Written by Shawna Wingert of Not the Former Things.
My youngest son is nine years old. He is technically in the third grade. He loves animals, building structures in the woods, and jumping on our trampoline as often as possible.
He can do complex math in his head, and knows more about Ancient Greece than I do.
He is also unable to read even the most basic book.
He shies away from any activity that he thinks might possibly have anything to do with reading, including Sunday School, homeschool co-op classes, and has even asked me not to read aloud to him anymore at night.
My son has repeatedly said, over and over again, that he wants to learn to read, but not with books.
I believe my response has always been something like, “No way Jose. We love books in this family. You have to learn to read with books.”
My son is profoundly dyslexic. He wants to read – desperately. He has been asking for years to learn. This is not about reluctance. It is about his brain’s ability to decipher and comprehend the code we call the English language.
And the more he has tried and failed, the more I have researched and read books about dyslexia, and the more I have freaked out and pushed harder.