THE DYSLEXIC WEATHER OR NOT REPORT

Broadcasting  live from…somewhere in Vancouver

The Killer Spelling Bs

From the book called The Truth About Reading

The most degrading elementary school ritual for me was the spelling B.

Twice a week a bunch of cruel violent words would appear with there sharp little stinger ready for stabbing with the weekly spelling B.

They started on Monday to find out the words that I could not spell and then appeared again on Friday to prove to me that even when I tried my hardest all week to learn the words that I still could not spell them.

Each week they kept coming back just as you new they would and that there was no way to escape there attack To make it worse those violent words got bigger harder and more difficult as the years went by.

With each weekly swarming I felt a little bit dumber and learn to fear them a little bit more poke by poke.

Apart from reading out loud the spelling B still to this day make me fell upset even though I have the ability to make fun and laugh at myself.

If I had 3 wishes

Number one would have to be

A scribe to do the paper work that makes me feel crazy

If I had 3 wishes

The second is not doubt

A window to my brain to show what it is about

If I had 3 wishes

The last and best

Would be an education where we all can past the test

Tina H. McInerney

“I hate paperwork”

Tina McInerney

“That which does not kill us makes us stronger”

Friedrich Nietzsche

“If you are dyslexic why are you filling out the forms”?

A corporate clerk

At first I could not read

For the firsts 40 years of my life I could not read

Now I can read

At 39 my natural abilities were validated along with my feeling of failure. I lean to see what I was capable of and by using my natural abilities I discover a way to teach myself to read and write

What was wrong with me?

Nothing

And what fixed it?

Learning that different is not wrong and that I can read but I just do it in a different way

If you are not be the best at reading tell me what you can do at  but I can

D.u.n.c.e.

I really mind this word

It speaks so loud for me

That I can not be heard

D.u.n.c.e.

no longer used politely

nor toped upon your crown

the papers hat that told the world

that you were but a clown

D.u.n.c.e.

although it cuts right through me

i truly am outspoken

the letters changed nicely

once the appearance had been broken

Tina H. McInerney

Thursday, August 28, 2008 ™

by Tina McInerney

Christopher Gaze

Two Bees or Not 2Bs