I am Heather Litster. I am a woman, a daughter, a sister, a teacher, a friend and much more. I am also a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) thriver. I use the word “thriver” rather than survivor because when given the choice, I want to choose to thrive. I have a unique story related to TBI, namely because I lived for my first 21 years of life without knowing that I had one. Upon being diagnosed, I had two immediate thoughts. The first was a sense of relief, knowing that I now had a “why” for my challenges. The second was a realization that if I had come that far in 21 years, then maybe I could use my experiences to help others. That is what I hope to do with writing this article.
Looking back on my life, while I would have welcomed answers and resources such as understanding why I had rapid speech or having the possibility of being exempt from middle school algebra, ultimately; I would not change the course of my life. I came into this world determined, enthusiastic, and stubbornly independent. Since neither my parents nor myself had the expectation of what a TBI thriver would typically does/doesn’t do, I lived, and I lived fully.
Elementary School
At this point in my story, I want to explain that the years of being undiagnosed has no correlation with a lack of family support/resources available to me. Rather, I attribute it to my determined and independent nature and the trend of resources of schools in the mid-to-late 80’s. In my early school years, I had definite gaps in my learning. Medical professionals typically explained these gaps to my parents as variations of “She’s little. She’s the youngest of seven kids and she’ll catch up.”
Gaps included being able to read 6th grade books in the first grade, writing long stories but with highly illegible handwriting. I could count to 500 by 17’s but performed poorly with simple math computations, I also had highly dysfluent speech, severe anxiety and struggled with basic coordination skills such as shoe tying (which I did not master until the 3rd grade). I had poor motor coordination so playground games with required motor skills simply held no appeal for me.
I loved library time for the solitude of reading a book with no expectations but I hated recess time because of the pressure and anxiety involved. I had to navigate the steps of finding a peer to play with, hoping they would play with me, and then had to maintain that level of play for the duration of recess. Before my age and social norms dictated playground behavior, I often had close relationships with the adult playground aides, instead of my peers.
My parents worked hard to help me and support me such as having tutors coming to the house and giving consent for me to receive speech therapy and resource sessions at school. However, while the model I see in schools today is a much more inclusive, less disruptive model, at that time in my life it felt much more like being the only kid to leave class, go to a different place and then come back later, having missed out on time in my classroom. Whether it occurred or not, I continually feared that upon my return to class, kids would ask me questions about where I had been and what I had been doing and I would not know how to answer their questions. Also, while I believe that the special education service providers did their best to select the times when they would work with me, there were still occasions when I felt I had to leave during the “fun” times of school.
At times, the anxiety at elementary school became crippling. I recall my biggest fear in elementary school was being late to school. In my mind, being late meant standing up in front of the entire class, peers looking at me and everyone wondering/silently judging me for being late to school. I could not bear any possible unwanted attention. I also could not bear breaking any school rules. I cried not from being scolded for breaking school rules but because I had not been caught doing it.
Regarding children today who face the “what if” fears I recommend avoiding the standard answer, “Don’t worry about it.” When a child’s brain is full of concerning thoughts, simply being told “don’t worry about it,” does not automatically assuage fears. Rather, I would suggest explaining to a child specifically why they do not need to worry. For example, “You don’t need to worry about me picking you up late today because I set an alarm on my phone to help me remember.” Or, “You don’t need to worry about forgetting the steps during your dance recital because your teacher will be there in the audience to help you if you need it.” The additional information gives a child a concrete reason, something that they can hold on to when the worrying starts.
I believe that the Special Education providers I had were kind, caring people. However, I was also the shortest kid in class, I had glasses and not a lot of friends. I showed a lot of opposition to both my parents and providers. If my early elementary self could talk now, I imagine it would say something like, “I already felt SO different from everyone. I did not want to do anything that made me feel any more different.” I did not grow up in a “Practically Perfect Mary Poppins World” but I did grow up in a good world. Thankfully I did have individuals in my life who found a way through my highly defensive, independent armor. People such as my 1st grade teacher and dear family friend who allowed me to come in before school on Fridays with the opportunity to practice my handwriting but to do it without the stigma and fear of being singled out. I recognize that this is probably not a viable option today but that private practice meant a great deal to me.
I needed people with patience and endurance such as a great-aunt and RN who, during an out-of-state visit, spent an entire afternoon with me practicing my shoe tying until I had mastered it.
I also had the blessing of having a best friend in my cousin. We attended the same school, albeit a grade apart but we spent countless hours together outside of school doing anything and everything together. Because I had a best friend, I had a built-in someone to play with and ultimately it helped me forget about being lonely during other times.
My parents made opportunities available to me such as taking lessons in ballet, violin and piano. Unfortunately, I struggled more than I excelled at each of these. However, they and my family gave support to me in areas where I did shine such as writing and babysitting. In essence having opportunities to “feel like I was good at something,” – something that I believe every youth both needs and deserves.
I learned from elementary school that expectations really can be broken. No one would ever have voted for me to be “most successful, most popular, smartest,” etc. in elementary school. And yet, opportunities happened, the most memorable being an opportunity to be one of four kids elected to serve as a student body officer for the school. I would also be remiss if I did not mention that while not at the peak of popularity in elementary school, I did have friends from church and the neighborhood on whom I could depend. These kids had many attributes, the most prominent being their kindness to me.
Middle School
When I think about middle school, I think about still having the usual preteen and new school challenges but my challenges were now exacerbated. For example, facing these challenges in a bigger school with bigger and older peers. Aging did not increase my motor coordination or my math computation skills but rather the gaps increased with higher stakes.
Reflecting upon strategies that helped me survive in middle school, swimming comes to mind. A typical gym class during that time included units such as flag football, soccer, basketball, etc and playing those games required picking teams. Thankfully, my middle school also came with a pool so to offset my fears of being picked last and possibly picked on by my peers, I took swimming All. Year. Long (except for the one required non-swimming unit a year). Granted, I rarely had a good hair day and I typically finished last in the lap swimming. However, the benefit of an individual sport vs a team sport brought me some relief.
It has been my experience that an individual with a disability, brain injury or otherwise, still has similar wants and desires as anyone else. Individual awareness goes so much deeper than what can be seen on the surface. I knew that I wanted to connect with peers and feel a belonging as part of a group or a team. I hoped that being a part of a team would help me blend in more and stick out less.
My middle school had an after school girls’ basketball team. I had seen 2 of my cousins play on the team and I wanted that to be my ticket to belonging. My dear brother helped me find and purchase all the appropriate basketball clothing and spent hours practicing with me. I absolutely had the heart but I did NOT have any of the coordination. I could not dribble without the ball being stolen and I could not come close to sinking a free throw.
Middle school also taught me needed life lessons. I could say that crying over math homework was a rare occurrence but…. that would be a lie. However, I remember tears on Halloween night and my mom encouraging me to consider and lean into the gratitude of the moment. It did not fix anything at the time but that lesson held a lot of truth in the moment and in the life to come.
During middle school gym class, I simply did not have the athletic and coordination skills to keep up with my peers. Being a 4’11 middle schooler also did not lend itself to sprinting around the track during gym class. However, what I lacked in speed I could make up for with heart. I recall standing at the start of the track and telling myself, “Self, this is an opportunity to see what you can accomplish.” I focused on not finishing but rather, not giving up. Since I stayed focused on the task and I did not have the appeal of strolling and chatting with friends, I kept moving and finished in the middle of the group instead of dead last.
Middle school math class was my Achilles heel. Even when I could understand the process for one problem it did not guarantee that I could apply that process to the next problem. This caused a lot of confusion. Helping me pass middle school math required a team effort, namely from three family members who loved math as much as I loathed it. My mom and two of my sisters spent countless hours helping me study for tests and complete my homework.
Looking back on my middle school math with adult experience and perspective I can recognize that one of my greatest challenges was being called on to answer/solve a problem in front of another person. Whether in the classroom or at home, I froze when being asked a math question. I know now that the silence caused me additional anxiety and stress and to offset it I started spitting out answers. Unfortunately, with no knowledge of my brain injury, it often came across as repeated guessing or lack of trying.
For any middle schooler struggling with math today I would recommend an environment without rush or pressure, without silence in a group setting, waiting for a response. Or, practice ahead of time with an adult, demonstrating how they solved a particular problem so that they could then share It with peers confidently and as a part of the class.
A specific middle school experience outlines that parts of brain injury do not automatically get easier or come together simply by aging. Rather, challenges may become exacerbated. Finding my way from point a to point b never came easy for me, especially when living in a time without smartphones and GPS. My brain simply did not automatically remember the route no matter how familiar. Essentially, unless I made a conscious choice to hit the record button and pay close attention to where I was going, I would not remember it later. Later in life, I was headed home in a choir carpool. As the driver of the carpool exited the freeway he looked to me to direct him for how to get to my house. Considering the route and landscape at the time, it was roughly a 5-7 minute drive, with only 3-4 turns. But in the moment, I had no idea where he should head next. Thankfully, my cousin stepped in and provided the needed directions. It should be noted that this happened at age 15, not age 5. Again, showing that age alone cannot always be enough for growth and progress.
High School
My first year in high school started off uneventfully. I had the same challenges but I think I found comfort in the familiarity of them. I had a dear neighbor friend who gave me a ride to school every day but I still had the 10+ minutes or so before school started, unsure of what to do with myself during this time. One can only stand in front of their locker and rummage in it for so long. I ate lunch with friends but I felt unsure if I was part of the group or if I was just there to take up space (i.e. would anyone notice if I missed lunch that day?). Despite the many menu choices, I chose the same sandwich every day because I knew how to do it and the cafeteria felt too overwhelming otherwise. Still, when I think back on my sophomore year of high school, I feel good memories. I got my first “B” in a math class (geometry), I went on my first date, I made friends and had some typical high experiences, which I believe I wanted most of all. I wanted to feel more typical and less different.
Then during the summer, I moved to a new continent. No, that is not a typo. My family had lived abroad in South America before I was born but I had only ever known one house, one neighborhood. Then, two months before my 17th birthday, we moved to the Philippines. Knowing what I know now about brain injury and the circumstances that accompany it, it feels rather miraculous that I (eventually and successfully) made it through that life-changing. I left behind all the familiarity with school, friends, and neighborhood. I really missed my 10 nieces and nephews that I adored.
I found myself in a school as a random person from Utah among students who were used to moving around the world and adapting/adjusting to a new school. At the first
parent teacher conference of the year, many of my teachers asked my mom, “She’s never moved before, has she?” The culture of my international private school had much higher academic standards and I found myself waking up at 3:30 just to keep up with my peers. However, what I lost from familiarity I gained in new experiences such as visiting new places, trying new foods, meeting people from other countries as my world rapidly expanded.
That time of my life had a lot of loneliness punctuated with moments of belonging. During my senior year, I found my own way to combat feeling lonely. I joined school clubs, five service clubs to be exact. My school had an extensive service outreach program with multiple opportunities to get out in the community. Joining five clubs did not suddenly put me at the peak of popularity but it solved a major problem for me. Having club meetings five days a week gave me a role to do during lunch and it gave me people to talk to, as well.
I previously mentioned struggling to remember directions even in familiar situations. My brain not consciously recording directions manifested itself in other ways, as well. On a Saturday morning with my mom and dad, my dad asked me to make the French toast for breakfast, in order to give my mom a break. I agreed and proceeded to stand in front of a bowl of batter and slices of bread, having no idea what to do next. I stood there until my mom whispered to my dad, “I don’t think she knows what to do.” Indeed, I did not know what to do! Despite having been in the kitchen while French toast was being made and likely talking about making French toast, my brain did not retain the “how-to.” I do not know that any of us thought much of it at the time but looking back it is such a classic example of brain injury impacting memory and retention.
Two particular high school experiences steered me onto a path that continues to pay dividends for me today. My high level of service involvement led to me being one of four seniors to receive a “Service to the School” award. This later resulted in a full scholarship opportunity at college. I also spent two years volunteering in a 1st grade classroom and later on in a kindergarten classroom and that helped guide me towards my teaching career today.
I did not have a traditional high school and I do not believe that I would ever want to relive it. However, looking back, I draw a lot of inner strength and satisfaction from knowing I had a path all my own, unique to me and I could rely on that path in the years to come.
Junior College
Had “face palm” emojis been invented when I started junior college, a face palm would be an accurate summary of my freshman year of college. My parents had prepared me with the “how-to’s” of college such as cooking, cleaning, hairstyle, makeup, etc. I firmly believe that the preparation was sufficient for anyone without a brain injury. In my case, we simply did not know that I needed more unique preparation and more specific practice and that I would be essentially clueless in various areas for knowing how to care for myself. I gained weight, my face broke out with a lot of zits, and I felt the effects of being far from my temporary “home” in the Philippines with my parents who were in a vastly different time zone and in the days before Skype and Zoom, etc.. All of that added to a lot of emotional pain for me.
I do not specifically recall how or when I learned how to better care for myself and I would add that it took many more years of practice and learning how to style my hair, reduce the zits, and cook nutritious meals (I’m still not a fan of wearing makeup!) However, if someone asked me how to help another in a similar situation I would say this; “Make sure the individual knows that everyone has challenges. Everyone is working on something. This is not just unique to you.” I did not want help during my childhood years even when the help was warranted. A desire for help did not automatically grow with me as an adult and my inner desire to be just like everyone else, remained. Also, simply being told a few times that everyone is working on something, not just you…. Is ultimately not enough to instill a long-term belief that changes a mindset. Rather it needs to be a dynamic discussion that occurs repeatedly, and with compassion, until it sinks in.
At first glance, these words may generate a response of “Well, that’s just like everybody else!” And yes, that is true, to a point. For me the divergence comes from considering that someone with a brain injury typically has heightened and reactive emotions. Experiences that an individual may be able to just shake off (being corrected in front of others, weight gain, misspeaking in a group, etc.) an individual with a brain injury is likely to feel the emotional implications of it much more deeply. Hence the need for intentional, repeated reassurance to create more openness and less resistance to receiving help.
With the “college hard times” discussion out of the way, let’s switch to the “college good times.” I am a believer that there are benefits that come from looking for and acknowledging compensations in life. For example, even when my life skills struggled, my academic skills (aside from my math classes) never did. My love of service clubs and organizations that developed while in the Philippines carried over into college and later resulted in a campus position with a full scholarship. I found a community within the Early Childhood department and the people associated with it.
Bachelors Degree
It was during my Bachelor’s Degree that I learned the most about “how” I learn with some help from a professor. I learned that traditional methods of work and study did not always guarantee academic success. For me, my study habits typically consisted of a lot of reading, a lot of highlighting the reading and a thick stack of note cards. However, when the only reading source consisted of a textbook, my brain could not decipher the important text from the less-important text. I did not want to risk not knowing something for a test and/or assignment so this resulted in my highlighting most lines on the page except for the ifs, ands, buts, etc. The note cards did provide a way for me to write down and hopefully retain information.
I used this method exclusively for many years but my amount of work did not equal the grades or scores I wanted. Typically, my test scores were a grade lower than that of my peers and this baffled me. I recall meeting with a professor and he made one, turning-point statement: “Let’s find out what you don’t understand.” We pulled out my current test and discussed “why” I had missed certain questions. It quickly became apparent that while I could memorize information and repeat it when asked, I could not apply it, such as responding to the question, “Give an example of _________.” Once I learned more about my learning style, I knew I had to expand the memorization into a focus on applying the information. It did not always come easily or automatically but just by being aware that I needed to expand my study habits had an impact. The best means I found to counteract this challenge was either retaining a note taker through the University Disability Center (A University Disability Center is a resource I highly recommend) or relying on the powerpoint slides that the professor provided. Either of those methods relieved me from sorting through an abundance of information and hoping I could figure out the most important parts on my own.
Much like I had lower test scores compared to my peers, I also typically had lower assignment scores, usually not due to a lack of focus or time studying. To further explain the process that led to the scores, it was like relying on a GPS system to get you to the end point. However, imagine that your GPS told you to take a specific road, so you follow it religiously but end up at a different end point. My brain’s train of thought and the assignment train of thought were not always in sync. I interpreted the directions to mean one thing but ultimately it wasn’t the outcome that the professors wanted. Eventually, I learned to reach out to professors and ask them if I could submit my assignments prior to the due date for their feedback so I could have time to make corrections. Most, if not all, professors were receptive to this method.
Lastly, my brain injury became a factor in classes where the lights were dimmed in order to show slides or films. Trying to stay awake in a dark setting was not exclusive to the classroom; it can also be challenging for me in theaters, concert halls, etc. Essentially, in a sedentary setting, when the lights went down, my brain got the cue to go to sleep. To help me stay awake in the theater or concert hall, I’ve learned to “prep-nap” beforehand. To help me in the classroom it meant moving around, standing at the back of the classroom, etc. The biggest help was to approach the professor and kindly explain that my drowsiness was a result of my brain function and not stemming from a lack of sleep, interest or focus. Another asset during my time at the university was my campus job, cleaning the dorms. Was it a fancy or impressive job? Nope, not even close! But the benefits came in the forms of good friends and routine, non-stressful job that my brain function sorely needed.
The key event of my university experience was enrolling in the Early Childhood program, grades K-3, teaching program. I felt I had found my niche in the program working with children, being creative, and fulfilling a childhood dream. During the pre-student teaching semester I came to love it even more and my grades and evaluations were good enough to remain in the program. The next semester, the official student teaching semester did not go well. Two weeks into the program, I learned that my performance was subpar and improvement was needed and soon. Unfortunately, this news did not help me to dig deep and grow, even with my best efforts. Rather, the stress of it began to break me. Sleeping through the night and keeping food down became a problem, among other symptoms. After a month of high stress and after meeting with the university faculty, I made the choice to withdraw from the student teaching program. I would still be graduating with my Bachelors’ Degree but without my teaching license. I realize this may be the time that questions are generated such as, “how did this happen? How could it have been avoided?” All valid questions! However, at this point in my life, they are unimportant questions to me. I have found such joy in my current teaching job and setting that I know I have found my niche and am grateful for the roads that led me here.
I do want to address the emotional implications of this sudden life change, though. Many life compensations came exiting the teaching program such as returning to my campus job, time with my grandma before her passing, and relief from extreme stress that I had been under. However, the shock of not graduating with a teaching license and then getting a teaching job, cannot be overstated. It came with feelings of failure and fear about the future. Thankfully, it had been arranged many months prior for me to work as an English teacher in Taiwan for a year. My time in Taiwan gave me much needed time and space to heal and plan my next life step. I also need to note that my neuropsychologist, Dr. David Nilsson, had a key role in my next steps, continually reminding me that I could, in fact, choose what I wanted to do and that I really did have the time I needed to figure it out!
Year in Taiwan
Much like my time living in the Philippines expanded my world, so did my year of living and working in Taiwan, and it expanded it in new ways. I learned that the experience of being an employee has a different dynamic than living there as a citizen or long-term traveler. When you are in the role of an employee, you are bound by that country’s laws and customs and it changes your experience. My Taiwan living conditions with 12-14 young adults living on the 4th floor of the school, with 4-5 people per (large) bedroom, were a completely new situation. I tried (somewhat) to learn Mandarin during my year there but did not get very far in either speaking it or being able to read/recognize the characters. Also, if my directional skills or lack thereof, were a factor while living in the US, it became even more of a factor living in Taiwan because I could not rely on English street signs and other key landmarks to guide my way. But I came to love the people, the food, the night markets, the culture, and travel and so much more! If I had to choose a takeaway from that year, it would be this; keep an open mind about what you think you can or cannot do. Leave room open to surprise yourself!
Graduate School and Teaching Career
After returning from Taiwan, I enrolled at a different university in a Master’s and Teaching License program. I also had a new field of study, Early Childhood Special Education, drawing upon my own experiences of living with a disability. My biggest take away moment from graduate school? Learning and believing that I was, and always had been, smart and not someone who academically came in second to my peers in the classroom. This knowledge became cemented for me with a phone call on a Saturday morning. I recall sitting on my bed with my mom when the home phone rang. The caller introduced himself as Spence Kinard and said that he called to offer me a scholarship. I had no idea about his role as a prominent Utah businessman. The shock became evident when my next words to him were, “Are you serious?!?!” He assured me that the seriousness was real. After hanging up the phone, my mom explained to me who I had been talking to and we shared a good laugh! While I do not believe that life is solely about our outward, tangible accomplishments I absolutely do believe that accomplishments can come with needed reassurance. In my case, I needed the “A” grades and the offer of a scholarship in graduate school to help really believe in my intelligence.
I took a job working as an aide in a Special Education class for 4th-6th graders. However, that setting ultimately proved to be the wrong setting for me and at the end of the year, the school chose not to renew my position. I once again found myself out of a teaching job for the second time within two years and considered dropping out of the education field altogether, including my current graduate teaching license/master’s program. I will be forever grateful for the firm yet loving advice of my sister when I told her about my considering not finishing the program. She said, “That’s stupid! You’re already halfway through the program. Don’t give up now!”
Once again, my work in education took another turn and so did my life. I found another job in education, started another year of graduate school, and moved into an apartment with a roommate. Unfortunately, those three big events at once proved to be too much for me. To better cope with the stress, I took a semester off from school to become better acclimated at my new job and to reduce my stress and anxiety levels. Once I became settled, I resumed both graduate school and my work for a non-profit teaching program.
This program provided me with the means to finish my master’s program and (finally) receive my teaching license. These are two completed hallmarks for which I will be forever grateful because I could not have done them on my own! Highlights of my non-profit teaching include the coworkers and families that I met and impermeably touched my life. I grew as a professional and an individual, inside and outside the classroom. I gained ideas and strategies that I still use in my own classroom today!
Ultimately, though, I hit some rough points that could have potentially ended my career there (are you sensing a theme here?) and I came to know that I had not yet arrived at my “teaching home.” However, in my mind I viewed the roadmap of my educational/professional life thus far as follows: three teaching programs/jobs and three failures in one form or another. Essentially, a “three strikes, you’re out” mentality. I again had to question my decision to continue in the field of teaching. I received invaluable advice from my neuropsychologist, Dr. David Nilsson during this time. He reassured me that I could, in fact, walk away from education. It would be OK and it would be my choice to make. However, he cautioned, “Remember…. three strikes and you’re out is only true in baseball!”
Looking back on my career path I feel immense gratitude to God, friends, family and others who have crossed my path for however short or seemingly insignificant a time. When I reflect, I see my failures, yes; but mainly what I see are the times and ways and means that when one path ended, another opened up. I doubt I would say it at the time, but I now know that I never had to be completely without hope or without options and I am grateful for those lessons that I could not have learned in any other way!
I would be lying if I said that a “three strikes mentality” did not leave a negative imprint on me and severely reduced my teaching confidence. Once I knew I wanted out of non-profit teaching, I began applying anywhere for any job remotely related to special education. However, I still felt unsure if anyone would want “me” after my bumpy teaching road. This is why, when I got the call from the Early Childhood Administrator to offer my current (and best) teaching position, I immediately asked, “Are you sure???” (that you want me). She reassured me of the surety of the job offer.
I have been truly blessed to find great joy and success and confidence in my current teaching position. Among all the “wrong turn” roads, I finally found a teaching home! To get here, I have benefited from two women, my Early Childhood Administrator & Teacher Specialist. Among the inevitable bumps in the workplace road, three specific strategies they implemented have really helped me. 1) They have wholly believed that I can do hard things in my personal and professional life. They have shown that belief in both words and actions. 2) They have given me time, space and patience to come to terms with doing the aforementioned "hard things." At times I have definitely needed that approach as change does NOT come easy for me. 3) They have been willing to adapt (within reason) to my personal learning style.
Examples of adaptation include helping me to sort through information and then to take it in. Much like with my college textbooks, when I am given too much information such as in a meeting or a work training, it may be difficult for me to distinguish between non-essential and essential information. For my first few years, I wanted to get everything “right” and not make a mistake that could get me fired. I see this as an understandable mindset given my teaching employment history. Unfortunately, though, this meant I worried (a lot) that any mistake, even in the spirit of learning and growing, could be “the” mistake that could get me fired. Thankfully, this worry ended the day that I sat down with my administrator and she clearly laid out for me, "OK, THESE are actions that could get you fired. NOT...." Having it clearly laid out for me brought my brain immense relief! I became free to focus on doing my best and learning because my brain now had a filter for the information I was receiving.
These women have also adapted to my learning style by choosing how they present feedback to me. If there is a big change coming, they will be quick to reassure me “It will be OK.” They also know that the best way for me to receive feedback is through a “sandwich” whenever possible. Begin with a positive, then the constructive feedback, and close with another positive, or restate the original positive. Combining positives with constructive feedback allows my brain to be more receptive and hear more than just a perceived negative. Finally, I would be extremely remiss if I did not mention the others within my workplace who have consistently shown up for me, loved me, believed in me, helped and supported me. My life has been truly enriched from knowing them.
Dreams Come True
My heart feels truly full when I reflect upon all the dreams I have been fortunate to live out. Dreams that I did not always believe would be within reach for me. Writing this article and the opportunity to share my story is another dream fulfilled for me and I sincerely hope that my words will do some good for others and help them to feel less alone in their struggles. But that is just one of many dreams.
Remember the middle school me that wanted nothing more socially than to have athletic skills and be part of a team? I found that “team” through running and training with friends and completing races. Over the span of three years, I completed two marathons, four half marathons, six 10k races and several 5k races. It is important to note that I “completed” races not that I placed or won or any of those accolades. My last race, SoJo Marathon, I was the second to last runner to complete the race, running the last 10 miles completely alone and hoping that the course would still be marked and I would not end up lost. None of that was important though, because I finished and the time in which I finished did not detract at all from my success. Unfortunately, a few months later I broke my leg in two places and this ended my long- distance running days. Life compensated though, and now I enjoy running with the after school girls 5k program.
August 2018 marked a crowning moment in my career when I was awarded “Excellence in Education” for the entire district Early Childhood Program. It validated my hard work, the help of others, but mainly it validated the worth of the wrong roads that led me to my current location. Other teaching success has come in the form of giving a presentation to my colleagues and receiving high scores on my teaching evaluations.
Socially speaking, I am not alone in the world. I have both maintained and developed meaningful friendships. Within these friendships we have celebrated birthdays (theirs and mine), attended concerts, taken weekend road trips, and traveled to places including Singapore, Texas, Alaska, Maine, and Boston. These friendships have cemented core memories and both enriched and expanded my world. I hope that my friends can say the same for me.
It took me until 26 years old to believe in my intelligence but now I can build on it. I took a 10+ year break from school after completing my Master’s Degree and I welcomed the change! However, I recently made the choice to return to school and enrolled in a program to get my English Second Language (ESL) Teaching Endorsement Certificate. At times when it gets hard, I have questioned my choice to willingly and intentionally return to school. Then I remember that I made it through hard times in education before. I know that with help from God and from others, I can do it again.
I figured out parts of my life that were previously bumpy. I figured out my clothing style and hair and now others ask for my input in those areas. I learned how to cook healthy meals and discovered I love doing yoga! I have learned strategies for remembering locations and directions, and I have benefited from my cell phone GPS. I may still get lost but it is much less of a challenge for me now.
Mainly I feel I can honestly say that I live a good, everyday life. I independently go to work and come back to a home I love and share with my two guinea pigs. Outside of work I go out with and connect with friends and family, do my ESL homework, exercise, go shopping, hiking and do many other activities that I enjoy. Note that I did say my life has been completely smooth and flawless, even as an adult; because it has NOT been that way. I have known medical challenges, financial difficulties, disappointments, anxiety and depression, emotional trauma and more. It is also worth noting that while I have a driver’s license I choose not to drive because I do not have the neurological skills to do it successfully. I get by through walking wherever I can, using public transit when needed and help from friends and family. But, overall I would not change any of my challenges because it shaped my life to what it is today. It is a GOOD life, open for thriving and a life for which I am truly grateful.
***This work is dedicated to the loving memory of Dr. David E. Nilsson, board certified clinical neuropsychologist.***