I'm in a ranting mood.
My brain is starting to piss me off.
I'm dyslexic, and I rarely bring this up. I struggle with sight reading and I struggle to remember sequences (particularly numbers), so as you can probably guess there are some parts of learning a language that cause my brain to go "whaaaaaa?". I have never used being dyslexic as an excuse for anything, I made it through secondary school without any support because my primary school wrote me off as stupid and never informed whoever you're supposed to inform about this sort of stuff. I spent many 'detentions' in primary school having to write on the blackboard "b d b d" (I'd always be told off for not getting them the right way round), many 'detentions' copying word lists and an entire lunch time sitting in the class room doing my 4 times table. For the record, I still don't know my timetables - I had a private tutor to help me through my GCSE in Maths (I wanted a C and was scared that I wouldn't get it because I was completely lost) who told me that if I didn't know my timetables by 16 then there wasn't much point learning now. For the record, I still count on my fingers. Basically it wasn't until very recently that someone decided to take my 'borderline' result and do further testing.
But sometimes my brain just frustrates me - I know what the fucking thing says, why can't I read it aloud without sounding like a four year old learning to read? Why is it that I can look at the sentence and then say it, but I can't read it off the page? Why can't I remember sequences? Why has it taken me nearly two years to remember my mobile number?
I'm fairly intelligent, I can pick things up pretty quickly so what the hell is going on in my brain? Did it just give up on me when it was supposed to be sorting out the brain chemicals and stuff? I seem programme to reverse-logic, it might be logical to you to have your keys in the door but I have to force myself to do that because my natural instinct is to put them in the fridge or with the tea. I am incapable of holding a coherent conversation on one subject because I seem to find bizarre links to other topics, that even I wonder where the hell that came from! I ramble in my writing, and I'm sure if my history teacher hadn't suggested we answer the exam questions in bullet point form I would have run out of paper, bored the examiner half to death and missed half the stuff that was important as I rambled on about the advantages of Isambard Kingdom Brunel's gauge vs Stevenson's on a question about the development of the leisure industry thanks to the railways...!
I get annoyed that I have to make my brain do things logical. Maybe that's why my brain things the day is longer than 24hrs, or why I am bipolar. Hell maybe that's why I'm gay!
I don't like this label of dyslexia.
I often thing it is used far too often as an excuse, or because someone is too scared to tell a parent that their child just isn't very bright. I went to college (first time round, to do my tech theatre diploma) with a boy who got all the support you could possibly want, he was given a laptop and had a one-on-one session with an advisor every week. That was fine, but what wasn't fine was the fact he was utterly useless. For those who don't know, being a stage manager whilst putting a production together generates a lot of paperwork, schedules need to be written, time needs to be managed and forward planning is essential. There is a hell of lot of stuff you need to make sure is done. Myself and another person on the course found ourselves doing this essential stuff on top of our own stuff, he did nothing to help he just sat around listening to music or tinkering with something that was nothing to do with his department and used the excuse "I'm dyslexic." No, you're just fucking lazy! Actually since no one involved is reading this, my friend was Elaine and the guy in question is Gerard.
On our BIG production (well for us) with the professional director who came in counted for a lot of units, we got two grades for 'Production Planning' (basically all out paperwork and stuff that goes into the planning state of the production), and we were graded on our parts of it. For this show ('More Light') I was the lighting designer, so I had a lot of paperwork to do - I needed to draw lighting plans, do costings, focus plots... you get the idea - I had to write down everything my lights were doing, when and how they were doing it. I needed to have detailed plans on paper that listed where the light was hanging, which circuit it was plugged into and what channel on the desk it was, I had pieces of paper that listed where the light was focussed, how it was focussed and what colour (if any) was in it. So that was my work, Elaine was the Deputy Stage Manager. Now that is GOD. She sat in every rehearsal and wrote down the blocking, she had to know everything about the production and she was in charge - she called the show (told us when to do things). We ended up (between us) doing all Gerard's work.
Once the show was over and done with, our tutor praised Gerard for all the hard work he had put into the show, the skill and commitment he had shown, the leadership he used to pull it together. Me, Elaine and the others all exchanged looks whilst Gerard sat there glowing... he got the Technical Theatre award that year and they gave him the role of Stage Manager on the big college musical at the Charter Theatre. Elaine once again ended up doing all the hard work, as well as her lighting plan. I was working on my own on a different show.
At one point Gerard was in danger of failing his final year because he had so much outstanding work, so being the helpful group that we were... me and Elaine went through all his work and made a list of what he needed to do. Elaine made him a timetable... notice how it wasn't him organising himself to do what he needed to do. He got his work done, got his award, got into Central School of Speech and Drama (to study Production Management)... and then left after one year.
So that is why I don't like this label 'dyslexia'. It's a real thing, but I don't think it's used correctly.
Oh well. Off to work I go.
Last night my mum suggested that I leave work and train to be a teacher... 0_0. At what point do you wonder if your mum is really your mum? She knows I really hate children, and I have said many many times that I would never want to be a teacher. My mum was a teacher, she left because she was sick of the people she was teaching... why does she think that would be a profession I would consider? Teachers are special people, they are patient, they usually like children and they are wonderful people. I hate children, I have no interest in children, and don't have the patience.
I'm dyslexic, and I rarely bring this up. I struggle with sight reading and I struggle to remember sequences (particularly numbers), so as you can probably guess there are some parts of learning a language that cause my brain to go "whaaaaaa?". I have never used being dyslexic as an excuse for anything, I made it through secondary school without any support because my primary school wrote me off as stupid and never informed whoever you're supposed to inform about this sort of stuff. I spent many 'detentions' in primary school having to write on the blackboard "b d b d" (I'd always be told off for not getting them the right way round), many 'detentions' copying word lists and an entire lunch time sitting in the class room doing my 4 times table. For the record, I still don't know my timetables - I had a private tutor to help me through my GCSE in Maths (I wanted a C and was scared that I wouldn't get it because I was completely lost) who told me that if I didn't know my timetables by 16 then there wasn't much point learning now. For the record, I still count on my fingers. Basically it wasn't until very recently that someone decided to take my 'borderline' result and do further testing.
But sometimes my brain just frustrates me - I know what the fucking thing says, why can't I read it aloud without sounding like a four year old learning to read? Why is it that I can look at the sentence and then say it, but I can't read it off the page? Why can't I remember sequences? Why has it taken me nearly two years to remember my mobile number?
I'm fairly intelligent, I can pick things up pretty quickly so what the hell is going on in my brain? Did it just give up on me when it was supposed to be sorting out the brain chemicals and stuff? I seem programme to reverse-logic, it might be logical to you to have your keys in the door but I have to force myself to do that because my natural instinct is to put them in the fridge or with the tea. I am incapable of holding a coherent conversation on one subject because I seem to find bizarre links to other topics, that even I wonder where the hell that came from! I ramble in my writing, and I'm sure if my history teacher hadn't suggested we answer the exam questions in bullet point form I would have run out of paper, bored the examiner half to death and missed half the stuff that was important as I rambled on about the advantages of Isambard Kingdom Brunel's gauge vs Stevenson's on a question about the development of the leisure industry thanks to the railways...!
I get annoyed that I have to make my brain do things logical. Maybe that's why my brain things the day is longer than 24hrs, or why I am bipolar. Hell maybe that's why I'm gay!
I don't like this label of dyslexia.
I often thing it is used far too often as an excuse, or because someone is too scared to tell a parent that their child just isn't very bright. I went to college (first time round, to do my tech theatre diploma) with a boy who got all the support you could possibly want, he was given a laptop and had a one-on-one session with an advisor every week. That was fine, but what wasn't fine was the fact he was utterly useless. For those who don't know, being a stage manager whilst putting a production together generates a lot of paperwork, schedules need to be written, time needs to be managed and forward planning is essential. There is a hell of lot of stuff you need to make sure is done. Myself and another person on the course found ourselves doing this essential stuff on top of our own stuff, he did nothing to help he just sat around listening to music or tinkering with something that was nothing to do with his department and used the excuse "I'm dyslexic." No, you're just fucking lazy! Actually since no one involved is reading this, my friend was Elaine and the guy in question is Gerard.
On our BIG production (well for us) with the professional director who came in counted for a lot of units, we got two grades for 'Production Planning' (basically all out paperwork and stuff that goes into the planning state of the production), and we were graded on our parts of it. For this show ('More Light') I was the lighting designer, so I had a lot of paperwork to do - I needed to draw lighting plans, do costings, focus plots... you get the idea - I had to write down everything my lights were doing, when and how they were doing it. I needed to have detailed plans on paper that listed where the light was hanging, which circuit it was plugged into and what channel on the desk it was, I had pieces of paper that listed where the light was focussed, how it was focussed and what colour (if any) was in it. So that was my work, Elaine was the Deputy Stage Manager. Now that is GOD. She sat in every rehearsal and wrote down the blocking, she had to know everything about the production and she was in charge - she called the show (told us when to do things). We ended up (between us) doing all Gerard's work.
Once the show was over and done with, our tutor praised Gerard for all the hard work he had put into the show, the skill and commitment he had shown, the leadership he used to pull it together. Me, Elaine and the others all exchanged looks whilst Gerard sat there glowing... he got the Technical Theatre award that year and they gave him the role of Stage Manager on the big college musical at the Charter Theatre. Elaine once again ended up doing all the hard work, as well as her lighting plan. I was working on my own on a different show.
At one point Gerard was in danger of failing his final year because he had so much outstanding work, so being the helpful group that we were... me and Elaine went through all his work and made a list of what he needed to do. Elaine made him a timetable... notice how it wasn't him organising himself to do what he needed to do. He got his work done, got his award, got into Central School of Speech and Drama (to study Production Management)... and then left after one year.
So that is why I don't like this label 'dyslexia'. It's a real thing, but I don't think it's used correctly.
Oh well. Off to work I go.
Last night my mum suggested that I leave work and train to be a teacher... 0_0. At what point do you wonder if your mum is really your mum? She knows I really hate children, and I have said many many times that I would never want to be a teacher. My mum was a teacher, she left because she was sick of the people she was teaching... why does she think that would be a profession I would consider? Teachers are special people, they are patient, they usually like children and they are wonderful people. I hate children, I have no interest in children, and don't have the patience.