By Judy Vorfeld
Have you ever noticed society's tendency to make fun of people in the
public eye who may have some form of what we refer to as a learning
disorder (LD)? These critiques include the way people speak, pronounce
certain words, or respond on an ad lib basis, etc. If the speakers
don't follow the "norm," we often see or hear the slightest suggestion
of stupidity. Or dullness.
Many famous people have (or had) attention deficit and learning disorders.
This includes Leonardo da Vinci, Whoopi Goldberg, Albert Einstein, Edward
James Olmos, Walt Disney, Cher, William "Bill" Hewlett, and Stephen J.
Cannell.
If someone shows the symptoms of--say--Tourette's Syndrome, it's clear
that there are neurological issues involved. But what about the more
invisible issues faced by many people? Famous or not. And those who speak,
write, test, and receive information differently than the "norm"?
Let's talk about me. Early on, I tested with a fairly healthy IQ. But I
could never believe that was valid because of the way my mind and body
functioned. Or refused to function. I lacked perfect coordination. I had
problems with lengthy verbal instruction. As a young person, I equated
intelligence with great physical coordination and the ability to speak
and respond quickly and clearly on any subject.
I've since learned a few things. Many intelligent people, including me,
can't always articulate their thoughts well on a spontaneous basis. When
I was in school, I also had a frustrating time with homework. I dreaded
tests, especially those that were given verbally.
Because of issues like these, I was not an "A" student. So I chose,
sometimes, to be a clown. I drew attention away from my disabilities by
being lighthearted. Silly. I didn't think in terms of disabilities: I
just knew I wasn't like most other people. I disliked physical education
classes and participation in sports. I usually failed at eye-hand games
like ping pong, tennis, and softball. It wasn't that people made fun of
me: I made fun of myself.
Don't get me wrong: I also had a lot of fun in school. (I still have fun!)
I was drawn toward musical and dramatic activities, school politics, and
peer groups. I could memorize music and dialogue flawlessly. But forget
dancing. I shouldn't say that: I could waltz well.
I was convinced that I'd never make it through college, and I didn't.
(How wonderful that today there are so many technological tools to help
people who process information with difficulty. And determination helps!)
Later, in the workforce, I learned to always take notes when someone gave
verbal commands of any length. That's still true.
I've been involved in many community organizations, and have even led
some. I'm not always quick on my feet. If someone suddenly confronts me
in a negative way, I need a few moments (or longer) to be able to see
the issue with balance. Sometimes I need to sit quietly and analyze a
discussion before I have something concrete to contribute. I often
envied people whose minds and conversations go at the speed of light.
In conversations, I sometimes think ahead. My mind moves to the next
subject before the speaker is finished with the current subject. And if
I get in a hurry (that's one of my gifts), I might just trip over my
tongue.
My life is, then, influenced by the way my brain processes information.
I often think in kind of a matrix, and I often think in pictures. How
have I overcome many of my challenges? That's a different story for a
different time.
My point? I've seen too much ridicule of people in the public eye who
have some type of learning disorder. When we listen to leaders who are
in ad lib situations, we need to focus on issues, not delivery. It's
healthy to disagree with what a person says, but it's not okay to
criticize that person's inability to communicate like Walter Cronkite,
Larry King, or Barbara Walters. I recommend we give grace to people
when it comes to presentation.
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