One time in class, I cried about the injustice of being dyslexic in this world. My teacher told me that she was going to make me a writer. She told me to pace around her classroom and talk to her about all the things I wished I was able to write over the years. She put the power back in my hands to be able to articulate myself using words, and I had gone my whole life without ever experiencing that.
One time in class, I cried about the injustice of being dyslexic in this world. My teacher told me that she was going to make me a writer. She told me to pace around her classroom and talk to her about all the things I wished I was able to write over the years. She put the power back in my hands to be able to articulate myself using words, and I had gone my whole life without ever experiencing that.
