And then he came … Mr. Harris.  Yes, that’s right tortured for two years by Miss. Harris and then rescued and restored by Mr. Harris.  It’s probably important to note at this point that they were definitely not related. 

We all have one of these teachers, don’t we?  If not - I am terribly sorry for you because everyone deserves that one teacher.  Basically Mr. Harris “got” me and he chose to celebrate my differences whereas Miss. Harris had only ever tried to extract the difference out of me.  She hoped ultimately that I would turn out the same shape as the ‘normal’ kids, she was dreaming.

He was very young, probably in his late twenties and he taught me in a way that nobody else has ever been able to recreate.  As you know I am dyslexic and so the bottom line is that the conclusion the optometrist came up with in the room of nakedness was correct.  I do see and perceive things differently from other people. 

Its actually what makes us dyslexic’s great interior designers, set decorators, artists etc.  We see stuff differently - almost from a different angle to you.  I recently watched a video where they interviewed a young boy of eight who has known he was dyslexic since the age of four (what would that be like?). He referred to being dyslexic as his SUPER POWER and I love that those who walk behind me are celebrating our weird brains and letting them loose!

Like those of my kind I now recognize and acknowledge that I am not stupid, I am simply different.  I literally take in information in ways the majority of the population does not. 

For whatever reason the way Mr. Harris taught and the way I learn aligned perfectly.  I can tell you a few things I remember learning in Miss. Harris’ class that droned on for two years but I could fill volumes with what I learned from my one year with Mr. Harris. 

In fact, I still remember and repeat some of his ‘non lessons’ to myself as mantras’ when I find myself in a difficult place.  These are the precious things he never said out loud but which came through with the volume dialed up to eleven just so I could hear them. 

They said things like – you are perfect just the way you are and don’t try to conform to the norm, embrace and celebrate your werid little brain.

When I think about that year (which also felt like a lifetime, but this time in a good way) I imagine myself like a small deflated balloon from a children’s party.  It started off pretty, red and stretched to its capacity but after two years of intense pressure the air had started to leak out and it became deflated, wrinkly and slightly pink in hue. 

Mr. Harris had me back to my ultimate balloon shape and hue in no time and furthermore I am pretty sure he inserted some helium in there for good measure 😊

I have just searched for my report cards and I laid out the last one for Miss. Harris and one from Mr. Harris side by side.  It’s quite a picture.

Its worth noting that I have issues with words and numbers in both. However, all the other boxes with Mr. Harris say VG for very good whereas Miss Harris's state VF for very fair.  How can a child change so much in just one year?  It’s all about the teacher, right?

The other thing I had to read and then re-read is this – Miss Harris says “Speaks too quietly” under oral expression.  It’s fair to say that is the first and last time anyone would say that about me.  I am usually very audible and I tend to use my hands when I talk for emphasis.

It was my last report card in her class and apparently, she had beaten me down to the extent that I spoke quietly.  Its mind blowing.

Thank the Lord for Mr. Harris!  Wherever you are please know that I think of you often. Thank you for accepting me just the way I was and for telling me I could do anything I set my mind to.  You were right.