First Person: Why my learning disabilities make me a better teacher

Abstract

When Kara Ball was in 10th grade, her math teacher humiliated her for struggling to solve a problem on the board. That experience led her to become a special education teacher and to create a classroom where students feel supported. Her learning disabilities have enabled her to understand what her students need in order to achieve their full potential. Here, she enumerates some of the ways other teachers can do the same.

Keywords

learning disabilities dyslexia dyscalculia special education teacher

Remembering what helped and hindered her learning enables this teacher to create a classroom focused on students’ needs.

I can feel their eyes on me as I stare at a math problem on the board — it’s a problem I’ve seen many times before, yet it’s no easier for me to solve now than it was the first time I saw it. After what feels like an eternity, my 10th-grade math teacher walks up to me. I assume he’s going to help me solve the problem like he has done in the past. Instead, he says something that has stuck with me to this day. Loud enough for a classroom full of my peers to hear, he says, “You’re stupid and are never going to amount to anything.”

As a student, I had struggled academically because of multiple learning disabilities. I could have decided that day to drop out of high school. I could have accepted every negative assumption ever made about me because of my dyslexia and dyscalculia. But rather than dropping out or giving in, I decided at that moment that I wanted to be a teacher — and not just any teacher but a special education teacher.

Fast-forward seven years. I became that special education teacher I set out to be — ensuring that students like me are never made to feel the way I did in that moment about something we have no control over. My personal experiences as a student and now a teacher who has learning disabilities have made me uniquely aware and skilled at supporting students with disabilities. Here’s what I’ve learned along the way.

6 ways to discover what’s possible for every student

1. Be empathetic. I wish my 10th-grade math teacher had understood just how badly I wanted to be the student he wanted me to be. I wish I could have solved the math problem the first time I saw it or even the fifth time, but that’s not how it works for me. As educators, it’s essential for us to understand that our students with disabilities can’t control how and in what way their disability affects them. Even more important, we have to remember that even if two students have the same identification, their disability can present in very different ways. We cannot afford to make assumptions.

My 9th-grade science teacher was the first teacher to take the time to advocate on my behalf, making it clear that, despite my disabilities, I was capable of succeeding academically if given a chance. Mr. Dalton petitioned for me to be enrolled in his honors Matter and Energy course, despite my being a less than C-average student. His classroom was the first above-grade-level classroom I ever walked into, and it was the start of my journey to become a science teacher like him. He understood that it is our responsibility, as educators, to work with the student, special education team, and family members to understand each student’s needs and how best to support them.

2. Don’t rely on rote learning. Had I known more about my own disability in 10th grade, I would have been able to explain to my teacher that rote learning and recalling facts is not something I can do with any level of automaticity. My short-term memory doesn’t function as it should, making it difficult to store and recall information — especially new concepts — if it isn’t connected it to something visual or a hands-on activity. To this day, I am unable to recall my multiplication facts. I struggle to do any level of mental math and can be seen counting on my fingers or working out the problem on paper. None of this means that I’m confused about the given mathematical concepts, though. It just means that I cannot recall facts or solve equations in my head, and I need to find other ways to build on my understanding. That day in 10th grade, I froze when asked to solve the problem on the board because I couldn’t recall what the equation was.

3. Make it visual. For students like me who have dyscalculia, making abstract math concepts as visual as possible significantly helps with understanding and retaining information. For example, one of my favorite math visuals is the elapsed time math strategy. On a number line, students draw a mountain to represent large units of elapsed time (such as hours), hills for small units (such as minutes), and rocks for the smallest units (such as seconds).

In my STEM classroom, I rarely give my students handouts of problems to solve. Instead, I give them tools like blueprint paper to use as they work through the engineering design process, sketching out their ideas on paper. Or I encourage them to make “doodle notes” to visually represent new vocabulary words or equations. When students have trouble lining up numbers in an equation, I give them graphing paper. Simple tools like this that can be the difference between computation success and failure. A student like me might not be able to solve an abstract problem written on a blackboard, but the same problem, presented in a different visual format, can be less of a struggle.

4. Make connections to the real world. My father, though not a formal educator, turned out to be one of my best teachers. My disabilities required that information be presented as concretely as possible. When I struggled to grasp geometry, he put real tools in my hands, like saws, plum lines, and levels. He clearly explained to me how the principles of geometry are used to build structures — like the treehouse we built in our backyard. I understood why the measurements were so important and then used those measures to construct something real.

Many of the same hands-on projects I did with my father (like creating model rockets to understand force and motion), I now do with my STEM students. I have found that students with disabilities who struggle in other academic areas tend to excel in STEM because of the connections they make to the real world. Plus, STEM encourages students to take risks, make mistakes, and work through problems — something students with disabilities are familiar with.

5. Allow voice and choice. As a 10th-grade math student, I froze when asked to solve a problem on the board. However, if the teacher had given me the opportunity to solve the problem on paper before going to the board I would have been able to do so, especially if I could have used my notes. As educators, we need to provide alternative ways for students to show what they know, rather than relying solely on tests and quizzes and oral demonstrations of learning.

For example, in my classroom, we use interactive notebooks in all subject areas to collect information. Each student has their own notebook that they can reference long after that day’s lesson ends. I can provide the students feedback on the learning documented in their notebooks and differentiate what they include in their notebooks based on their needs. I also model how to solve problems using several different strategies and allow students to choose which method works best for them. Providing such choices gives students autonomy in their learning.

6. Embrace assistive technology. Toward the end of 6th grade, my middle school called my parents into a meeting because I couldn’t pass the required 6th-grade math test. I didn’t just fail the test once. I failed it multiple times. The school told my parents that if I could not pass the exam, I would not be able to move on to the next grade level.

My parents weren’t sure exactly what was wrong, but they knew it was something more than math anxiety. I had already been identified in 3 rd grade as being dyslexic. Could there be a connection? After the meeting, my parents sought out additional testing for me, which identified me as also having dyscalculia. That explained the persistent math struggles.

With my new diagnosis, updated individualized education program (IEP), and a request for assistive technology, I became the first student in my school system to take the end-of-the-year math test on the computer. I passed the test on my first attempt because the assistive technology helped me to read the test’s directions aloud, enlarge the print, and complete word problems. The computerized version of the test assisted me with calculations when computation wasn’t being assessed, just like when students use calculators. Assistive technology became a game changer across all academic areas, helping me become more independently successful, and it’s something I still rely on heavily today as an adult. As educators, we have to embrace the reality that accommodations like assistive technology aren’t cheating; rather, they help to level the playing field.

Overcoming the odds

Growing up with multiple learning disabilities wasn’t easy. I didn’t outgrow my disability — I just got better at accommodating myself. As I learned what I needed, and learned in the ways I needed, I succeeded more often. I not only graduated high school and went to college, but I graduated college with honors. I continued to find success in the classroom and was named a 2018 State Teacher of the Year and one of four finalists for National Teacher of the Year. I often wonder where I would have ended up if I had dropped out of school that day in 10th grade rather than persisting in the face of failure.

As educators, we must seek out the potential in all of our students. Having a disability in one area doesn’t necessarily mean students will struggle in others. Our goal should be to look for and nurture the abilities they do have, rather than focusing on those they lack.