Diversity and Inclusion Matters

Chapter 17Jason-isms

The Gift of Time

I am not much of a book reader. I don't read many books because I am dyslexic and reading takes a lot of effort.

As a kid, I was a terrible reader, and I never could sound-out words. In fact, I would often need to have the same word read to me over and over. Those who helped me, primarily my brothers, would say to me, “I just told you that word.” In my mind, it was a new word every time. It then became apparent to me as a child that the only way I was going to read was to memorize what words looked like. I memorized words the way you know a stop sign. Everyone knows the shape of a stop sign without sounding out the word on it. As a result, I read every word based on what it looked like and could not spell to save my life. Having to memorize what words looked like was a very long process since I was about nine when I began doing it, and it took a lot of repetition.

One of my most vivid memories of learning to read was of my father helping me. It was on a Friday night because my dad was in a bowling league, and he always took a shower before leaving. For some reason I was attempting to read a book. This was always a challenge because my brothers would get tired of helping me. I would not use my mother because she was not really able to help me. (My mother was born and raised in Japan, and she had limited English fluency.) My two older brothers were very nice, but they would get tired of me, so I would have to limit the number of times I asked ...