Making It Real

I discovered that I have a learning disability in first grade when I was watching my classmates read Harry Potter beside me while I was struggling to read Junie B Jones. I wanted to be reading the longer, more elaborate books, but every time that I tried, I found it impossible to get through them. Yet, I was too embarrassed to share my problem with anyone so I was stuck. Luckily for me, my first grade teacher was exceptionally observant and recognized that I was struggling. After speaking to my parents and going through a series of 7-hr tests, I learned that I have dyslexia and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). When I was younger, I had no idea what it meant so my mom explained it to me as, “your brain is just wired differently from everyone else’s.”

“I would not be the successful student that I am today if I did not have my accommodations and my tutoring.”

I still did not truly understand what that meant, but I knew I did not want to be different. I had no desire to be the kid missing class to go to tutoring three times a week, the one who would cry to her mom at the mention of a vocab test, or the one who could not read the same books as her friends read. However, I soon realized that I was born with the brain that I have, and there was nothing I could do to change it. Instead, I would listen to the books I wanted to read on tape so that I could read books that were interesting to me and discuss them with my friends. I began to accept the fact that tutoring was a part of my life and I went on to have a tutor every year until I was in eighth grade. I hung in there and spent countless hours relearning how to read and do simple math. I now use the tools that I learned every day to be a thriving student, and I am so grateful for my determination as a child.

While growing up in a public schools system that knew next to nothing about twice-exceptional (2e) children, my mom became my rock when it came to all things related to my education. She taught herself and became an activist for me and other students across my school district. The schools system struggled to understand that even though I was smart, I still needed extra support to learn and be successful in school. I needed accommodations such as extra time to do the best that I could in school and on long tests. However, administrators and teachers only saw that I was not “failing-out” of school and was not “obviously disabled,” and they felt that this meant I did not need any accommodations. It took numerous tests and long discussions to finally convince the educators that I required these accommodations and that I did (and do) qualify for additional support. Although the fight for recognition and support was a long battle, it was worth it! I would not be the successful student that I am today if I did not have my accommodations and my tutoring.

Because of the time and effort that my mom put forward to help me get the accommodation I deserve, I have been able to be successful in high school. I get straight As, take rigorous Advanced Placement (AP) classes, and hope to go to college and study international relations after my senior year. I know that I would not have any of this success if I had not been given my accommodations. Extra time gives me the chance to show what I know on tests and classwork. A separate setting allows me to focus my mind and really put forth my best effort. All students deserve to have this level of success if they are willing to put in the time and the effort. School systems and others should not hinder students simply because they do not understand what 2e students are going through.

A universal definition of 2e, like the one developed by the National Twice-Exceptional Community of Practice (2e CoP), would hopefully be able to close the gap in understanding between 2e students and family members and school administrators. Students and their parents would have something tangible to show schools to prove that they are not trying to scam the schools but genuinely have a problem that needs addressing. This CoP definition legitimizes “2e” and the need for support to help students be successful.

Another important benefit that the national 2e CoP definition could bring is awareness. A definition is official: It makes things real. I think that more educators will take the time to study what it means to be 2e and learn about the types of support that different students need. This awareness might help when students are trying to get an Individualized Education Plan (IEP) or 504 because school systems will already have some knowledge about what they are going through.

The 2e CoP definition could not only make it easier to explain what 2e is to administration but also other people in my life. Two of my best friends, who are also 2e, had no idea what the term meant until they met my mom and me. They thought that they were alone in the situation and there was nothing that could be done about it. They did not realize that there is a whole community of people going through similar situations who could be there to answer questions and help them along the way. In a similar sense, I can use this definition to explain 2e to my non-disabled friends. I get a lot of questions that are like, “Why do you do so well in school?” or “What are things like for you?” If I could just show them a definition, it would make explanations much simpler.

Things have tremendously improved for me since I was in elementary and middle school but not without a fight. Even now, I still have days when I feel that I just cannot complete this assignment or memorize these vocab words, and I end up crying to my mom. There is a lot of improvement to be made in terms of awareness of 2e children, and how they are dealt with in school systems. I feel that the 2e CoP definition of 2e could help close many gaps and make things better for 2e students.