I wish to respond to recent articles about a new dyslexia program and one about not sharing some uglier parts of American History.
When I was a little girl and just learning my spelling words I would practice at home. I would write out my words 10 times each. My mother would test me on them and I would always miss a couple so she would test me again and I would miss different words. Even though I was just a little girl she thought I was being obstinate (that didn’t happen until my teen years, ha ha) so for me not being able to spell was just my norm.
Many years later when I was in a college science class my teacher sent me to the learning center. He said I could always answer the questions verbally with no problem, but I just got as close as I could when writing them. At the learning center I passed my dyslexia test with flying colors. Ironically I love to write and have been the recipient of numerous grants to support my educational projects, but I know I’m never going to win a spelling bee.
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My parents were both born in Dallas. After my father finished his education he got a job at BGSU.
My grandmothers were from Louisiana and Virginia and they both married and moved to Texas, so the South is part of my heritage.
After having spent five years in Bowling Green my parents decided they wanted to be closer to their families and my father took a job in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. We had separate drinking fountains and restrooms, different grocery stores, and neighborhoods, of course, and crosses burning in the highway’s median.
I was in my third grade class when President Kennedy was assassinated. All the kids in the class stood up and clapped.
If I am not allowed to share these real life experiences when teaching in an American History class studying this period, how can we ever learn from our mistakes?
Wynn Perry
Bowling Green
