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When I was a child I had a form of dyslexia. Sadly, I was not diagnosed and instead was routinely scolded by teachers and my father. I had potential, they would tell me. I was smart, why didn’t I pay attention? Why didn’t I do my homework? I was constantly grounded for poor grades. I hated going to school some days if we had certain types of tests, and on it goes. Throughout my childhood going to school was heart wrenching for me. It didn’t turn around until ninth grade. That’s a very long time for a child to live under the label of “stupid” and the furrowed brow of one’s father.
I didn’t learn about dyslexia until I was a young adult. And when I did learn about it my particular type of dyslexia wasn’t listed so I still didn’t have any idea why I struggled so. My problem seemed so similar to those with dyslexia. I had then, and still have to this day, the most complex and amazing disability/disorder when it comes to numbers. I can’t calculate.
I can memorize long strings of numbers. I know all my bank account numbers, my Social Security number, telephone numbers from the ‘40s, PIN numbers, computer passwords with numbers, dog license numbers, medical numbers, birthdays of people I haven’t seen in 50 years, you name it. And I’m a computer geek and have been for years. Nothing gets by me and I usually can figure out the most frustrating computer problem and often use the most complicated software. I help everyone with their computer issues. But when I work with numbers I have to employ a little trick because I do not see the numbers easily. Instead, years of practice turned all my numbers into words. I don’t see 707-555-1234, I see seven oh seven five five five one two three four. Even typing this sentence astonishes me.
The advent of computer programs for bookkeeping and banking saves me hours of tedious book work. I can’t calculate and I can’t hold numbers in my head. Only for seconds at a time. They simply will not stick there long enough for me to add or subtract or do even the most rudimentary calculation. I must use a calculator for the most basic arithmetic. Leaving a tip has become an art form with me and I always over tip because it’s easier to calculate 20% than 15%.
People with disabilities often learn to compensate so that they can function in the world. I learned early on that seeing the numbers as words would get me by. But not at test time. During a test I needed to have basic calculation skills but I was driving myself further and further away from that and using my trick with word replacement. Try calculating a couple of words sometime. Bunny plus turtle equals . . . crud.
I actually was tested in later years after I explained to a college teacher (adult night classes) that I felt I had a type of dyslexia. She absolutely agreed when she asked me a few questions and arranged for the test. It was determined I have a form of dyslexia called dyscalculia, a lesser known disability of the dyslexia “family.”
The term refers to an impairment of the ability to solve mathematical problems. It spans the whole IQ range, and some sufferers often also have difficulties with time, measurement, and spatial reasoning. However, I do not. I always score very high on logic testing and did quite well in higher math as long as I could use a calculator. I understood the operations and formulas, I just couldn’t do them. My favorite afternoon activity is digging into a Sudoku puzzle. No calculation required. Just plug those numbers in where they belong using a little skill and logic.
By the time I was taking my two-year college math transfer class for a four-year college I felt confident. I had a stellar academic record and felt I wouldn’t have any difficulty with the transfer. I selected the least challenging of the required math offerings and bought the expensive calculator and went to class. Very few students were able to figure out how to use the calculator except me. I understood it instantly and helped the entire class. It was therefore a tremendous surprise to the instructor when he called me aside after class one night to tell me I was failing the class. He was stunned. I wasn’t.
I gave him the same story I had been giving my entire life. I didn’t "do" math. Silly defensive response but one I had come to love. In fact, I once took an employment aptitude test and did none of the math questions but didn’t miss a single question elsewhere on the exam. I was called a few days later and asked to meet with the proctor. She had never experienced anyone miss an entire section and she wondered if I simply forgot the section or if there was something wrong with the booklet I had been given. Again, I told the poor woman it was my lifelong math problem. She was so happy with the remainder of the test, explaining my new job would not require much math, that I got the job. That’s happened more than once in life.
I once worked in a billing/customer service office. I felt confident I would shine at the customer service and didn’t worry much about the billing part. Wrong. Eventually my problem caught up with me and I had to prepare a complicated calculation on a bill adjustment and I worked on it for hours and even took it home (it usually took only a few minutes for someone who was not math-impaired). I was .25 cents off. Finally, the deadline arrived and I placed it in my supervisor’s inbox. All adjustments went in that box for her final approval. I quickly moved back to my desk and waited. Sure enough, I heard her howl with laughter then I raced back to her desk. We were both hysterical and couldn’t stop laughing for a few days. Each time we looked at each other we broke down. Why? Because when I handed in the adjustment I taped a quarter to the sheet. We have been friends ever since and in fact will celebrate our mutual birthdays this coming week.
I had to drop the first instructor’s math class and start a new class the following semester. Different instructor, same problem. I dropped it again and took it a third time. Third time was the charm. It was the woman who had me tested and she immediately launched into passing survival tactics and I passed a complicated math class with a C. It’s the only C I got in my two-year program. I often wonder if it was a pity C.
During my research this week I found the following: “Although some researchers believe that dyscalculia necessarily implies mathematical reasoning difficulties as well as difficulties with arithmetic operations, there is evidence that an individual might not be able to manipulate the numerals in addition, subtraction, multiplication and division but with no impairment of, or even giftedness in, abstract mathematical reasoning abilities.” Oh, so true. Me and Einstein.
Around the ninth grade I was assigned to the classroom of an outstanding English teacher. I loved to read and write and she opened up worlds of literature for me that previous teachers thought I couldn’t handle because of my “problem.” I soon became her best pupil and couldn’t wait for class. When the ninth grade ended I was sad to leave her wonderful class but by that time I was a reading and writing addict and it saved my high school GPA in all other classes. My God, I could excel at something! For the first time in my life someone told me I was smart and even gifted. Not stupid.
Today dyscalculia can be detected at a young age and students have many resources available to them. Teachers have learned a slightly different approach to teaching these students. Dyscalculia is still the least known of the dyslexia learning disorders and so it is often not recognized. In fact, when I tell people about my problem it is often the first time they have heard about it and I often see a bit of skepticism in their expressions.
For many years I didn’t know I had a true disability/disorder and didn’t have academic confidence needed to pursue higher education. Eventually I received an A.A. with honors but by that time I had two kids in college and though I’m not good at numbers I could definitely do the math on that one (which was actually logic) and could not afford three of us in college. Something had to give. It was me. But I don’t care. Because I know I’m smart and I flaunt it whenever I can. Like now.
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