2 mothers, 2 kids, 1 diagnosis: Money makes the
difference
Struggle to read often frustrating to child, parent
By CHALLEN STEPHENS
Times Staff Writer
challens@htimes.com
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Some days, Julie Harp will ask her daughter about a test. Hannah will
say she knew all the answers. She will dig in her bookbag to show her
mother the paper. But when she finds the test, she will let slip a faint
"ohhh" as her face falls.
Most times, Julie Harp lets her daughter, 9, throw those tests in the
trash. Hannah doesn't like to be reminded that she is different from the
other children. Hannah, like so many dyslexic children, has trouble
putting what she knows on paper.
For Hannah, writing takes time. Letters are flipped, words are
reversed, sentences haven't always been spaced well. The letter S
consistently appears as the numeral 2.
Two years ago, Julie Harp paid $250 to have her daughter
tested for
dyslexia at an outside agency. She took the diagnosis to Hannah's
elementary school in Decatur. There she heard what so many parents hear:
Dyslexia is not officially recognized by Alabama public schools.
"Dyslexia
is not considered a learning disability. Therefore there is
not anything they want to do to help her," said Harp. "The child, she is
smart. There are so many things she can do. But she's drowning."
Hannah brings home a math test with the answer 41 circled. The correct
answer is 14. Hannah knew it, could say the answer aloud, but the teacher
marks the flipped version wrong. The low grades continue.
"What do you do? I've been on the Internet. You think, 'Oh, wow, this
looks really good.' And it's $4,000 or $5,000 for this program."
'He'll catch up'
Corbin Roth of Huntsville uses a ruler to point to the word endings on
the board. "F T says ffft," he announces. "L F says ulf." Every day, at
Huntsville's Greengate School for dyslexic students, he rehearses such
basic rules for one hour. He sits one-on-one with a tutor trained to help
him. He records his progress with the written word in a daily journal.
Corbin is only 7. But his story started much the same as Hannah's.
"We had noticed even before kindergarten," said his mother, Melinda
Roth. "Here's a kid who is being read to and played with and he doesn't
know the letters of the alphabet. Everybody said 'He's a boy, he'll catch
up.' "
At Hampton Cove Elementary, Roth said her son flunked the state test to
screen the reading ability of kindergartners. By Christmas, he could
barely recite half the alphabet and he had begun flipping letters, b for
d, p for q.
"The school's suggestion was that he do kindergarten again," said Roth.
Lead to headaches
Julie Harp caught on during Hannah's second time in first grade in
Athens. Because most teachers aren't trained to diagnose dyslexia, parents
must strike out on their own.
Julie Harp paid for a diagnosis from the private Dyslexia Center in
Decatur. This school year, she moved to Decatur and enrolled Hannah in the
second grade at Chesnut Grove Elementary.
Julie Harp doesn't blame the school. She said Hannah's teacher is kind,
but bound by rules. She said Hannah writes better in cursive, but students
aren't allowed to do that in second grade. Harp is frustrated and she
wants help for her daughter, who is already developing natural coping
mechanisms.
There are long-term implications beyond reading. Children with
dyslexia, left unaided, can lose self-esteem. At the local dyslexia
support group, parents say this leads to poor study habits, hatred of
school, even behavioral problems in class.
"I like reading," says Hannah. Her mother listens in disbelief. "I like
playing outside on the playground, science, reading," Hannah continues.
Hannah is shy about the very word dyslexia. Hannah is doing well at math
and she likes to draw.
But for her, reading can lead to headaches. Earlier, reading even
caused Hannah to be sick, said her mother. Hannah acknowledges this, but
brushes it off. Reading "is kind of hard," she says, "But not that hard."
Hannah goes outside to play with her sister and a friend. A short while
later, they are in the back of the house playing dress-up. Hannah has
fashioned a gold satin gown. Today, she is a princess.
Pulled from school
At Hampton Cove, Roth began to worry about wasted time. And she began
asking questions. She said the school told her it would take three to four
months just to test Corbin for special education. She said she met with
the principal and the gudiance counselor.
Before he could qualify for assistance, the teacher had to be given six
weeks to try to teach Corbin differently. As with Hannah or any student,
there would have to be committees and meetings and evaluations before
Corbin could be assigned to special education. The process takes months.
Corbin couldn't recall his phone number or birthday, but his mother
said he set up the game Mousetrap without instructions. Yet, he couldn't
rhyme words.
Researchers have established a genetic component of dyslexia. Hannah's
uncle has dyslexia. Corbin's grandfather had it.
"In March, I was desperate and I took him out of school," said Melinda
Roth.
Parent education
At one point, Julie Harp also took Hannah out of school. This is a
common crossroads for knowledgeable parents.
Harp said she worked with Hannah at home. "You only did it for three
days," said Hannah. Harp has five children and Hannah is the oldest.
Lately, Harp has been training herself, reading books like "The Gift of
Dyslexia" by Ronald Davis. Since then, she began using clay so Hannah
could sculpt and touch the letters of the alphabet. The sense of touch
helped Hannah's recall. Harp also reads with her daughter at the kitchen
table most days, encouraging Hannah to close her eyes and see the word.
Julie Harp is thinking about becoming a special education teacher.
No mention of D-word
Melinda Roth hired a private tutor while she worked with her son at
home.
She also had her son tested for dyslexia at the
Greengate School in
Huntsville. She continued to pursue options at Hampton Cove, eventually
having Corbin tested for special education three months after she pulled
him out. Corbin qualified for extra help from a special teacher in
language, reading and math services.
Amy Sledge, director of special education in Huntsville, said dyslexic
students are evaluated for reading deficiencies. When achievement scores
trail IQ scores, then children are given extra help in a special education
resource room, said Sledge.
At Hampton Cove, there was no mention of dyslexia.
"They all agreed with me he had a problem. They were just so bound by
the bureaucracy," said Roth "I can't blame them. It was very, very
frustrating."
Among slow learners
Special education advocates often cite Decatur as having one of the
better systems in North Alabama. But even there, services are governed by
federal rules.
"We function in special education under IDEA (the federal Individuals
with Disabilities Education Act)," said Bill Gilchrist, supervisor of
special education for Decatur City Schools. "There are identified
categories under IDEA. One of which is specific learning disability. There
is not a category called dyslexia."
Even though there's no category for dyslexia, Principal Loretta Teague
said Chesnut Grove tries to help every child no matter the difficulty or
designation.
"We sit down and put a plan in place. It's not like we ignore it. We
don't diagnose. But we do have a process and I don't want any child to
fall through the cracks."
Hannah went through the months-long process, starting with a review by
a team of teachers and administrators, moving onto a screening committee
and eventually qualifying for extra reading help through special
education.
Sometimes the special education teacher comes into Hannah's regular
class to help with reading. Other times, Hannah is pulled from the regular
classroom for extra reading work. But at those times, said Hannah's
mother, Hannah reads with children who are not dyslexic. Those children
may not learn the same way nor need the same help.
"They really need a specialized course for dyslexia," said Julie Harp.
Small classes
By the time Hampton Cove offered extra help for Corbin, Melinda Roth
had moved on. With directed tutoring at the Greengate School for dyslexic
children, she said, her son in one summer had memorized the alphabet and
started on multisyllable words.
At Hampton Cove Elementary, Principal Dale Kirch said she isn't
surprised at the success Corbin's had.
"I can't compete with a one-on-one or three-to-one ratio," said Kirch,
acknowledging the small classes at the private Greengate School. Kirch
added: "I do believe our system could have assisted the child."
Melinda Roth decided to enroll her son for first grade at Greengate.
The school, operating out of a church in downtown Huntsville, provides 14
teachers for 19 children. Each student has dyslexia.
"I see it as an advantage," said Greengate teacher Wendy Lenentine,
talking about classmates sharing the same difficulty. "They all know each
other. They all know what it's like to be called on and not know the
answer. They all know what it's like to feel dumb."
Corbin reads over the words drill and cliff, fluff and class. As he
says each letter, he points to a finger. "Good, what do you notice about
the words on this section," asks his one-on-one tutor, Jana Harris. Corbin
recounts the "floss rule," or how two like consonants at the end of the
word make one sound.
After a few more sentences, Harris stops to ask: "Does this help you?"
"Yeah, it does," says Corbin with an earnest look. He's a serious boy,
conscious of dyslexia, conscious of the fact that students here eventually
return to public schools. "When I got 6, they found out I was alexic," he
says. "Now I know how to read pretty good. I'm doing the ending blends."
Corbin still writes the letter "z" like a lightning bolt. But he says
he's eager to move from two syllable to three syllable words.
The price of help
Melinda Roth believes in Greengate School, where she, like many
parents, spends time as a volunteer.
"If I had listened to what the (public) school was saying I could very
easily have woken up with a fourth-grader who couldn't read," said Roth.
But Greengate costs $15,000 a year.
For Hannah, the school is out of reach. Julie Harp pulls out another
flier showing one week of dyslexia courses in California. The classes cost
$3,650 for five days. She's looked into local tutoring, but that's $350
each week for only two hours a day, twice a week.
"Who in the world can afford that?" she asks. "Everything that I get
hopeful about, that I think might help her, these are the price ranges I'm
looking at.
"It hasn't gotten better," says Harp. "If I could figure out anything I
could do to make any kind of difference, I'd be out there."
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