David McLoughlin’s fascinating lifespan perspective on dyslexia.
People who have dyslexia are adults for considerably longer than they are children. Over a forty-year career I have conducted thousands of diagnostic assessments, starting with children who were having trouble learning basic skills to doctors who have not been able to pass Royal College examinations. I have learned more about dyslexia from the adults than I have from children, as the adults are able to articulate what they find difficult, as well as the social-emotional consequences. As a psychologist I operate on the scientist practitioner model, with a strong commitment to evidence-based practice. But working with adults confirms research findings, and it raises questions about the nature of dyslexia and its impact over the life course.
The scientific evidence for a genetic link in dyslexia is now overwhelming. This is reinforced by the number of people who were diagnosed in childhood or later and are seeking to have their own children assessed. It is not unusual for adults who have been tested to raise concerns about their children. Because of their experiences parents can be keen to identify any problems their child might have as soon as possible. Like many teachers, they are keen on early identification rather than the ‘wait and see how badly they fail’ approach adopted by those whose job it is to allocate resources. It is not a reading or spelling difficulty that is inherited but a blueprint that is modified by experiences such as good teaching.
The key to identification at all ages is inconsistency, for example the child who has good spoken language skills but is struggling with the basics of reading and spelling, or the doctor or engineer who has succeeded with university studies but finds professional examinations or promotion to a new job role more demanding than expected. Formal assessment can provide objective evidence of the inconsistencies. It should show what people are capable of, provide an explanation for why tasks are difficult, and lead to individualised rather than ‘one size fits all’ solutions. Assistive technology and mind maps don’t work for everyone.
We often assume that we understand what it’s like not being able to read, but it’s when someone who is illiterate says ‘thank you for not judging me’ that the impact hits home. Not being able to read accurately means people are dependent on others and constantly embarrassed. Imagine having to ask your impatient teenage son or daughter to read domestic paperwork to you. Problems with literacy do not necessarily persist, particularly if appropriate teaching is provided early on. Technology has also provided alternatives for those who continue to find reading, writing and spelling difficult, but even this requires some level of literacy. But to think of dyslexia as a reading or spelling problem is like thinking of chicken pox as spots rather than an invisisble virus.
I understand dyslexia to be an information processing problem that is neuro-biological in origin. It is this that persists and continues to undermine performance. There is ample evidence from neuroscience and cognitive science to support this, but those of us working with people who have dyslexia are often well aware of the effects beyond literacy. Lower order processes such as phonemic awareness can undermine the development of reading skills, but the interactive dynamics of the brain are such that lower order weaknesses have an impact on higher order executive functions such as organisation and time estimation, not just literacy.
To fully understand the ongoing needs of individuals, we need to place dyslexia and its effects in the context of transitions—those times in life when demands increase. Most of us develop the skills we need to face new demands automatically, but people who have dyslexia need to work harder and more deliberately on ensuring they have those that are required, so interventions should consider the future as well as the present. Many people who have dyslexia learn to read accurately, for example, but find reading comprehension, the most important reading skill, more difficult than others. Being able to read aloud nicely becomes less important than being able to gain lots of information quickly. As does being able to learn independently, manage time, plan and organise themselves. It would be best if these skills were taught prior to the transitions so people are well prepared, and one of the functions of a good assessment should be enabling people to anticipate what might be difficult in the future.
The most important skill we can teach those who have dyslexia, both children and adults, is how to advocate for themselves in a constructive fashion, providing solutions not problems. Leaving others to interpret what dyslexia means won’t make it better understood, but ‘I read very thoroughly so I need longer’ might.