Illiteracy reveals a writer

 

As an enthusiastic human communicator, I have begun to cast my net out into the stratosphere through social media. There are many points I could make about how SM is daunting (at least for me), but there is an element fundamental to the medium, which has to be mastered in one form or another, to be heard.

In addition to a platform and point of view, one needs to have the ability to write!

As I sit here banging away on a computer keyboard whose letters are so worn out they can’t be distinguished anymore, I marvel at life’s intention.

Was it always in the cards that I would be sitting here today steeped in thought, and untangling words to reveal their true meaning? Were it not for the fact I am sitting here, I never could have imagined in my wildest dreams, I would become a writer.

From my earliest memories I was a terrible student. I absolutely hated reading and eventually hated the written word. My nemesis was dyslexia, but know one knew it. Not even me. Unable to keep up with my peers, I dragged behind them and became angry, confused and broken. Poor grades, personal humiliation and “slow classes” taught me how education FELT. As a bright, resourceful and determined child, I developed alternative ways to capture the essence of learning. I became an astute observer, an intense listener and used creative skills to help tie images and ideas together. Somehow I muscled through each grade. When I finished 12th (and yes, somehow actually graduated) I even tried one more time to follow the mainstream. It was a small teacher’s college. I had dreamed of teaching young children, but failed the 1st semester exams. With no choice, I left and felt sure I was done with academia and the written word, forever.

But, writing is what I am doing and a writer is who I have become.

  • lgb3888

    A lovely, funny and wise post. Love your title. I hope you write a memoir with a few more details and story about how you got from your nemesis to your passion.