Anything is Possible

Learning how to surpass the struggles of dyslexia as a writer.

Little Alison Ward posing for her elementary school picture for the 2006–2007 academic year.

by Alison Ward

Dear Alison,

As I sit in a cafe, I stare at my blank Word document, listening to a classical piano piece — trying to find the words to say to you. The words I know you deserve to hear. To read. To believe.

You spent the past year struggling with the discovery that you have dyslexia. Teachers and people close to you made you feel so small, incapable and unintelligent for not being able to solve math problems or even comprehend words and sentences the way they can.

Do not listen to them. Instead, take what they say and use it as fuel to push yourself to not only succeed as a student, but as a person.

I am proud of how far you’ve come since being diagnosed with a learning disability at the age of seven. You spent many hours each week working with a private tutor to reprogram your dyslexic brain using the Barton method.

I can clearly picture the different colored tiles with vowels and consonants on them. You would line up next to each other to try and sound out a word. You felt worn out and considered telling your mom you were sick (when really you weren’t) because of the emotional drain you felt from school and these tutoring sessions.

Remember when you were in your fourth-grade classroom, and you experienced your first moment of feeling the heaviness of everyone’s eyes on you, judging you? It was time to do everyone’s favorite activity: popcorn reading.

You sat at your desk, with your right leg crossed over your left. Your right foot anxiously tapped against the metal desk leg as you scanned the next paragraph in your geology book.

You do this, even as a college student, so that you can prepare to read the next paragraph if you get called on. The teacher called on you. You panicked, but began to read. You reached a word that your brain could not process. The word looked foreign to you.

You tried to sound out the word for two long minutes. Your classmates’ judgmental comments flooded your mind. You felt the piercing of their burning laser eyes, just waiting for you to give up. You came back to reality. The classroom was silent. You continued to feel the heaviness of their eyes suffocating you. A wave of stress, heat and sweat overcame you. That was your first experience with anxiety.

The teacher softly giggled and said, “Wow, you really can’t say that word?” She then called on the next student. You sat there wondering “What is wrong with me?”

Alison, nothing is wrong with you.

Mrs. Heinson always believed in you. She spent your first-grade year sculpting the potential she always saw in you.

Do you remember the nights she spent with you in her kitchen after you both had exhausting, long days? She would patiently wait until you finished your homework. She would validate you when you felt like breaking down.

She wanted me to tell you this.

“Alison, as your first-grade teacher I noticed right away that you were struggling with reading and math,” Heinson said. “I worked one-on-one with you in class and later as your tutor. You were tenacious and very determined to learn and overcome your adversity of dyslexia. Your determination and dedication to learning and achieving your goals has always been an inspiration to everyone that knows you.”

Your determined heart that Mrs. Heinson spoke so lovingly of reminded me of a piece I read from The Dyslexia Foundation. There are a broad range of talents and gifts that individuals with dyslexia have in nonverbal/spatial domains. Two of the careers the foundation lists for high elevated domains for individuals with dyslexia happen to be the arts and theatre.

Alison Ward and Shelley Heinson together at the Cedarcrest Highschool 2019 Graduation // Photo by Angie Ward

You do not know this now, but the love you have for singing and acting helps you to become a better reader and writer. Learning to read sheet music and memorizing monologues, helped train your brain to sound out words and comprehend sentences. You went from having anxiety with reading out loud to performing in front of hundreds or thousands of people.

I know you hate reading and dread writing because you believe you aren’t the best at it, but guess what? You made it. You are a published writer — a journalist and an aspiring public relations specialist, who loves to write.

Since being diagnosed with dyslexia, you have never felt confident in your ability to write. Unfortunately, those insecurities still linger. But today, you decide to not let them stop you.

While writing this I tear up, just thinking about how you would’ve never imagined you’d be able to accomplish these amazing achievements.

I become more emotional knowing that you were the girl that knew her written work would have been butchered with red pen edits. Now you are the girl being awarded the Editor’s Choice award for the cleanest copy as a student reporter and being asked to be a featured student journalist for the critical thinking section in the June 2021 issue of the Editor & Publisher.

The drive you have is rare and the passion you hold for writing today is electrifying.

I end my letter with this; be an inspiration for those around you and know that you can do anything.

Sincerely,

You

Previous
Previous

“Made in Vietnam”

Next
Next

In the Grand Ski of Things