Walking in Their Shoes

Imagine your precious child sitting anxiously in their classroom, praying not to be picked to read out loud. They’re all too aware that if they’re chosen, their peers might discover their struggles and tease them. Picture them looking over to their classmates during a test—not because they want to cheat, but simply because they can’t read the questions as swiftly as others do. They’re terrified of standing out, of being seen as slow or less intelligent.

When they look at a book, their eyes constantly shifting and adjusting, the words seem to dance around the page. Even though they know each word and understand its meanings, the constantly moving text makes it difficult to keep up. Imagine them trying to copy from a chalkboard but falling behind because their eyes take longer to focus on the words. In the process, they miss the teacher’s explanations because they’re so busy trying to jot down a few words. Despite these challenges, they do their best to blend in, to avoid feeling different or needing special assistance. It’s a testament to their intelligence and resilience that they’ve managed to get by in this way for so long.

This was my own experience in school, and you can see why it wasn’t a time I fondly remember. For many years, I believed I was less capable, and I was unable to comprehend why school seemed so straightforward and enjoyable for other kids. Despite working tirelessly with tutors and my dedicated parents, my academic performance never reflected my effort. It wasn’t until I addressed some underdeveloped foundational skills such as eliminating retained primitive reflexes, working on my eyesight, and adjusting my diet that my grades improved dramatically. I went from average grades to straight As and even made the dean’s list when I figured all this out in college. I’ve come to believe that this struggle was a lesson in disguise—a blessing from above rather than a curse. It equipped me with the understanding and empathy to help children who face similar struggles.