Perhaps it was in high school that I learned this, the importance of my own voice. My English teacher had just returned our writing papers with that week’s assignments on poetry writing. He leaned over my desk as he placed the paper in front of me, an A+ glaring up at me, circled in red. He smiled. It wasn’t the grade that meant that much to me, I did pretty well in school most of the time. It was the comment that he wrote right next to them that even today, I still hold in my heart.
“You should keep writing.”
I had never written poetry before and I never believed I had much worth saying. Of course, I grew up a fan of the great poets and enjoyed their writing – but who was I to think I could ever do the same? I had grown up in a home where there wasn’t much emotional support. Self-expression of any means was not tolerated. So why should I believe in myself? And perhaps that is why those words meant the whole world to me.
“You should keep writing.”
And I wrote furiously that year and the year after. I started to become known across high school as “our author.” I think back on those days as some of the happiest days of my young adult life. For once, I felt that I had found something that gave me a voice. In a home where speaking up was forbidden, where things were just that – unfair, I could write all of my feelings into a poem or a story and I could tell it without a worry. I could fiercely be me – and then decide if I ever wanted to share it with someone else. I could scream, I could cry, I could object – and no one was going to tell me what to say. It was there that I learned to be unafraid.
See, writing – is a powerful thing. It gives voice to someone who at one point in time, did not have one. In some cases, it is the very thing that those people need. It allows the writer to discover themselves, and it gives birth to the very important idea: we do not have to be a copycat to succeed. And this is where our dreams come alive. See, it matters not whether I ever am published. It matters not whether banners fly across the sky in my name. It matters not if I am appreciated or loved by every single person that passes my way.
I write each and every day to free the voice that is within me.
I want to see how I see things, aching toward better understanding
I want to feel the depth of feelings most people do not know
I want to breathe in the taste of a summer sunset
And feel the joyous opening of a petal as it blooms
I want – so powerfully – to be me.
And I cannot find contentment – just being like everyone else.
I want to write more – delve into things I have never tried. I want to experience life in ways I have yet to try. I want to discover the wonders in my ordinary days and celebrate them joyously.
I cannot promise the journey will always be without sorrow, nor that my view will always be cheery – but this is me, trying to make sense of my days, of my life, of the world around me. To know sorrow – makes the happy times that much sweeter. To know disappointment – makes the moments when you finally succeed that much more triumphant. And to know one another in this vast world of ours, we sometimes need to delve into how other people feel and see.
There is no proper recipe for life – no way to fill your days only with happy thoughts unless we deny there is any sadness, and to me – that is not real. I am not afraid to feel. For me, I want to live no matter where that might take me. For life, if it is to be cherished – needs to cherished in all its moments. The good times, a time to rejoice and the difficult times, a time for growth.
And this is me – deathly afraid to be a copycat, and you will never find me willing to apologize for my inability.
(c) Sumyanna 2016
This was written and inspired by the thought-provoking Daily Post Prompt: copycat
Gorgeous photo courtesy of Morguefile (9janedoe9)
Other excellent posts for the prompt:
Sumyanna Writes 
i cried … again…your words are powerful and so is the touching line that your teacher wrote,it changed your life,i’m happy you write cause we met because of that,i love you Sum,will always cherish you for what you bring to my world,God bless..and yes writing is so liberating,right 🙂 LOVE AND HUGS IN TRUCKS 🙂
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Oh, those lines were me on the page. I hate to say that I’m glad it made you cry. Those were some of the most defining moments of my life – when that teacher found promise in me, in something I did. I still remember it to this day. Oh, and I am certainly glad I write, for I don’t know if we would have ever met otherwise. It is a gift I cherish, meeting you 🙂 And yes, liberating! We need to set ourselves free more.
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you are a gift and a blessing,i’m honoured we share this bond 🙂 love you
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I love your writing and I love your determination to be the best person and writer you can be. Well written!
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Thank you very much – that means a lot to me 🙂
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Well done 🙂
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Thank you 🙂
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Most welcome 🙂
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Hi Sumyanna, thanks for this wonderful and powerful piece of writing, what a stimulating story. Interestingly it was one of my English teachers in junior school that got me writing, and we stayed friends ever since, so that he was my best man when I got married, and his speech came in the form of a poem, which was incredible. This took me back to those days where I to had no voice, and was teased merciless, because I was different, being dyslectic, and writing too became a voice and a way forward out of the wilderness of loneliness. Well written and thanks for sharing, best wishes and blessings, Charles. 🙂
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I have two children with Dyslexia (and they are also writers) so I know exactly what you mean. That support is ever so important for all of us. So glad we share something in common, because it is always nice to hear when teachers made all the difference in the world. I, unfortunately – moved away from where I went to school and lost contact with my teacher, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I do not think of him. I actually wish I could find him 🙂 So glad you kept in contact with yours. So glad you found writing – and that writing found you.
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Yes, this is quite extraordinary, few understand the exact nature of this problem. Many have said to me that I have overcome the problem. I point out that even though I was a librarian for more than 20 years, and am also a writer and a voracious reader, I have learned how to minimize the dyslexia one never gets rid of it. For instance if it weren’t for spell check, my writing would be meaningless to most people because of all the spelling mistakes. When really tired I can not read, as I can not see anything other than black and white patterns on the page, not even the smallest words translate into anything intelligible. It is fantastic that your 2 children have also become writers, you must be very proud of them. Am likewise very pleased that you are a writer and that I can follow your incredibly interesting and well written blog, best wishes and blessings, Charles.
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Yes, it is something they will never outgrow. However, I have tried my best to teach them how to do things they were “taught” they couldn’t do and also tried to make sure they celebrated their other gifts. Each of us has them. It is not easy, but I am really fortunate that they listened. When my children are tired or if they are sick, they often have the same problems – their focus gets more difficult. Thank goodness, we know this – so we work within our abilities. It makes it easier that they are home with me. I think that the world misses out on a lot of wonderful thinking when we don’t reach out and teach children the way they learn. To know they have a disability does not define them. They are capable of many great things. It is our thinking that is skewed. Thank you so very much for your wonderful comments – and thank you so much for being a shining light to kids out there – that yes! a Dyslexic can do these things.
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Hi Sumyanna, sorry that i have taken so long to reply, but fell asleep, as it was already after 1 am in the morning here, and last night fell asleep before I could get to the computer. I was diagnosed quite late (I was already a teenager, and there were no teachers available, so the specialist gave my mother crash course in helping me, and so my mother worked with me, until outside help became available, so he understood, and helped a lot. My father never really understood, and was always rather disappointed, and treated me often as a bit of a dimwit who would never achieve anything, but in the end admitted I had achieved a lot. To help, my mother gave up a lot, only after my sister and I left home did she go back to playing music, and being an artist and a very creative person. I saw a wonderful Bollywood film about a dyslectic boy, which was very good and very moving (couldn’t help shedding a few tears). I don’t remember the title, but it came out about 15 years ago. They showed it on TV out here, and I watch it with my wife Genevieve, who thought it was a good film, but did not really pick up on some of the very interesting dyslectic nuances in the film. I do tell most people that I am dyslectic, so that they do not fine me by that disability. When in the army (we were forced to do national service) I always got the rhythm, and which foot to set off on wrong, causing chaos, one of the lieutenants asked why I was so bad, I said because I was dyslectic, he looked at me in horror and transferred me to a better camp immediately (I think he thought it was something that was contagious!) Enough it is time to go off to work. Best wishes and blessings, Charles.
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No worries! I promise I realize everyone has (or at least should have) a life 🙂 That is a good thing! My oldest daughter found out when she was in fifth grade. We only knew because her sister had more difficulty than she had and it worried us. I am glad we found out. She is a trooper – she has just always worked that much harder (still does). I am amazed at their resilience. I feel like I lost so many moments with her – had I only known sooner. I know it must have been difficult to find out so late, but also at least comforting knowing it all wasn’t you. Sometimes knowing there is a problem makes a huge difference in how you tackle it. Sounds like your mother worked very hard for you and I am glad for that. I have heard many stories of successful Dyslexics and there is always someone who stands behind them and gives them the strength to do things others thought not possible. Truly, sing her praises! I saw the movie – it is one of my absolute favorites. It is called “Like Stars on Earth” and every once in a while I get the kids to watch it with me. We need to realize that even in our difficulty, we are more fortunate than we could be.
Just know – it is not you that truly has a disability. In essence, it is only a different way of thinking and one, when praised properly, can truly achieve many great things. It is sad that as a society we do not see that, and instead teach to only one way of learning. Condemning or saying that something is broken – because a vacuum doesn’t cook your food like a microwave – is a bit backwards, I think and science has proven well enough that Dyslexics are quite intelligent but are simply wired differently. Perhaps, when we move our education system to praise all kinds of learning types (in word and deed) – we can see what is truly possible by mankind. Until then, perhaps we praise what is not praiseworthy and neglect what beauty has yet to be seen.
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Thanks, and yes, like you my mother was an amazing person, that maybe we all took for granted. I think education has become too focused on preparing one to be useful for business needs, where as it should really be more spiritually and creatively based, and promote harmony, rather than competition and end results. my sister, who is older than me also was dyslectic, and has moved off into the arts and craft movement out here. She too suffered a lot, and my father seemed to see her as being lazy and rather useless, which lead to several breakdowns by her. She was never properly diagnosed and helped by any one. I think my mother realized, and started training her with me, but stopped when I got a teacher. Best wishes and blessings, Charles.
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Yes, education keeps focusing on those goals and yet somehow they often are not successful. In our schools, they force so much writing on the students but they don’t teach them to enjoy it. It is all for making the grade on the tests. Someone needs to tell them that they are not successful – the testing scores prove it. Perhaps they need to do things a different way instead of always making the kids work harder with little rest. Strange, isn’t it?
Sorry to hear your sister’s struggle. I think it is hard sometimes for a parent to always be open-minded enough to see that there really is a problem It is often easier to think it must be that their child is lazy. I am only fortunate in that while my kids were struggling, I tried to see it from every point of view. I tried to understand what the struggle was – and eventually we found out about Dyslexia. Even getting them tested was a struggle as my husband was certain there was nothing wrong – they just needed to work harder. I am one fierce lady when it comes to my kids though and I would not take no for an answer. It is not that I care more, but I guess because I saw firsthand how they were struggling. Their father works and only hears about the problems, but rarely sees them. It must be hard.
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My mother, fortunately was also very fierce about my sister and I, she managed to force my father and the principal of my school to agree to me being tested. The Principal of the school said they would let me fail, or put me up to the next standard, until I was 15 and then send me to a trade school. Mother won, and i was sent to the state psychologist, who made me do mathematical problems for hours, and then draw something for him. Afterwards he made me sit in the corner behind my parents, and explained to them that I was a person of extremely low intelligence, who would never fit into society, and never be accepted by society, and therefore must spend the rest of my life in a state sanitarium. My mother was horrified and told him that we had gone to the circus, and one of the posters had not been taken down, and when I saw it up a few moths later I had asked whether the circus was back in town, which took more intelligence than he was granting me. He replied that my mother could do what she liked,but that is the recommendation that he was sending in. I saw the doctor a few months later who diagnosed me. I shudder to think how many poor souls ended up in institutions, just because they had a learning disability. My poor father was tough on us both, and seemed to believe that it was somehow his fault that we had ended up being less than perfect, as he explained it to others. He also was away working much of the time, often not even in the country, so we never saw him that much. He seemed to think that making us work harder would in some way help us. Teachers knew I had a problem called dyslexia (I have spelled this word wrong every time since this conversation began!) but did not really understand, so one of my teachers said to me just before I wrote my school finals, “Ah, Mr. Elffers, I am pleased to see you are playing more sport this year, at least that way you will be fit enough to make a good road sweeper next year. I believe that I found school rather boring, and struggled to see the relevance of the things I was being taught, I did way better at university where we actually had to think! In South Africa we have outcomes paced education, which somehow seems to miss the point, as it is still just regurgitating information in a parat way, and forcing children to write more and more, there is no room in this format for the child to grow and get truly involved in this universe. I must be up in 3 hours to get to work, so better be off to sleep! Best wishes and blessings, Charles.
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Your story brings me to tears. My oldest daughter felt the same. It is a tragedy that many people with learning differences face and it is a horrible one. It reminds me of the first documentary I got the kids to watch to learn more about Dyslexia. It was called “Journey Into Dyslexia.” It is a wonderful documentary but it WILL bring you to tears. So many famous people – who have made amazing accomplishments struggled horribly as children because they were misunderstood. So many of them made great achievements that others could not – and yet, they are brought to tears when they think of their childhood. It is so very sad. I cannot thank you enough for sharing your story with me. It means a lot.
In eighth grade, my daughter struggled with not getting enough support from her school. As her final project (before we left the school) she interviewed famous Dyslexics and created a website containing all her questions and their answers. It was her end of year project. She wanted to at least give her school something to think about. She even won an award in Literature for her work. It changed nothing with the school, but I felt my daughter really learned a lot and she felt she wanted to become an advocate for those with learning disabilities. Also, it taught her that sometimes having a voice makes all the difference in the world. I am so glad you are using yours!
I thought I’d share her website in case you ever get a chance. My daughter and I even wrote letters about our thoughts on the topic of schools needing to help students with Dyslexia more. I first want to say – you are under NO OBLIGATION to read it or anything. However, if it brings you comfort to know you are not alone – that is a good thing. Dyslexic Dreams
I think you have revived the idea that we need to do more to be advocates. I do realize that it makes a huge difference. My daughter is now in 10th grade and studying web design. She was going to do a project this summer and I think redoing her site is an important one. Perhaps we will also share more resources and links.
Oh, and never allow yourself to be disappointed about your spelling 🙂 I find that there is actually a great logic with which my children spell. It is more based on how words should be spelled based on true phonics sounds. It totally goes against the “this is a rule but there is always an exception.” As a non-Dyslexic, I completely understand why we have rules since most of our words come from other languages. However, if I had any difficulty learning them – I can truly see where it would be a struggle to understand where to even start in spelling. At the end of the day – what matters is that you are completely understood. I never count against anyone for spelling mistakes 🙂 What matters is the content of what they say.
I wish you well – and truly, I am ever so sorry for the pain that they have put you through. Know that you have gifts. You are no different than anyone else in terms of value. When you are wired differently, you see the world differently, but you are just as capable. I think the biggest devastation we have done as a society is to tell people different is a bad thing. We try not to understand it. You either get a stamp of approval or you don’t. How many people lost hope and lost purpose in that final assessment, and how has society paid a price from not allowing those people to thrive just like everyone else? It is sad.
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Very sad. I grew up despising the man’s world and every thing it stood for, and building a far more female like outlook on life. I withdrew into study, so that I would not have to face the world to often, and only really came out of my very shy self, when working in the libraries, where I helped many people in many ways. I noticed at school, for instance that many foreigners, were pushed aside, also because they were different, so I started to fit in with all sorts of different behaviors and ideas, and to learn through them. I went onto your daughters website, it was very impressive, I will read it at greater length,n when i have more time, I really loved her art work, and the song that it was set too. Perhaps one day I will try to write my autobiography, as a help to those who suffer. The real problem for many dyslectic people is that one tends to have such a negative believe in ones self and ones abilities, and this often holds one back. I have to stop myself all the time from thinking, oh no I will never be able to do this, when actually I can. My father always treated me as if I would be a problem to him, and never really achieve anything (in the mans world type view) and I think I helped many people live better lives, but yes I did not make much money doing that, but life has to be about more than financial earnings. Perhaps I am a “rich” soul! Best wishes and blessings, to you all, Charles.
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I can completely understand how you would feel that way. It is hard to be berated by someone who is supposed to love you and cherish you. It is too hard to make sense of. What makes me always wonder – is why people are so quick to judge negatively. For me, the minute I knew the kids were struggling, I was asking myself how can I do things differently to teach them. It was aggravating at times (I am not a saint, for sure) but in truth, I always believed in their potential. Why don’t other people see it that way? Why don’t specialists or schools do the same? I cannot get my head around it.
See, that was the conclusion I was hoping you would make! It was actually my first thought. He should write a book about his experiences to help others who struggle. They so desperately need to know they are not alone. It is horrible to think so and yet, I have heard many people say the same thing. It is hard to grow up having everyone (even people who SHOULD protect you and help you) say you are stupid. Every thing you do is seen through that lens. You cannot escape it. If no one is not telling you otherwise, I cannot imagine how difficult life would be. Fortunately, many had at least someone there for them, but even with that – how can you not hear those voices in your head every time you attempt something? It is a great travesty.
Please keep rewinding that narrative that tells you that you are worth something – you have a voice that deserves to be heard. I, for one, am also a survivor of a different kind, but I do know the importance of that narrative. It is what keeps you going. Sometimes – you just have to push yourself, close your eyes and hope for the best. I mean, it could not really be worse, could it? I know how you feel though, so I do sympathize. I think that is exactly why I homeschooled my children. I wanted to make sure they grew up knowing how valuable they are. I did not want ANYONE to tell them otherwise. I guess it was just my own experiences pushing me to give them what I did not have. I cannot say that they walk with a swagger or that they feel invincible (we are human, after all), however – they have been able to do things that the experts say they should not (reading and writing) simply because I never told them they could not. I held their hands and said, “let’s try.” I just wish more of us could do that for our children. They so desperately need it – and you would think we would remember our own childhoods and how much it meant to us. Somehow, we easily forget – and some assume it builds strength of character, but truthfully – why would anyone want to be built up in such a way (with others tearing you down)? I don’t understand it.
I think we have seen many examples in our lives where money was not of much use to the person who owned it. It matters more what imprint you make on those around you – it is how meaningful you decide to make your life be, I think, that matters more. We all have choices. Sometimes money or status is just a distraction from making life meaningful – as people are still in the pursuit of those things to worry about what differences they can make. Not all – but definitely many…
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I think your children have a wonderful mother. Back in 1990, there was a terrible drought, and we were voting in a referendum as to whether the country should carry on towards the democratic election, or whether we should turn back. The turn backers, seemed to be getting stronger, and bombs were going off all over the place. I had a subscription to the London Review of books, and I got the newest one in the post and opened it. My eye fell on a small advert, which said writing holiday on the Greek Island of Kos, I phoned immediately, as the date was in 3 weeks time, so I phoned a number in Edinburgh (I lived in Johannesburg at that time) and asked for Denis, only to have the voice saying yes this is Denise, so I went on the 2 week holiday and produced a huge amount of great work, quite a lot Denise published in her magazine. At the end poet Thom Nairn, who I had struck up a great friendship with said, I came here able to spell rarely well, but now I invent new words and my spelling is terrible, and thanked me! I went on the trip as all my work, including some of those publishing by Thom and Denise, had been rejected in South Africa, and I thought, well this will tell me whether I am any good or not. I grew tremendously as a person, and began to have some believe in myself. (I had been writing poetry since 1974). I think it is very easy for a person suffering from a children’s learning problem to end up on retaline, or to just withdraw into their own world, wondering if they can do things or not. I think teaching your children the way you are, gives them lots of opportunity to grow within themselves, and to escape from the limiting world of school, and to find their own talents and to thrive, so well done. Through hard work and an open mind and heart, I have been privileged enough to help many people and touch many lives, yet people look down on me because I am different, and am apparently poor.
I think society needs to change, there have to bee better ways at looking at worth, look at what great work, many people including teachers, nursing staff, librarians, police, fire fighters etc. do yet they are very badly remunerated and looked down on, yet stock brokers and directors of companies get huge salaries and are looked up to, there is definitely something wrong here, even in the way people look at women and house wives, who after all are the first educators for our children. Something has to change.
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What an amazing moment that must have been. I can only imagine, but wow. So wonderful that you had that and the support of friends as well. I am so glad that you did not allow your experiences to make you grow cold. It is easy to do. Sometimes things are unfair, but there is so much good we can be capable of. It is a blessing, sometimes – to be a blessing to others, if you know what I mean. It matters a lot.
I completely agree that we have our priorities mixed up. It is rather senseless that we pay people less to teach the skills that prepare our kids for the well-paying jobs. If you want good teachers, you need to give them incentives. Instead, we often get people who are unhappy to teach because they would rather work somewhere but cannot find a job doing what they really want to do. Not always – but I have met my fare share. There are so many people that are undervalued, it is sad. Something does need to change, but I don’t know if we are willing or truly capable of sacrificing some things for the greater good.
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I have always felt that my experiences and problem youth, created the person that I am, so though I despair at some of the things I had to endure, those very things made me. Who knows if I did not have these experiences I might have ended up being some one like Donald Trump (cringe cringe!) and that would have been terrible.
Societies do not change easily, and it is often not in peoples interest to have change. My wife Genevieve, is always hoping and looking for change (she is a retired lawyer), but still says things like , no you can’t ware that, it is not business like. So I have gone from a very different dresser, and quite colourful, to look like any other business man. A step forward?! Best wishes and blessings, Charles.
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You are not alone in those sentiments. They made us who we are – and though sometimes painful in remembrance, we would choose to be no other way 🙂
Sounds like Genevieve is a keeper 🙂 I hate to say it but I love her by her name alone. I took French classes in high school and my best friend took the name Genevieve. Her name gives me good memories.
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Genevieve was born in Quebec, and so her parents christened her using the only French woman’s name they could think of. It is a beautiful name, and she is a wonderful person , who has also suffered much, and confounded all by becoming a Lawyer and helping out the poor. We met in Johannesburg, where we were both working, as we could not get work in Cape Town. We came back to Cape Town and got married when we were both 50! and she could not get a job, so she is very aware that should I loose this job, our finances would be very tight. i tried French, but was even worse at it than I was at English, so stopped it after a year. I ques one of us has to be practical, and have our feet on the ground. This certainly not me, I am full of dreams and ideas, but need someone to keep me from getting lost. Actually, even though I can type fast, my brain is often way ahead of what I am writing, and in this way lots of great ideas, rhythms and rhymes are lost, but often found again some time later.
Though most of the memories are not great, I do have in among all the horrid memories, some really wonderful warm memories, even some very funny memories, and I am sure that many can say the same. Best wishes and blessings, Charles.
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Wonderful – I visited Quebec once. It was nice, but I remembering most people did not like to speak English back then. I studied French long enough to start dreaming in French, but stopped after a few years of college.
Oh, you describe me as well as yourself. Head in the clouds and ideas constantly churning. It is not necessarily bad – but sometimes we need to stay on track for the greater good. It is good though, that we have an opportunity to express those ideas in some way. Don’t know what I would do without being able to write at least some of the time. Makes me wonder what I will do when I retire 🙂 I don’t know if that will ever happen though – I seem to always find projects to keep me busy.
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I may be forced to retire in a years time, but also have lots of projects, so we will see what happens. I seeming dream in no particular language, but rather in images that eventually tell a story. Focus is perhaps a problem for me, as my brain wonders all over the place.
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Oh, at least in my presence – never feel the need to make excuses for how you think. It is a blessing. It is a blessing. No matter how misunderstood. We need to learn to embrace the gifts we have been given. What I can do – perhaps you cannot do, but what you can do, I just don’t have similar gifts. Be thankful you are using them for a good purpose 🙂
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True, but sometimes be more focused is a wish, so that I can finish things, before scurrying off into something else.
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I could not agree more – however, being a person who does not have Dyslexia but does have ADHD – I see that there are benefits and deficits from all kinds of learners and personalities. If I did not scurry off – I would not be able to do so many things well. I have many interests so I never grow tired of things. It makes life more interesting. However, it is always good to have someone to ground you and remind you there are things that must get done. My husband does that for me and I assume your wife does the same. It is a good balance 🙂
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Yes, for the every day things, but not for my personal projects, so I have many pieces that I have started, and never finished as I have gone on to other projects. At the moment I am revisiting a lot of these pieces and finishing them, rather than writing new stuff. Some of the pieces have taken completely new directions, as I have moved on since having those ideas and feelings. Some I have completely rewritten, and some I have finished as I had originally meant. I am finding this quite helpful and quite relaxing, as if it is removing some kind of a huge weight off my shoulders. Best wishes and blessings, Charles.
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Wow, brilliant, I love your writing 🙂
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Thank you very much!
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Your welcome 😊
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A lot of wisdom in your post. I wonder if your teacher had any idea what a tremendous gift was given in the one sentence. That alone shows the power of writing.
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What is sad is that right after that, I graduated and moved to another state. Had I been smart, I would have kept in contact with him but had things going on at home that distracted me from that. I feel bad – and wish I could thank him every day for the gift he gave me. Yes, the right words make all the difference in the world.
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