Dyslexia

For those interested I thought I would extrapolate on my previous mention of my dyslexia diagnosis.
I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder when I was eight and in third grade. I've been off and on medication for it for most of my academic career, gone through programs to "make new pathways in the brain" and make it easier to concentrate. I made it through Jr. High and High School and eventually made it to the illustrious Wheaton College.
Academically I have struggled with at least one class every semester since I have entered college. Since my freshman year it was Music Theory, then Brit Lit, then World History, and most recently Spanish. My parents had been very critical of the grades I received in these classes, as most of my other grades have been in the A-B range. I struggled with the fact that I struggled with these classes. Many of these subjects are ones that I LOVE. Literature and history are two of my favorites because I have a deep love for stories. There are so many foreign languages I wish I could learn as well. Everything from Spanish to German to Gaelic to Dutch to Latin are on my list. But it was Spanish that brought me to my knees. My first semester at Wheaton I was in a Spanish class with a professor who continues to be one of my favorite at Wheaton. I was overwhelmed. We had daily vocabulary and usually several more assignments on top of that. The first couple days I managed to stay on top of my vocab. Bailar - to dance. Edicifio - building. I quickly fell behind. After talking through my schedule with a professor, I dropped Spanish. For a whole year I avoided it.
My sophomore year I once again began my instruction in Spanish. The same professor, same book, same level. I still struggled, but I had a better idea of what to expect. I fought my way through two semesters of Spanish with barely passing grades. I did not think I was at a place where I should be moving on to 201 (which is the final level for competency at Wheaton) but when I asked my professor if I should repeat a semester, she told me I should go on, so I signed up! Unfortunately, this was even worse! I would sit in class and stare at my teacher as she spoke rapid fire Spanish with a look of pure incomprehension. The pressures of the semester and just college in general were getting to me.
One day I mentioned to my teacher that I struggled with vocabulary, especially verbs, and she told me if I asked my counselor to give her a note, I could maybe get some help with the competency exam.

Thus began long process of my diagnosis.

I mentioned what my prof had said to my counselor at the beginning of one of my meetings. The next week he gave me the name of the women who basically is the Student Disability program and I sent an e-mail off to her hoping I could meet with her before I left campus for Thanksgiving Break. She said she could meet with me, but I had to fill out a survey of sorts before then. I picked the survey up later that day, filled it out, and then tried to remember to go and make another appointment with her. I did, and after talking with Jennie, she agreed it seemed like something was going on but she said she couldn't do anything without a psychologists report saying there was an issue. She gave me a page full of names and numbers and I left for break, confused, and hoping desperately this long process would be over soon.
The first woman on the list was actually an employee of the counseling center at Wheaton. She was my counselors overseer and boss. When my mom called Lisa, she was already familiar with my plight and had done this kind of disability testing before. Just discussing my "symptoms" she thought I might be dyslexic.
How can this be? you ask. The girl who constantly has her nose is a book? The one whose vocabulary matches a person out of grad school?
Well, thus followed one of the longest weekends of my life. I had five performances in three days. Then I had to work in two three hour appointments with Lisa for testing, because the following week there loomed COMPETENCY!!! I was put through a large variety of tests which I will not go into boring detail about, but a couple interesting details stood out to me. First, during the math portion I had a problem that involved an analog clock and it took me an obscene amount of time to complete. Lisa paused and asked me if I had had problems with learning analog clocks when I was younger, and when I said I had she said that that was often indicative of dyslexia. Secondly she said the way I help my pen was the same. She called it the thumb wrap. The result of my testing was as she predicted. I was mildly dyslexic.
Lisa had gone over my past ADD diagnosis and had found many indicators of dyslexia there. She also mentioned that it is not uncommon to find someone with a diagnosis of ADD to also have a diagnosis of dyslexia. Illinois is apparently one of the worst states for identifying dyslexia and Lisa had tested more than one college student whose condition had gone undiscovered until college. She said that since my fluid reasoning is so high I had developed coping strategies around the hindrances of my dyslexia, but these had stopped working for me once I got to college.
After this a report was sent to Jennie and Jennie sent an e-mail to my Spanish professor. Spanish competency was conquered and I am ready to face the rest of my college classes with new strategies to succeed!

And that is the very long story of my dyslexia diagnosis. If you've made it this far, I am impressed! Please bear with me as I continue to explore what I can do with this blog.

'Tis the Season

Yesterday a select number of my family and I went to man a Salvation Army bucket outside of a Jewel grocer. The first group of us (of which I was a part) consisted of my mother, my youngest brother, and myself. The next part was pretty predictable for my family. My mother put on the apron, my brother immediately claimed the loudest bell for himself. I felt awkward. Don't get me wrong, I believe what I was doing was a good thing, but I am very shy. Standing outside a Jewel ringing a bell to call attention to something is not in my comfort zone. My mom is much better at that sort of thing. She greeted everybody as they came in and out of the store. I just stood there and smiled like a slightly deranged person. Finally we decided to start singing Christmas carols. This made me happy and more terrified. Singing is one of my favorite things. I sing everywhere. But at the same time, I would be drawing attention to myself.
Whatever. What was I going to do? I agreed to this. So my mom and I start coming up with Christmas carols and we sung them! There were some amusing attempts on my mom's part to sing alto harmony but for the most part it was straight forward Christmas carols. At first I was thinking, "Who wants to listen to us sing these "every day" (haha) Christmas carols. But the more people came up to us and thanked us for singing and told us how great we sounded, I realized how blessed I have been for the past like sixteen years of my life. I have literally been in a Christmas program of some kind for sixteen years. Sixteen. I have been singing these songs every year for sixteen years, in increasingly competent and better singing groups. I started out in music class at Trinity Lutheran and made it through Madrigals and the Christmas concert at University High School, and am now in Women's Chorale at Wheaton College performing with some of the most talented musicians in the nation. How many people can say the same thing. I have been so spoiled as Christmas music go. Despite the fact I performed with almost the entirety of the Wheaton College Music Conservatory, I rediscovered my awe for the Christmas story and the beauty of Christmas carols standing outside that grocery store singing with my mother and occasionally with my little brother when he decided he wanted to. I pray I remember the feeling and can remain thankful through the holidays. May you and your family be blessed this year!

Processing

Finals are over! The last paper has been written, the tests are finished, the awkward meetings with profs ended. I should be wildly rejoicing. I just feel empty. I feel like I have missed something this past semester and just didn't quite find it. Or maybe that I did start to go somewhere good, but haven't gotten far enough yet. I'm not saying I want to stay on campus, because I don't, but shouldn't I be leaving with a feeling of relief? Victory? Triumph? I feel drained.
I called my mom after my last final and cried a little and she suggested that everything that's happened this semester is finally catching up with me. It's true this year has been rough. Not being able to find a roommate, classes where I learned little and stressed a lot, relationship conflicts, being diagnosed with dyslexia. That's a lot to process. I'm hoping that break helps me work this out, or at least prepare me to work them out during next semester.

Crazy Peaceful (and a side note)

I started a post (entry?) talking about all the small items I needed to take care of for the coming week, and though it was a helpful thing for me to see, I did not feel the need to post it to the world. This semester (this quad at least) I have been trying very hard to focus on God on the long stressful days. Often I need a reminder that no matter how crazy life will get, I am not the one in charge of it. Some people might not find this comforting. There are times when I rebel against this idea. But for the most part I try to remind myself to rest in God's peace. He has it all figured out, therefore I don't have to. (Do not have to? How formal do I really want this blog to be?) I will be honest in saying I have no idea where my life is going to go after college. My interests lie in the arts. This is a hard place to be "gainfully employed" in. But you know what? That's okay! God has a plan for my life, and I am trying very hard to relax, live in the moment, and trust God knows what he's doing in my life. If God knows what he is doing with my life long term, he knows how I get through this week. There is great peace in this knowledge.

Side note: I have a resolution for this blog. I am resolved to not use the word things unless absolutely necessary. It is imprecise and overused in our society and I will not have it in my blog!

The Beginning (a very good place to start)

So this is something I've been contemplating for awhile now, and I've finally decided that it's worth trying. I've been tossing around the idea for a blog for a variety of reasons. First and foremost being I often have things that bounce around in my head, however, if I do not record these more often or not they get lost. I'm not recording any of it for attention, this is mostly so I can keep it organized for myself. Reason number two is I am planning on studying abroad this summer and I think that this is a good way to keep my family (or anyone else who cared) updated without a phone. We shall see what actually happens with that.

Anyways quick summary:
I am a 20 year old artist and musician currently enrolled in a school of higher learning. I cannot live without singing, I love my oboe and my guitar, and I am happiest when my hands are covered in clay or when I'm looking through a camera. I am extremely intelligent, however not the best student ever due to ADD, a mild case of dyslexia, and the feeling that there are more important things in life. Despite this, I somehow managed to get into a very good institution of higher learning, and am currently slogging through finals of my first semester of my third year. Another point of interest: I should be asleep right now. Asleep you ask? You are a college student? What is this sleep of which you speak? Yeah, yeah. I've heard it before. I need sleep to function. Therefore I make sure I get enough of it. Also there is that whole thing with morning classes. Not to mention this weekend might possibly have been one of the most hectic of my life.

Well good. I was relatively sure I wasn't going to get much in the first post, but apparently I am a more prolific writer than I thought I was. Cool. Also, there might also be some of the, I was just diagnosed with a mild case of dyslexia and want to prove that I am a good writer thing. Maybe some of that. Well, I have convinced myself for the time being. Time for sleep. Goodnight world.