despite these challenges, I worked hard to break down that wall, driven by my ambition for a strong education. Each piece I broke down represented a significant stride in my academic journey, helping to ease my frustration and reinforcing my confidence.
During my four years of high school, I never took biology, and my foreign language requirement was waived. I also did not take algebra or geometry, which left me feeling humiliated and ashamed. To cope with these feelings, I would wrap my books in a brown paper bag to avoid drawing attention. This small act helped me manage my embarrassment and seek acceptance.
I often felt embarrassed about my learning disabilites. Even after earning titles like "Snowball Queen" and "Prom Queen" in my senior year, I kept my challenges private because I wanted to control how my friends perceived me. I worked hard to appear intelligent and capable. These experiences taught me resilience in the face of criticism, as I wanted to be seen as smart. While some classmates noticed my enrollment in resource classes and attributed it to my hearing loss, I knew that my learning disabilities also a significant factor. Nevertheless, I still found it difficult to fully accept the extent of my challenges.
During my four years of high school, I never took biology, and my foreign language requirement was waived. I also did not take algebra or geometry, which left me feeling humiliated and ashamed. To cope with these feelings, I would wrap my books in a brown paper bag to avoid drawing attention. This small act helped me manage my embarrassment and seek acceptance.
I often felt embarrassed about my learning disabilites. Even after earning titles like "Snowball Queen" and "Prom Queen" in my senior year, I kept my challenges private because I wanted to control how my friends perceived me. I worked hard to appear intelligent and capable. These experiences taught me resilience in the face of criticism, as I wanted to be seen as smart. While some classmates noticed my enrollment in resource classes and attributed it to my hearing loss, I knew that my learning disabilities also a significant factor. Nevertheless, I still found it difficult to fully accept the extent of my challenges.
Jodi was the 1992 Senior Prom Queen on the left side
Unprepared for College
After graduating from high school in 1992, I enrolled at Ohlone Community College in Fremont, California. When I took Algebra I for the first time, I realized I was completely unprepared. My understanding of even the most basic algebraic expressions proved to be increasingly challenging. Due to my visual processing issues, the sight of so many math problems on the textbook pages was overwhelming. Visually organizing mathematical concepts was a challenge for me, and the sheer number of problems on a single page quickly led to confusion. The numbers and symbols appeared jumbled, making it challenging to sift through the clutter and distinguish the math problems.
I couldn't use graph paper because it added to the confusion. The individual squares were too small for me to effectively organize the mathematical problems. To demonstrate my work, I needed to solve one problem at a time. To manage the math problems, I had to distinguish between numbers and symbols and draw a line between them. This line helped me differentiate between the two, even though I was unaware of the color-coding system I later learned about through Gallaudet University's tutoring services. However, my approach did create slightly more clutter than necessary. At the time, I felt stuck in a situation where neither method seemed to work. See the following examples:
2x + 3y =
2x I + I 3y I =
I would spend hours at night completing assignments and studying for tests. When I struggled to understand the material, my Deaf friend, who was a math genius, would help me. However, there were multiple occasions when I couldn't grasp his explanations. When he showed his "shocked" expression in response to my confusion, I felt degraded. We dated for a short time, but he eventually ended things, believing I wasn't smart enough. This was extremely frustrating for me, and I often found myself in tears. Despite my best efforts, I did not pass the class.
I didn't realize that college required much more reading and writing skills until I took a college-level English course after finishing my pre-college classes. In high school, I never learned how to develop those skills. Due to my limited language exposure and visual-perception issues, I had difficulty expressing myself and organizing my writing. After weeks of struggle, and with the assistance of my Deaf friend, who excelled in English, I began to understand the rules for writing a formal paper. I quickly improved, but despite my efforts, I only received a C. At the time, I was still in denial and didn't believe I had a learning disability. My extreme frustration resurfaced, and I had to fight the urge to build a wall to preserve my motivation to learn while simultaneously learning to manage my frustration.
I couldn't use graph paper because it added to the confusion. The individual squares were too small for me to effectively organize the mathematical problems. To demonstrate my work, I needed to solve one problem at a time. To manage the math problems, I had to distinguish between numbers and symbols and draw a line between them. This line helped me differentiate between the two, even though I was unaware of the color-coding system I later learned about through Gallaudet University's tutoring services. However, my approach did create slightly more clutter than necessary. At the time, I felt stuck in a situation where neither method seemed to work. See the following examples:
2x + 3y =
2x I + I 3y I =
I would spend hours at night completing assignments and studying for tests. When I struggled to understand the material, my Deaf friend, who was a math genius, would help me. However, there were multiple occasions when I couldn't grasp his explanations. When he showed his "shocked" expression in response to my confusion, I felt degraded. We dated for a short time, but he eventually ended things, believing I wasn't smart enough. This was extremely frustrating for me, and I often found myself in tears. Despite my best efforts, I did not pass the class.
I didn't realize that college required much more reading and writing skills until I took a college-level English course after finishing my pre-college classes. In high school, I never learned how to develop those skills. Due to my limited language exposure and visual-perception issues, I had difficulty expressing myself and organizing my writing. After weeks of struggle, and with the assistance of my Deaf friend, who excelled in English, I began to understand the rules for writing a formal paper. I quickly improved, but despite my efforts, I only received a C. At the time, I was still in denial and didn't believe I had a learning disability. My extreme frustration resurfaced, and I had to fight the urge to build a wall to preserve my motivation to learn while simultaneously learning to manage my frustration.
Facing Academic Hardship at Gallaudet University
John, Jodi, Jeanne & Jami, 1997
I transferred to Gallaudet University in 1994, at the age of 21, and faced greater academic challenges. My parents were stationed with the Air Force in Seoul, Korea, at the time, and I couldn't count on their help whenever I needed it. Years of academic difficulties enabled me to become a survivor and a stronger person in the college environment. Our geographical separation also taught me to be independent and to develop my advocacy skills. Most importantly, facing academic challenges alone strengthened my determination to break down the wall. However, I continued to live in denial.
Despite repeating Algebra I, I still struggled with math. It took me hours to complete my assignments and prepare for the tests. Studying for the tests left me exhausted, and my inability to understand math frustrated me. I was up against a brick wall. I mainly received Ds on the tests, no matter how diligently I studied. The day before the final exam, we, the students, had to meet with our professor to receive our final grade. My final grade, a D+, was precisely what I expected, but I was dissatisfied with it, especially since I still had to take the final exam. I shed tears when my professor approached me and asked to review my grade. "Congratulations!" she said when I showed her my final classwork grade. "Now you must study hard for the final exam." "Thank you," I said, nodding. Why should I study hard when I mainly received Ds on my previous tests? That afternoon, I was determined to push myself by studying even harder, and I planned to celebrate even if I received a D in my math class. I enlisted the help of a math genius friend of mine. She agreed to help, so we sat down on the floor, and she began tutoring me in math. Her frustration grew as we went along because I couldn't understand her explanation. She couldn't take it any longer. She eventually ran out of patience. She slammed the book shut and threw it to the ground. "Why can't you understand math?" she asked. I burst out crying. "I don't know!" I exclaimed angrily. "Get out!" She quickly exited the room. I was crying alone in my dorm, and the exam was approaching. As soon as I calmed down, I debated whether I should study for the final exam or forget about it. "Well, I'm not a quitter, and I'm not going to fail this course again," I reasoned. So I returned to my studies. I studied for the final exam for about twenty hours. I had only gotten one hour of sleep. I barely passed Algebra I after spending twenty hours studying for the final exam. It was a tremendous relief, but I knew it wasn't the end. The next course I had to take was Algebra II.
Equally, I struggled with English and enrolled in a non-credit English course to improve my reading and writing skills before advancing to the required English courses. My English teacher was skeptical that I would pass the English Placement Test because of my reading and writing difficulties, but he was mistaken. I was successful. I also passed the Freshman Writing Exam in addition to the English Placement Test. As a result, my Ohlone College English course was transferred and waived. I began taking required English courses after passing the English Placement Test. While studying English, I gradually improved my reading comprehension and writing skills, though my progress was still slow, and I needed time to process the information I read or wrote. I realized I needed to believe in my own abilities and overcome any obstacles. Despite my academic challenges, I knew I could do it, though I was still skeptical about overcoming them.
My math struggle was about to resurface. Similar to Algebra I, I studied Algebra II endlessly for the tests, and despite the assistance of a math tutor, who was a student, I did not do well. He tried his best to help, but his explanations did not correspond to my processing or learning style. He seemed surprised that I didn't understand his explanation during tutoring. I felt somewhat embarrassed. It had to be his first time tutoring a student like me. Every time I got my math test results, I got an F. The wall around me grew even thicker, and I was unable to break it down. Despite my best efforts, I had to audit Algebra II because I was failing.
Just as I struggled with math, I found it challenging to fulfill the language requirement for my bachelor's degree. I couldn't manage taking Algebra II and a German class at the same time. I enrolled in German because I was born in Germany as an Air Force brat and had ancestors who immigrated to America from Germany. I felt a connection to the country, but I had no idea how difficult it would be to learn a foreign language until I began the course.
While comparing myself to my classmates, I realized that they were grasping the language more quickly than I was. For example, just 15 minutes before the German test, I was chatting with a friend outside the building—someone I had become close with in German class—when he rushed up to me and asked to borrow my German book to study for the test. I handed it to him, and he hurried off to study at the last minute.
When the professor handed out the tests along with the grades, my friend picked up his test paper and tilted it just enough for the light to shine through, revealing his grade to me. "What?! How did you get an A?" I asked in disbelief. "Photographic memory," he replied casually. I couldn't believe he had spent only 15 minutes studying for the exam while I had dedicated an entire week to the same material. Surprisingly, we both ended up with an "A" grade.
I couldn't understand why I was struggling so much. "This isn't a math class," I thought. "Why do I have to struggle with German as well?" As the wall grew thicker, my frustration grew, and I found myself in denial. I felt increasingly trapped. I recognized that I needed to overcome this obstacle, but I was lost when it involved navigating the academic requirements. After doing some research, I discovered that many people who struggle with math concepts often face similar challenges when learning foreign languages. This realization opened my eyes to the common struggles that many of us experience in our pursuit of learning.
Despite repeating Algebra I, I still struggled with math. It took me hours to complete my assignments and prepare for the tests. Studying for the tests left me exhausted, and my inability to understand math frustrated me. I was up against a brick wall. I mainly received Ds on the tests, no matter how diligently I studied. The day before the final exam, we, the students, had to meet with our professor to receive our final grade. My final grade, a D+, was precisely what I expected, but I was dissatisfied with it, especially since I still had to take the final exam. I shed tears when my professor approached me and asked to review my grade. "Congratulations!" she said when I showed her my final classwork grade. "Now you must study hard for the final exam." "Thank you," I said, nodding. Why should I study hard when I mainly received Ds on my previous tests? That afternoon, I was determined to push myself by studying even harder, and I planned to celebrate even if I received a D in my math class. I enlisted the help of a math genius friend of mine. She agreed to help, so we sat down on the floor, and she began tutoring me in math. Her frustration grew as we went along because I couldn't understand her explanation. She couldn't take it any longer. She eventually ran out of patience. She slammed the book shut and threw it to the ground. "Why can't you understand math?" she asked. I burst out crying. "I don't know!" I exclaimed angrily. "Get out!" She quickly exited the room. I was crying alone in my dorm, and the exam was approaching. As soon as I calmed down, I debated whether I should study for the final exam or forget about it. "Well, I'm not a quitter, and I'm not going to fail this course again," I reasoned. So I returned to my studies. I studied for the final exam for about twenty hours. I had only gotten one hour of sleep. I barely passed Algebra I after spending twenty hours studying for the final exam. It was a tremendous relief, but I knew it wasn't the end. The next course I had to take was Algebra II.
Equally, I struggled with English and enrolled in a non-credit English course to improve my reading and writing skills before advancing to the required English courses. My English teacher was skeptical that I would pass the English Placement Test because of my reading and writing difficulties, but he was mistaken. I was successful. I also passed the Freshman Writing Exam in addition to the English Placement Test. As a result, my Ohlone College English course was transferred and waived. I began taking required English courses after passing the English Placement Test. While studying English, I gradually improved my reading comprehension and writing skills, though my progress was still slow, and I needed time to process the information I read or wrote. I realized I needed to believe in my own abilities and overcome any obstacles. Despite my academic challenges, I knew I could do it, though I was still skeptical about overcoming them.
My math struggle was about to resurface. Similar to Algebra I, I studied Algebra II endlessly for the tests, and despite the assistance of a math tutor, who was a student, I did not do well. He tried his best to help, but his explanations did not correspond to my processing or learning style. He seemed surprised that I didn't understand his explanation during tutoring. I felt somewhat embarrassed. It had to be his first time tutoring a student like me. Every time I got my math test results, I got an F. The wall around me grew even thicker, and I was unable to break it down. Despite my best efforts, I had to audit Algebra II because I was failing.
Just as I struggled with math, I found it challenging to fulfill the language requirement for my bachelor's degree. I couldn't manage taking Algebra II and a German class at the same time. I enrolled in German because I was born in Germany as an Air Force brat and had ancestors who immigrated to America from Germany. I felt a connection to the country, but I had no idea how difficult it would be to learn a foreign language until I began the course.
While comparing myself to my classmates, I realized that they were grasping the language more quickly than I was. For example, just 15 minutes before the German test, I was chatting with a friend outside the building—someone I had become close with in German class—when he rushed up to me and asked to borrow my German book to study for the test. I handed it to him, and he hurried off to study at the last minute.
When the professor handed out the tests along with the grades, my friend picked up his test paper and tilted it just enough for the light to shine through, revealing his grade to me. "What?! How did you get an A?" I asked in disbelief. "Photographic memory," he replied casually. I couldn't believe he had spent only 15 minutes studying for the exam while I had dedicated an entire week to the same material. Surprisingly, we both ended up with an "A" grade.
I couldn't understand why I was struggling so much. "This isn't a math class," I thought. "Why do I have to struggle with German as well?" As the wall grew thicker, my frustration grew, and I found myself in denial. I felt increasingly trapped. I recognized that I needed to overcome this obstacle, but I was lost when it involved navigating the academic requirements. After doing some research, I discovered that many people who struggle with math concepts often face similar challenges when learning foreign languages. This realization opened my eyes to the common struggles that many of us experience in our pursuit of learning.
Another Official Diagnosis
I was filled with anger and despair. As I reflected on my academic struggles throughout my childhood, I realized that I might have a learning disability. To confirm the initial testing results, I decided to seek re-evaluation. According to Gallaudet University policy, students were required to complete their math courses within two years. I feared that if I continued to delay or failed Algebra II, I would not be able to finish my degree.
In the spring of 1995, I met with Dr. Anthony B. Wolff, a psychologist who knew sign language, after requesting a referral from Gallaudet's Office for Students with Disabilities. I felt embarrassed when Dr. Wolff came to check my progress during the assessment and discovered that I hadn't finished it yet. He glanced at his watch and left me to complete the rest on my own.
Three weeks later, the evaluation report arrived, and it was time to learn the results. As I read the report, I was astonished to find that the findings from this second evaluation were similar to those I had received at Annandale High School. My mother, who lived in South Korea at the time, informed me via email that the report indicated results identical to those from my high school assessments. It was true—I thought to myself, "Well, my high school psychologist was right after all." I do not regret undergoing the re-evaluation; I wanted to understand what the results meant for my life and the learning challenges I faced.
The evaluation revealed that I had a learning disability, including a visual-spatial disorder and a slow processing speed. This time, I accepted the fact that I had learning disabilities. The evaluation clarified my frustrations, highlighted my strengths and limitations, and provided me with strategies to focus on and enhance my academic abilities. It marked the beginning of my self-awareness. The evaluation served as a roadmap, helping me navigate college and achieve academic success. I put significant effort into improving my learning, and I never gave up on breaking down the wall I faced.
In the spring of 1995, I met with Dr. Anthony B. Wolff, a psychologist who knew sign language, after requesting a referral from Gallaudet's Office for Students with Disabilities. I felt embarrassed when Dr. Wolff came to check my progress during the assessment and discovered that I hadn't finished it yet. He glanced at his watch and left me to complete the rest on my own.
Three weeks later, the evaluation report arrived, and it was time to learn the results. As I read the report, I was astonished to find that the findings from this second evaluation were similar to those I had received at Annandale High School. My mother, who lived in South Korea at the time, informed me via email that the report indicated results identical to those from my high school assessments. It was true—I thought to myself, "Well, my high school psychologist was right after all." I do not regret undergoing the re-evaluation; I wanted to understand what the results meant for my life and the learning challenges I faced.
The evaluation revealed that I had a learning disability, including a visual-spatial disorder and a slow processing speed. This time, I accepted the fact that I had learning disabilities. The evaluation clarified my frustrations, highlighted my strengths and limitations, and provided me with strategies to focus on and enhance my academic abilities. It marked the beginning of my self-awareness. The evaluation served as a roadmap, helping me navigate college and achieve academic success. I put significant effort into improving my learning, and I never gave up on breaking down the wall I faced.
Developing Coping Strategies
Despite my diagnosis of visual processing challenges, I remained determined to excel in college. To support this goal, I requested accessibility accommodations from the Office for Students with Disabilities. A psychologist recommended that I take tests orally and allow for an extended time. Even so, I completed the written classroom tests and often found myself being the last to finish. If I hadn't been able to complete them within the allotted time, I could have utilized my testing accommodations.
As I faced academic challenges, I grew more confident in my ability to develop effective coping strategies on my own. Without formal guidance on establishing these methods, I had to navigate the process on my own. For example, since I couldn't rely solely on auditory learning, I utilized my tactile and kinesthetic skills. By writing down information and physically engaging with the material, I discovered ways to enhance my memory and understanding. This journey not only helped me overcome obstacles but also instilled in me a sense of determination and self-reliance.
When studying from textbooks, I summarized the material in my notes to prepare for tests. Tracing letters and words became part of my routine; although it was time-consuming, it proved effective.
As I transitioned to college, I had to relearn my study skills and coping strategies because what had worked in high school was no longer sufficient to meet the increased demands. As my courses became more rigorous, I focused on improving my study techniques, including writing strategies, test-taking skills, time management, and research organization. These strategies helped me keep pace academically.
To ensure that I graduate on time after transferring from Ohlone College to Gallaudet University, I registered for five courses for the spring semester to make up for lost credits. To maximize my study efficiency, I took the initiative to summarize the history textbook during the holiday break, freeing up valuable time for exam preparation. Additionally, I proactively gathered materials and prepared for my one-semester term paper for English class before the school year began. This method has prepared me for a successful semester.
While my studies dominated my life, I became highly organized, ensuring everything was in order, even planning during breaks. To-do lists were essential for me. This structure helped me navigate college. Though my learning disabilities remained a challenge, I was committed to overcoming them through the use of my study skills and coping strategies to succeed in my education.
As I faced academic challenges, I grew more confident in my ability to develop effective coping strategies on my own. Without formal guidance on establishing these methods, I had to navigate the process on my own. For example, since I couldn't rely solely on auditory learning, I utilized my tactile and kinesthetic skills. By writing down information and physically engaging with the material, I discovered ways to enhance my memory and understanding. This journey not only helped me overcome obstacles but also instilled in me a sense of determination and self-reliance.
When studying from textbooks, I summarized the material in my notes to prepare for tests. Tracing letters and words became part of my routine; although it was time-consuming, it proved effective.
As I transitioned to college, I had to relearn my study skills and coping strategies because what had worked in high school was no longer sufficient to meet the increased demands. As my courses became more rigorous, I focused on improving my study techniques, including writing strategies, test-taking skills, time management, and research organization. These strategies helped me keep pace academically.
To ensure that I graduate on time after transferring from Ohlone College to Gallaudet University, I registered for five courses for the spring semester to make up for lost credits. To maximize my study efficiency, I took the initiative to summarize the history textbook during the holiday break, freeing up valuable time for exam preparation. Additionally, I proactively gathered materials and prepared for my one-semester term paper for English class before the school year began. This method has prepared me for a successful semester.
While my studies dominated my life, I became highly organized, ensuring everything was in order, even planning during breaks. To-do lists were essential for me. This structure helped me navigate college. Though my learning disabilities remained a challenge, I was committed to overcoming them through the use of my study skills and coping strategies to succeed in my education.
Slow Processing Speed
Before starting college in the fall of 1995, I knew I had to overcome my anxiety about taking the general education requirements. To manage my frustration in certain classes, I developed coping strategies. As I reviewed the curriculum, my first thought was to cope by balancing lighter and heavier course loads from semester to semester. Additionally, I opted to take challenging or less interesting courses during summer school. Following that, I enrolled in two classes per summer semester, with one course per three-week session, to ensure I would graduate on time.
There was one summer course in particular that I will never forget: biology. I had never taken a science class in high school, and I signed up for this course with my roommate, Kim. When I saw how quickly Kim studied, I was astounded by my own slow processing speed. We would typically study together the night before a test, starting around 6:00 p.m. By 11:00 p.m., Kim had finished her reading and was getting ready for bed. I asked her if she was done studying. "Yes," she replied. "How about you?" I responded, "No, I need to study more." "OK, good night," she said, nodding as she jumped into bed.
I turned back to my book, feeling taken aback. I couldn't believe how far behind I was. Kim had managed to complete all four chapters in just four hours, while I was still only at chapter two, with two more chapters to go! The night was getting late, but I chose to continue studying until around 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. Kim and I woke up at 6:00 a.m. to review our notes before the test. In the end, we both received the same grade—a B! Whether I liked it or not, I realized I had to study longer than my peers to keep up.
There was one summer course in particular that I will never forget: biology. I had never taken a science class in high school, and I signed up for this course with my roommate, Kim. When I saw how quickly Kim studied, I was astounded by my own slow processing speed. We would typically study together the night before a test, starting around 6:00 p.m. By 11:00 p.m., Kim had finished her reading and was getting ready for bed. I asked her if she was done studying. "Yes," she replied. "How about you?" I responded, "No, I need to study more." "OK, good night," she said, nodding as she jumped into bed.
I turned back to my book, feeling taken aback. I couldn't believe how far behind I was. Kim had managed to complete all four chapters in just four hours, while I was still only at chapter two, with two more chapters to go! The night was getting late, but I chose to continue studying until around 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. Kim and I woke up at 6:00 a.m. to review our notes before the test. In the end, we both received the same grade—a B! Whether I liked it or not, I realized I had to study longer than my peers to keep up.
Using the Color Code System
Jodi Becker & Linda Williams
A trial Algebra II class was created in collaboration with Dr. Stephen F. Weiner, Dean of Student Affairs and Academic Support; the Office for Students with Disabilities; and the Mathematics Department. This one-year course was designed for students with learning disabilities. I enrolled in this class, and the pace of instruction was slower. Linda Williams, a full-time tutor specialist, was also assigned to me. She used the color-code system as one of her techniques. As I went through the steps, she used it to organize the complex math problems. I was amazed for the first time in years to finally be able to decipher the numbers and symbols. I didn't have to separate the numbers and symbols by drawing lines between them. See the following example:
2x + 3y=
Color-coding helped me pass this course with a C. One day in the hall, I ran into my math professor, Jean Schickel. She mentioned that this class was no longer offered and that many students struggled with math in their regular classes. The Math Department decided to discontinue teaching this course for various reasons. Like other postsecondary institutions, Gallaudet University eventually offered qualified students a substitute for a math course. However, this option was not available to me until I enrolled in Gallaudet's graduate program. To summarize, Ms. Schickel stated that I was extremely fortunate to have taken this class when I did; otherwise, I would not have been able to graduate.
As a social work major, I was required to take a statistics course, which I could not avoid. I understood the concepts during the lectures, but I struggled with the assignments due to the reversal of numbers. To assist me in passing the course, the Social Work Department assigned Professor Robert B. Weinstock from Gallaudet to tutor me weekly. As expected, I performed poorly on the statistics tests, but I managed to pass the class thanks to the strength of my research papers.
2x + 3y=
Color-coding helped me pass this course with a C. One day in the hall, I ran into my math professor, Jean Schickel. She mentioned that this class was no longer offered and that many students struggled with math in their regular classes. The Math Department decided to discontinue teaching this course for various reasons. Like other postsecondary institutions, Gallaudet University eventually offered qualified students a substitute for a math course. However, this option was not available to me until I enrolled in Gallaudet's graduate program. To summarize, Ms. Schickel stated that I was extremely fortunate to have taken this class when I did; otherwise, I would not have been able to graduate.
As a social work major, I was required to take a statistics course, which I could not avoid. I understood the concepts during the lectures, but I struggled with the assignments due to the reversal of numbers. To assist me in passing the course, the Social Work Department assigned Professor Robert B. Weinstock from Gallaudet to tutor me weekly. As expected, I performed poorly on the statistics tests, but I managed to pass the class thanks to the strength of my research papers.
Receiving a Social Work Professional Development Award
Jodi Becker & Charlotte Kaldani, 1998
During my senior year at Gallaudet University, I received a Social Work Professional Development Award. The Social Work Department was impressed with my ability to plan ahead for writing assignments and to ask my professors for clarification before the actual due dates. Unlike most of my friends, I needed to write my papers in advance, a little at a time. If I didn't, I would experience mental blocks and feel paralyzed at the thought of writing them at the last minute. Although the Social Work Department required numerous term papers, I performed better when I wasn't under stress or pressure. I often joke that I'm like a turtle compared to a rabbit, but in the end, we both reach the finish line.
My roommate at Gallaudet, Charlotte Kaldani Simoes, was a math genius majoring in accounting. She would often chuckle when I brought library books to our dorm right after an assignment due date was announced and began working on my paper. Her dedication to her studies made her an ideal roommate for me. We had an excellent study system. Even with the wall still standing, I continued to plan ahead for paper due dates, exams, and assignment deadlines throughout my college career because I was afraid of failing.
In my Algebra II class for students with learning disabilities, I once asked Charlotte about a math problem, and I felt embarrassed when she was surprised to find that I had five homework questions. While I typically took an hour to complete my homework, regular students could finish 20–30 questions in about the same amount of time. I used color coding when working on my assignments. This disparity made me realize my struggles with math, but it also motivated me to seek help and discover strategies that worked for me. I became determined to tackle complex problems and learned to advocate for my needs in class, even getting a specialized math tutor.
My roommate at Gallaudet, Charlotte Kaldani Simoes, was a math genius majoring in accounting. She would often chuckle when I brought library books to our dorm right after an assignment due date was announced and began working on my paper. Her dedication to her studies made her an ideal roommate for me. We had an excellent study system. Even with the wall still standing, I continued to plan ahead for paper due dates, exams, and assignment deadlines throughout my college career because I was afraid of failing.
In my Algebra II class for students with learning disabilities, I once asked Charlotte about a math problem, and I felt embarrassed when she was surprised to find that I had five homework questions. While I typically took an hour to complete my homework, regular students could finish 20–30 questions in about the same amount of time. I used color coding when working on my assignments. This disparity made me realize my struggles with math, but it also motivated me to seek help and discover strategies that worked for me. I became determined to tackle complex problems and learned to advocate for my needs in class, even getting a specialized math tutor.
Graduating Cum Laude
Over the last four years, I performed well in most of my classes. During the graduation rehearsal, it was announced that I had been named to the Cum Laude list. What?! I never imagined this would happen in a million years! Although I had previously made the Dean's List, I did not expect to receive the highest honors. I was only focused on doing my best. Concerned it might be a mistake, I sought confirmation from the academic advisor who made the announcement. "No, it's not a mistake," she said, pointing to my name on the list.
In 1998, I received my Bachelor of Science degree in social work from Gallaudet University. After six years of study, it felt great to finally graduate. However, I still thought that the challenges I faced were not completely over, and the battle was far from finished.
In 1998, I received my Bachelor of Science degree in social work from Gallaudet University. After six years of study, it felt great to finally graduate. However, I still thought that the challenges I faced were not completely over, and the battle was far from finished.
Jodi's 1998 Gallaudet Graduation
Nose Buried in Books and Writing Papers
Duane & Jodi, 1998
Shortly after graduating from Gallaudet University, I took a bold step by enrolling in Gallaudet's Graduate School of Social Work to further my education and prepare for the competitive job market ahead. A master's degree is necessary for most counseling positions, and I knew it would require dedication. Despite advice to choose the four-year track due to workload concerns, I committed to the intensive two-year program, driven by my ambition and determination.
Graduate school has been a challenging journey, filled with long hours of studying and writing. Unlike my lively college days, this experience has required me to focus intently on my studies while managing tight deadlines and tackling complex concepts with very little social life. I was determined to keep up with the academic demands and navigate the whirlwind of assignments and learning. I am particularly grateful for my partner, Duane, who recently graduated from Gallaudet. His support has been essential, as he has taken on responsibilities such as running errands, cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry. This support has allowed me to concentrate fully on my studies and excel academically.
To gain a better understanding of learning disabilities, I enrolled in a course at American University taught by Professor Sally L. Smith, the founder of the Lab School of Washington for students with learning disabilities and a national leader in the field. For the first time in years, I realized why I often felt so tired. I had long suspected that something was wrong with my health, such as low iron levels, but after numerous doctor visits, I was declared completely healthy. My mother believed my fatigue was due to the mental effort required to process visual material. I was skeptical of her theory. However, when I came across Sally's book, I learned that students with learning disabilities often feel fatigued due to the mental effort required to interpret visual information. This realization confirmed my mother's insight, which I had previously dismissed.
During my first year of graduate school, I faced significant challenges. I passed the qualification examination at the end of the year, but I struggled in a required audiology class, earning a C+ when I needed a B or higher, which meant I had to repeat the course. I was devastated and felt like it was the end of the world.
Graduate school has been a challenging journey, filled with long hours of studying and writing. Unlike my lively college days, this experience has required me to focus intently on my studies while managing tight deadlines and tackling complex concepts with very little social life. I was determined to keep up with the academic demands and navigate the whirlwind of assignments and learning. I am particularly grateful for my partner, Duane, who recently graduated from Gallaudet. His support has been essential, as he has taken on responsibilities such as running errands, cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry. This support has allowed me to concentrate fully on my studies and excel academically.
To gain a better understanding of learning disabilities, I enrolled in a course at American University taught by Professor Sally L. Smith, the founder of the Lab School of Washington for students with learning disabilities and a national leader in the field. For the first time in years, I realized why I often felt so tired. I had long suspected that something was wrong with my health, such as low iron levels, but after numerous doctor visits, I was declared completely healthy. My mother believed my fatigue was due to the mental effort required to process visual material. I was skeptical of her theory. However, when I came across Sally's book, I learned that students with learning disabilities often feel fatigued due to the mental effort required to interpret visual information. This realization confirmed my mother's insight, which I had previously dismissed.
During my first year of graduate school, I faced significant challenges. I passed the qualification examination at the end of the year, but I struggled in a required audiology class, earning a C+ when I needed a B or higher, which meant I had to repeat the course. I was devastated and felt like it was the end of the world.
Knocking Down the Wall
During my second year of graduate school, I took additional courses to ensure I graduated on time. Initially, I was unsure about my ability to manage a heavier course load, as I had taken only four courses per semester during my first three years in the social work program (two years as an undergraduate and one year as a graduate student). This pace had previously aligned with my limitations, and I feared failing again—I couldn't bear the thought, especially since I was so close to finishing my degree. Nonetheless, I wasn't ready to give up, which helped keep me motivated despite the challenges.
By the end of my second year in graduate school, I was thrilled to have a complete understanding of the material. Despite my slower processing speed, my learning and thinking processes became clearer and more efficient than ever. My dedicated summer reading efforts paid off, leading to noticeable improvements in my reading and writing skills. I passed all my classes, including one I had to retake, which felt like a major achievement. Not having to study math or statistics during my second year was a much-appreciated relief.
After years of navigating academic challenges, I finally torn down the wall that had been holding me back—it's finally gone! I realized that perseverance leads to growth, and I want others to understand that persistence can help overcome obstacles. For the first time in ages, I genuinely enjoyed learning. Over the course of eight years in college, I tirelessly worked to chip away at the wall until I finally succeeded. This breakthrough not only changed my outlook but also transformed me from a carefree, outgoing person into someone more focused and determined. It allowed me to fully embrace my passion for learning. I wholeheartedly embraced my identity as an introvert and flourished in this exciting new chapter of my educational journey, including the Utah Deaf History project I'm currently working on.
I completed my master's degree in social work in May 2000. Ironically, my English term paper titled "How Do College Students with Learning Disabilities Overcome Academic Obstacles and What Kind of Services and Programs Should Colleges and Universities Provide?" inspired me to major in social work and pursue a career as an accessibility advisor at Salt Lake Community College's Disability Resource Center. I wouldn't be who I am today without the influence of the "Anne of Green Gables" books and videos, which I read during my first year at Gallaudet University.
Accepting my learning disabilities and tearing down the wall I had built around myself has been a transformative journey. Although I face challenges with visual processing and speed, I have developed effective strategies to manage these difficulties. This has increased my self-awareness and acceptance of my unique learning style.
I now view my struggle with visual information as a powerful opportunity for growth. Instead of avoiding visual tasks, I have embraced the challenge, fully committing to understanding and mastering them. This proactive attitude has not only enhanced my learning experience but also significantly boosted my confidence in tackling complex concepts. I now see every challenge as a stepping stone to my continued success.
Looking back, I believe that using Irlen color technology and large-print textbooks in secondary and postsecondary institutions would have benefited me. Additionally, if I could hear, I would likely use different information-processing methods, such as audiobooks (e.g., Kurzweil) for reading or voice recognition software (e.g., Voice Dictation) when writing papers. Relying on my auditory sense to access and process information would have saved me significant time by reducing the hours spent reading, writing textbook summaries, and completing assignments. Nonetheless, my hearing loss and visual processing issues presented double barriers to my college success.
According to the article 'Deaf Education: A New Philosophy,' research shows that Deaf individuals typically have better visual-spatial memory than their hearing peers (Livadas, The Endeavor, Winter 2011). However, I clearly do not fit into that category!
The more I learn about learning disabilities, the more empowered I feel. There is nothing wrong with having a learning disability. Many famous and successful individuals, including Tom Cruise, Keira Knightley, Whoopi Goldberg, Steven Spielberg, Anderson Cooper, Jay Leno, and Vince Vaughn, have also faced learning disabilities.
By the end of my second year in graduate school, I was thrilled to have a complete understanding of the material. Despite my slower processing speed, my learning and thinking processes became clearer and more efficient than ever. My dedicated summer reading efforts paid off, leading to noticeable improvements in my reading and writing skills. I passed all my classes, including one I had to retake, which felt like a major achievement. Not having to study math or statistics during my second year was a much-appreciated relief.
After years of navigating academic challenges, I finally torn down the wall that had been holding me back—it's finally gone! I realized that perseverance leads to growth, and I want others to understand that persistence can help overcome obstacles. For the first time in ages, I genuinely enjoyed learning. Over the course of eight years in college, I tirelessly worked to chip away at the wall until I finally succeeded. This breakthrough not only changed my outlook but also transformed me from a carefree, outgoing person into someone more focused and determined. It allowed me to fully embrace my passion for learning. I wholeheartedly embraced my identity as an introvert and flourished in this exciting new chapter of my educational journey, including the Utah Deaf History project I'm currently working on.
I completed my master's degree in social work in May 2000. Ironically, my English term paper titled "How Do College Students with Learning Disabilities Overcome Academic Obstacles and What Kind of Services and Programs Should Colleges and Universities Provide?" inspired me to major in social work and pursue a career as an accessibility advisor at Salt Lake Community College's Disability Resource Center. I wouldn't be who I am today without the influence of the "Anne of Green Gables" books and videos, which I read during my first year at Gallaudet University.
Accepting my learning disabilities and tearing down the wall I had built around myself has been a transformative journey. Although I face challenges with visual processing and speed, I have developed effective strategies to manage these difficulties. This has increased my self-awareness and acceptance of my unique learning style.
I now view my struggle with visual information as a powerful opportunity for growth. Instead of avoiding visual tasks, I have embraced the challenge, fully committing to understanding and mastering them. This proactive attitude has not only enhanced my learning experience but also significantly boosted my confidence in tackling complex concepts. I now see every challenge as a stepping stone to my continued success.
Looking back, I believe that using Irlen color technology and large-print textbooks in secondary and postsecondary institutions would have benefited me. Additionally, if I could hear, I would likely use different information-processing methods, such as audiobooks (e.g., Kurzweil) for reading or voice recognition software (e.g., Voice Dictation) when writing papers. Relying on my auditory sense to access and process information would have saved me significant time by reducing the hours spent reading, writing textbook summaries, and completing assignments. Nonetheless, my hearing loss and visual processing issues presented double barriers to my college success.
According to the article 'Deaf Education: A New Philosophy,' research shows that Deaf individuals typically have better visual-spatial memory than their hearing peers (Livadas, The Endeavor, Winter 2011). However, I clearly do not fit into that category!
The more I learn about learning disabilities, the more empowered I feel. There is nothing wrong with having a learning disability. Many famous and successful individuals, including Tom Cruise, Keira Knightley, Whoopi Goldberg, Steven Spielberg, Anderson Cooper, Jay Leno, and Vince Vaughn, have also faced learning disabilities.
Affecting My Aspects of Life as an Adult
Over the years, I've learned to cope with my learning disabilities by breaking down barriers, but my challenges have impacted not only my education but every aspect of my adult life. For example, balancing a checkbook is difficult for me (thankfully, online banking has made the process easier!), and reading maps can be a challenge. I always carry my GPS with me to ensure I don't get lost. I often forget where I parked my car, lacking the skills to find it after leaving it in a specific location. Tired of losing my car and wandering around parking lots, I now choose to park in front of an entrance, even if it's a long distance away. This strategy helps me keep track of my vehicle.
As a self-taught reader, I enjoy romance, history, and biographies. However, I can be particular about the author's writing style and font size; if I don't like it, I won't read the book. I tend not to enjoy books with heavy descriptions, like adventure or fantasy novels, as I find them distracting. Some words, such as "fascinating" and "enthusiasm," pose spelling challenges for me. Even if tools like Google or Microsoft Word can't help, I keep a list of words I struggle with for future reference.
My handwriting is another significant challenge. Because of my visual-spatial processing disorder, I often struggle to keep my writing legible and straight. I never mastered cursive writing, and I usually find it difficult to read cursive as well. My signature feels awkward and inconsistent. As a Deaf person who communicates through written notes, it's challenging to ensure my handwriting clearly conveys my intent, whether ordering food or speaking with a neighbor. I avoid writing by hand whenever possible, preferring to use a word processor, email, text, or notes on my iPhone. Writing a card can be draining, so I'm grateful for e-cards!
In my 30s, my doctor advised me to limit my salt intake after diagnosing Meniere's disease. At the time, I didn't know how to cook and relied heavily on unhealthy, processed foods. To manage my symptoms, I had to learn how to read cookbooks, recognize fruits and vegetables, and organize my shopping list. As a working mother, learning to cook from scratch felt overwhelming. I didn't choose this journey, but I had to learn to prepare healthy meals. It took time and practice, but after years, I finally learned to follow cookbook instructions. While I eat well now, I'm not a great cook. This journey reflects the challenges and rewards of acquiring new skills for better health.
Navigating through life's challenges has taught me the importance of simplicity in both my home and work environments. I've realized that maintaining clean, organized, and clutter-free spaces is essential for my well-being. Due to my visual perception issues, I am particularly sensitive to what the Deaf community refers to as "visual noise." When my surroundings are chaotic, I struggle to focus and process information effectively. This internal battle with disorder, as highlighted by Sally L. Smith in her insightful book, motivates me to keep my space tidy and well-arranged. This practice not only clears my mind but also enhances my cognitive abilities. However, my pursuit of order can sometimes frustrate my family and hinder my ability to appreciate the small joys in life. Balancing order with spontaneity remains an ongoing journey for me, and I am committed to finding that harmony.
Overall, these strategies have empowered me to become a productive member of society and a capable, independent adult, both personally and financially. This newfound independence has empowered me to pursue my passions and make a positive contribution to my community.
As a self-taught reader, I enjoy romance, history, and biographies. However, I can be particular about the author's writing style and font size; if I don't like it, I won't read the book. I tend not to enjoy books with heavy descriptions, like adventure or fantasy novels, as I find them distracting. Some words, such as "fascinating" and "enthusiasm," pose spelling challenges for me. Even if tools like Google or Microsoft Word can't help, I keep a list of words I struggle with for future reference.
My handwriting is another significant challenge. Because of my visual-spatial processing disorder, I often struggle to keep my writing legible and straight. I never mastered cursive writing, and I usually find it difficult to read cursive as well. My signature feels awkward and inconsistent. As a Deaf person who communicates through written notes, it's challenging to ensure my handwriting clearly conveys my intent, whether ordering food or speaking with a neighbor. I avoid writing by hand whenever possible, preferring to use a word processor, email, text, or notes on my iPhone. Writing a card can be draining, so I'm grateful for e-cards!
In my 30s, my doctor advised me to limit my salt intake after diagnosing Meniere's disease. At the time, I didn't know how to cook and relied heavily on unhealthy, processed foods. To manage my symptoms, I had to learn how to read cookbooks, recognize fruits and vegetables, and organize my shopping list. As a working mother, learning to cook from scratch felt overwhelming. I didn't choose this journey, but I had to learn to prepare healthy meals. It took time and practice, but after years, I finally learned to follow cookbook instructions. While I eat well now, I'm not a great cook. This journey reflects the challenges and rewards of acquiring new skills for better health.
Navigating through life's challenges has taught me the importance of simplicity in both my home and work environments. I've realized that maintaining clean, organized, and clutter-free spaces is essential for my well-being. Due to my visual perception issues, I am particularly sensitive to what the Deaf community refers to as "visual noise." When my surroundings are chaotic, I struggle to focus and process information effectively. This internal battle with disorder, as highlighted by Sally L. Smith in her insightful book, motivates me to keep my space tidy and well-arranged. This practice not only clears my mind but also enhances my cognitive abilities. However, my pursuit of order can sometimes frustrate my family and hinder my ability to appreciate the small joys in life. Balancing order with spontaneity remains an ongoing journey for me, and I am committed to finding that harmony.
Overall, these strategies have empowered me to become a productive member of society and a capable, independent adult, both personally and financially. This newfound independence has empowered me to pursue my passions and make a positive contribution to my community.
Selecting an Evaluator for Diagnosis
Lastly, if you are Deaf or hard-of-hearing and suspect that you have a learning disability, it's essential to choose an evaluator who is familiar with Deaf issues and proficient in sign language for the diagnosis. My high school psychologist was one such rare professional; this is not common. If you cannot find an evaluator who meets these criteria, an interpreter should be provided. It's critical that evaluators do not misdiagnose Deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals with learning disabilities, as these individuals are increasingly being diagnosed inappropriately. They must receive appropriate services to help them progress in their education through reasonable accommodations.
For one of the graduate courses I took, I wrote a paper titled "What challenges do evaluators face when diagnosing Deaf and hard-of-hearing students for learning disabilities?" According to Public Law 94-142, the definition of learning disabilities is not appropriate for Deaf and hard-of-hearing students for two main reasons. First, due to their hearing loss, Deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals cannot be classified as having learning disabilities. Furthermore, this law does not extend to individuals with impairments primarily based on visual, hearing, or other sensory issues, meaning they would not qualify as having learning disabilities. The second reason involves determining whether language deficits result from hearing loss or an actual learning disability.
However, I respectfully disagree with this interpretation. Despite the flaws in the "legal" definition of learning disabilities, Deaf and hard-of-hearing students who have identified learning disabilities should be classified as such by qualified professionals. I am convinced that there are Deaf and hard-of-hearing students with learning disabilities. As stated by Sabatino (1983), "There are no hearing-impaired, learning-disabled children in the world—such a rule is so stupid that it goes against the facts" (p. 26). Consequently, these students should be classified as having learning disabilities and should receive appropriate support from secondary and postsecondary institutions. After all, I am living proof of this situation.
As I mentioned earlier, having a learning disability is a lifelong condition. I wholeheartedly agree with the study that highlights essential attributes for success: self-awareness, proactivity, perseverance, goal-setting, utilizing support systems, and employing effective coping strategies (Raskind & Goldberg, 2005). Recognizing the significance of support systems can help individuals feel valued and understood, which can fuel their motivation to keep moving forward.
Since my diagnosis of learning disabilities in 1995, I have experienced firsthand how developing certain qualities has empowered me to thrive throughout my college career. In short, achieving success in school requires a positive attitude, steadfast dedication, and resourcefulness. Support systems such as accessibility services, tutoring centers, and executive function assistance (though this support was not available during my college years) are vital, as they provide essential tools for success. Without these resources, I doubt I would have successfully navigated high school, let alone excelled in college. Individuals with learning disabilities can achieve remarkable accomplishments when driven by determination and inspired by these key attributes.
Although life is not always fair, building confidence involves stepping out of your comfort zone, embracing your strengths, and learning from both successes and failures. Whenever I would disappointingly tell my mother my grade—like a B or C—despite my hours of study, she would say, "You did your best. That's all that matters." Believing in yourself and recognizing your potential for growth can help you feel more confident and motivated to pursue opportunities that showcase your abilities. Confidence isn't about being perfect; it's about believing in your own abilities. Most importantly, empower yourself to advocate for your needs in college, because self-advocacy is key to overcoming challenges and achieving your goals.
In closing, I hope my story, "Tearing Down the Wall," provides readers with a new perspective on learning disabilities and inspires anyone striving for success in education. Thank you for taking the time to read my story; I hope you enjoyed it.
For one of the graduate courses I took, I wrote a paper titled "What challenges do evaluators face when diagnosing Deaf and hard-of-hearing students for learning disabilities?" According to Public Law 94-142, the definition of learning disabilities is not appropriate for Deaf and hard-of-hearing students for two main reasons. First, due to their hearing loss, Deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals cannot be classified as having learning disabilities. Furthermore, this law does not extend to individuals with impairments primarily based on visual, hearing, or other sensory issues, meaning they would not qualify as having learning disabilities. The second reason involves determining whether language deficits result from hearing loss or an actual learning disability.
However, I respectfully disagree with this interpretation. Despite the flaws in the "legal" definition of learning disabilities, Deaf and hard-of-hearing students who have identified learning disabilities should be classified as such by qualified professionals. I am convinced that there are Deaf and hard-of-hearing students with learning disabilities. As stated by Sabatino (1983), "There are no hearing-impaired, learning-disabled children in the world—such a rule is so stupid that it goes against the facts" (p. 26). Consequently, these students should be classified as having learning disabilities and should receive appropriate support from secondary and postsecondary institutions. After all, I am living proof of this situation.
As I mentioned earlier, having a learning disability is a lifelong condition. I wholeheartedly agree with the study that highlights essential attributes for success: self-awareness, proactivity, perseverance, goal-setting, utilizing support systems, and employing effective coping strategies (Raskind & Goldberg, 2005). Recognizing the significance of support systems can help individuals feel valued and understood, which can fuel their motivation to keep moving forward.
Since my diagnosis of learning disabilities in 1995, I have experienced firsthand how developing certain qualities has empowered me to thrive throughout my college career. In short, achieving success in school requires a positive attitude, steadfast dedication, and resourcefulness. Support systems such as accessibility services, tutoring centers, and executive function assistance (though this support was not available during my college years) are vital, as they provide essential tools for success. Without these resources, I doubt I would have successfully navigated high school, let alone excelled in college. Individuals with learning disabilities can achieve remarkable accomplishments when driven by determination and inspired by these key attributes.
Although life is not always fair, building confidence involves stepping out of your comfort zone, embracing your strengths, and learning from both successes and failures. Whenever I would disappointingly tell my mother my grade—like a B or C—despite my hours of study, she would say, "You did your best. That's all that matters." Believing in yourself and recognizing your potential for growth can help you feel more confident and motivated to pursue opportunities that showcase your abilities. Confidence isn't about being perfect; it's about believing in your own abilities. Most importantly, empower yourself to advocate for your needs in college, because self-advocacy is key to overcoming challenges and achieving your goals.
In closing, I hope my story, "Tearing Down the Wall," provides readers with a new perspective on learning disabilities and inspires anyone striving for success in education. Thank you for taking the time to read my story; I hope you enjoyed it.
Turn Inspiration into Impact
John David Becker
I would like to honor my father, John David Becker, by sharing a poem titled "Winner," written by an unknown author. This popular motivational verse circulated widely in the 20th century and inspired him to succeed in both his academic and career endeavors. As a young boy, his father, who had a photographic memory and skipped kindergarten, gave him this poem, hoping it would empower him to overcome his learning challenges. Similarly, "Anne of Green Gables" inspired my own academic journey and pursuit of a college education.
I encourage you to discover something that ignites your passion and drives you to succeed in life—whether it's a quote, a poem, a book, a documentary, or a movie. Discovering that spark can transform your perspective and motivate you to overcome obstacles. Embrace the stories and experiences that resonate with you, as they can provide the encouragement you need to reach your goals.
These narratives often remind us that perseverance and dedication can lead to remarkable achievements. By surrounding yourself with inspiring influences, you will develop a mindset that drives you forward, even when facing challenges.
I encourage you to discover something that ignites your passion and drives you to succeed in life—whether it's a quote, a poem, a book, a documentary, or a movie. Discovering that spark can transform your perspective and motivate you to overcome obstacles. Embrace the stories and experiences that resonate with you, as they can provide the encouragement you need to reach your goals.
These narratives often remind us that perseverance and dedication can lead to remarkable achievements. By surrounding yourself with inspiring influences, you will develop a mindset that drives you forward, even when facing challenges.
Winner
The man who wins is an average man,
Not built on any peculiar plan,
Not blest with any peculiar luck,
Just steady and earnest and full of pluck.
When asked a question he does not guess,
He knows and answers "No" and "Yes,"
When set a task, the rest can't do,
He buckles down and sees it through.
So he works and waits 'till one fine day,
There's a better job with higher pay,
And the men who shirked wherever they could,
Are bossed by the man whose work made good.
For the man who wins is the man who works,
Who neither labor or trouble shirks,
Who uses his hands, his head, his eyes,
For the man who wins is the man who tries.
The man who wins is an average man,
Not built on any peculiar plan,
Not blest with any peculiar luck,
Just steady and earnest and full of pluck.
When asked a question he does not guess,
He knows and answers "No" and "Yes,"
When set a task, the rest can't do,
He buckles down and sees it through.
So he works and waits 'till one fine day,
There's a better job with higher pay,
And the men who shirked wherever they could,
Are bossed by the man whose work made good.
For the man who wins is the man who works,
Who neither labor or trouble shirks,
Who uses his hands, his head, his eyes,
For the man who wins is the man who tries.
References
Livadas, G. (2011). Deaf Education: A New Philosophy. The Endeavor,p. American Society for Deaf Children, 51-55.
Rashkind M.H. & Goldberg, R.J. (2005). Life Success for Students with Learning Disabilities: A Parent’s Guide. http://www.ldonline.org/article/Life_Success_For_Students_With_Learning_Disabilities%3A_A_Parent's_Guide?theme=print
Sabatino, D. (1983). The House that Jack Built. Journal of Learning Disabilities, p.16, 26-27.
Livadas, G. (2011). Deaf Education: A New Philosophy. The Endeavor,p. American Society for Deaf Children, 51-55.
Rashkind M.H. & Goldberg, R.J. (2005). Life Success for Students with Learning Disabilities: A Parent’s Guide. http://www.ldonline.org/article/Life_Success_For_Students_With_Learning_Disabilities%3A_A_Parent's_Guide?theme=print
Sabatino, D. (1983). The House that Jack Built. Journal of Learning Disabilities, p.16, 26-27.
