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Penny
I was born and brought
up in Aberdeen. When I started school no one knew that I was dyslexic. I can
remember my first spelling book. I was OK at the three letter words but it got
harder as we moved on to four and when it got to five it was difficult if not
impossible. Today I write this with the aid of a spellmaster and
computer spell-check. Life has moved on but my spelling has not. I have learned
to cope with help from my very sympathetic husband and help from the Dyslexia
Association Adult Group run by Jan .
School days were not happy
ones and I remember in primary class being put under the teachers table
and smacked with a ruler because I could not spell. In secondary school I was
a very quiet person, not drawing attention to myself, but I had to sit right
in front of the teacher as she thought I was a daydreamer. I did dream. I asked
myself all the time "Why me?" "Why cant I get it or do
it?"
My parents made me do copying
of italic writing, as if that would help, but to me it was a nightmare. I hated
writing thank-you letters, my handwriting was so bad and it took me so long
to do it. Even at twelve years old writing a postcard was a nightmare. No one
could read it anyway. I left school and did a one-year course at the College
of Commerce Retail and Distribution. For me it was a skive. It was just
like school. I got a certificate and I was amazed. My first job was in the Co-op
chemist. I could not even count the money and when decimalisation came in I
found it very hard to cope. I stayed there seven weeks and left. My mother had
written a job application for me: her writing was beautiful and I got the job
as a dental chairside receptionist. I stayed two years and left. My mother
went berserk because I got myself a job as a cook and this was way beneath her
station. I was under pressure.
I moved around and got
a very well paid job in a factory as a canteen assistant. I had to work shifts
but the pay was fantastic. I left home at seventeen and did not go back. In
this job I was bullied by the two girls I worked with, but I would put up with
any thing for the money. I did not need to write.
I got a step up and became
a shift cook. You had to fill in a record book at the end of each shift and
the girls teased me unmercifully. The factory closed down, but during this time
I had met and married my husband. We both had to look for new jobs; we had been
there fourteen years it was a huge shock to the brain. I continued to
work as a cook, in various places, for very poor money. Every time I changed
jobs it was the same problem it took me quite some time to learn a new
routine and the first two or three weeks would be awful for me.
Four years on, a friend
told me that the company she worked for was planning to open a new shop. I applied
for, and landed a new job not in cooking. I was running a retail outlet
for an agricultural company. For the first few weeks I was put to the main store
to learn how the place worked. In this department you had to write down each
customers name and address. I about died; it was horrendous. I wished
I was dead people watching you writing; my nerves were shattered. It
was hard, but I stubbornly would not give up. When I moved into the new shop
we did not need to go through this procedure, thank goodness.
I had to go on an initial
training course at Bishop Burton Agricultural College in York. I was now thirty-eight
years old. With the support of friends and my husband I managed to get through
the first week of the course, but I had to get help.I
got in touch with the Dyslexia Association and went to Glasgow to be
assessed. This cost me £100. I got my father to drive me there. It was
just so amazing to meet someone who seemed to know what I would do before I
did it, and why.
I was astounded. This lady
told me about coping strategies. This was a very big turning point in my life.
I went back to Bishop Burton College six months later and told them I was dyslexic.
They added on extra time for my exam and I was allowed to take my own made-up
dictionary into the exam room with me.
Well, I passed the exam
and could not believe it. I had failed for so long, it took me three months
to accept success. Six years later the shop was closed and I went back to cooking.
The money was poor but I could hide there (no writing again). I was paid off
and found another job in a dreadful kitchen. My father had died by this time
and I was in the position of being able to take on the real challenge of training
for a new profession.
I had gone to a chiropodist
to have my feet attended to, and I though that this was something that I would
like to do. I applied, and was accepted on the course. The learning was by open
modules sent to me one at a time. This was different. You had to keep yourself
motivated; it was OK in the winter but in the summer it was very hard to study.
After two years, I got to the end and it was nearing time to go for the exam,
but I found I could not recall all the knowledge.
I asked Jan for help and
after trying a mind mapping method by Tony Buzan, things began to happen. I
sat the exams and passed. I had to go back and do two weeks hands-on, then more
exams, which I also passed. I was amazed.
It took time for this success to sink in; I was a qualified chiropodist. It
was a bit frightening. I made a start with my own business and my husband had
to come on the business course to learn how to do the books. Without him it
would not have happened. I have been working for three years now and it can
still be frightening. I have only just recently learned how to work the computer
through Jan again. It opens more doors for me but I am still a novice
at it. When I have to write to doctors it scares me rigid. My husband helps
a lot with the spelling and grammar.
My life has changed so much. I am my own boss. I work my own hours and I get very well paid for it and I know it will get better. After thirty-eight years of working for rubbish money I can see a future, but I still regret the time I have lost. You cant get it back. You have to look forward if you want to have a satisfying life.