Dear Parents,

THE CHILD WHO WAS A 'POOR STUDENT'.

When I was one, I just begun,
When I was two I was really new
When I was three I was hardly me,
When I was four, I was not much more,
And when I was five, I was just alive -
And then...

I was six, and seven and eight and nine, and I was meant to do special things, expected of me from my parents, my teachers, my friends and every other human being I experienced during those growing years. However, in spite of my best intentions this was just not happening. Try as I would, my scores in school were what grown ups would term as 'appalling'. My mother would spend hours with me, teaching me how to add, subtract and write words like CAT, BAT, RAT properly - I would understand it all and apply it, only to be told that I was repeating silly mistakes and not concentrating. My teachers at school had categorized me as a "problem child" or a "weak student" and this went on.

I was a problem child and I resigned to the fact that every time I would put pencil and paper together, I would have to prepare to hear the same angry, upset, and resigned words from anyone who would read it. Thinking back now I realize how traumatic that was. Writing anything for me was a nightmare. My heart would pound at the thought of what was going to happen after I had written. But I would just grit my teeth and continue to write. At least by doing that I could delay the trauma of being reprimanded afterwards and also when one is immersed with paper and pencil, one is allowed to do so without being disturbed. It is a good way to blend in with the rest of the class, busy doing the same thing - even if it is just for a few minutes. It was at this time that I got used being alone. I had no friends who would not make fun of me, so I spent long hours in my room - either painting or making puppets out of card and cloth. I could talk to these puppets and they could talk to me - without being unpleasant. The idea of making puppets came from a picture book on crafts, which my mother had given me. My moments of joy would come from creating puppets and performing magical puppet shows for my family.

On one very lucky and fateful day in my life, when I was nine years old, my mother decided to go through my math's copybook - and look past the large red circles on every page. I had added up ten and three as thirty-one. I had subtracted nine from nineteen as six. Sometimes I had subtracted ten from twenty-five as thirty-five. There was a pattern she discovered. I was doing it all logically in my head, but the problem was when I wrote it out. I would often write the numbers in the opposite order - i.e. instead of twenty-one, I would write twelve or I meant to write nine, and I had written six. Sometimes instead of adding I would subtract - but that was a common error many a child would make. In my English copybook, the situation was the same - the words had come to my brain, only I would sometimes arrange the alphabets in the reverse order, or write 'p' instead of 'd' or confuse it with 'q' or I would write the other alphabets in reverse, quite like the way a mirror would show their reflection.

What prompted my mother to investigate all this was an article on 'Learning Disabilities', which she had come across in one of her Woman and Home magazines. I had something that was called 'Dyslexia'. I went to the Center for Remedial Education in Bombay, which my mother and aunts traced with much difficulty, It was the only such place in India at that time, and two entrepreneurs had started it after having trained abroad.

I remember my life so clearly from that point onwards, because, I finally knew that it wasn't 'me' who was wrong, but it was the world of adults who for generations had worked on a system of logic and communication, and it was taking me some time to get used to it. Knowing this gave me a strange but amazing inner strength - a restored faith in myself and the rest of the world. I could comfortably make mistakes, and learn from them, rather than being terrified of them. My world of puppets began to become special. It was a space where I could create and tell stories confidently. I began to perform these for the family and for the servant's children in the neighborhood. It became an interesting way to communicate with people. I could not only articulate my fantasies, but share them too. And so today, I am not only a 'well adjusted adult' but I also teach Puppetry and Visual Communication Courses at a University in Delhi.

The one thing I have believed in since I was nine, is that every individual is closer to God than we realize, and just understanding that makes it possible for us to make our lives, and our children's lives more comfortable. As we grow into adults we take so much for granted, especially the established systems of communication and logic. As children move into this intimidating system through education, adults forget to be gentle with them. Some children take less time to get used to it, others take a little more, and that's ok. What makes it more difficult for the children who take longer is the constant pressure adults put them under, almost as if their minds had an expiry date on them. When I make puppets, some dry faster and others take longer. The ones that take longer to dry are just as good as the ones that dry quicker.

When I ask my mother now, about how she had felt during that time, she admits she was worried - was it her fault that I had turned out like this? There is this additional pressure as a parent to 'prove' that their children are as normal as other children. My mother for one realized that the need of this proof came from completely denying the fact that every child was unique and had its own inherent quality that would make it grow into a unique adult.

Even today, I take my time to get used to new systems. I explore them and analyze them in my own way. I make several mistakes, and then I plod on. I might have to make and remake a puppet several times, before I can do any justice to its character or movement - though I must admit, it's easier now - I get praised for it, they call it "being insightful" and sometimes they will say "You are so open to any experience, you understand everything so much better!" Then I smile and say the same words in my heart to every child who is earnestly trying to cope with adult human mechanisms of thought, expression, and control.

Some children might be pressured by the sheer volume of school work and a succession of instances where he has not achieved one of the top five ranks might simply make him feel helpless and "not good enough" and thereby kill his self-worth and inherent potential for excellence. So before you jump to assume that your child's "poor" performance arises out of a learning disABILITY go through all the factors affecting your child and be aware of your own expectations as a parent. An unnecessary label can be extremely difficult for a child to understand and accept, because to add to his already poor school performance, the label could stigmatize him further and make him feel that something is inherently 'wrong' with him. The worst possible thing that happens to children is a feeling that they are 'bad' or 'wrong'. As a parent only you can make him feel that whatever his school grades are, he is always special and important.