by Melissa Brown

Created on: May 04, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

REALLY SPECIAL KIDS

I didn't have to repeat any grade except for kindergarten, and that was only because I was a year too young to start kindergarten in Texas. At five years old, in 1953, I probably wasn't ready for the kindergarten in St. Louis, but I did qualify. Moving to Texas was a different story. I was too young for the first grade, so I was put into kindergarten again.

Actually, Now that I think about it, I probably should have been held back a year in the first grade. I really had a huge struggle with reading and math. I believe that I was passed from one grade to another just by the skin of my teeth, because I begged so pathetically not to be held back. There were so many distractions. There were also labels attached to me, like "Class Clown", "Day Dreamer", "Easily Distracted", "Trouble maker" and yes, "Mildly Retarded"; and all because they didn't know anything about Attention Deficit Disorder or Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. There were no special classes at that time; nothing to help a kid get caught up. I wanted badly to do well, but something was in my way. I knew that there was a lot of good stuff going on in my brain, but there was no way for anyone else to see that. What the teachers and my parents saw was a big problem, and that I'd probably never do well. What a huge misconception.

By the time junior high school rolled around, my parents decided to believe the part about Mildly Retarded, they seemed to have no hope that I would ever do better scholastically. They decided that it was better to just "protect me", rather than allow me the same growing up experiences that my older sister had. They invented reasons to ground me, with the attachment of chores, rather than deal with the problem at hand because they didn't know how. This made me extremely rebellious, and I graduated from high school by a hair's width. I had the capability, but no one really knew how to tap into it, or to help me dig in to this valuable asset in my mind. People with this sort of blockage (for lack of a better word at this moment) learn to be very clever, fake it and charm their way to where ever they need to be at that time.

There were a few really, really great teachers who recognized that I probably needed some one on one direction, and had faith that I had what it took to make the grade. My fourth grade teacher was also my art teacher seemed to have the first key that would get me going. There were others who had faith in my ability. Also, it seems that

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