She came with a diagnosis. Don’t they all? To me, a diagnosis is something to explain why someone is different. So we can put these beautiful children in a tidy spot. So we can explain it away.
But, aren’t we all different? Hair color. Eye color. Physical makeup. Thoughts. Ideas. Feelings. Foods we like and dislike. Jobs we like to do and don’t like to do.
The way we learn.
We all learn differently. Does that make us worthy of a diagnosis? For a reason to say you can’t instead of you can?
Sure, a diagnosis can help. But it also can hurt.
She came with a diagnosis. They say she can’t read. That she never will. They say, these people of science, of facts and tests, that she can only go so far.
Her mom didn’t believe it. Neither did I.
I’ll sink my jaws in and never let go until she can read. Until she can write and do math. At least enough to get a job when she grows up. Maybe even go to college.
It’s been done before.
Oh beautiful child, don’t listen to them, and neither will I.
You can do anything you want.
I believe in you. And, I promise, I won’t stop until you reach your goals.