LD is the two letters that separated me from the world.
I was in kindergarten. While the other kids were grabbing their backpacks I thought to myself, “Which one is mine?” I told my teacher I couldn’t find my backpack. She replied, “Don’t be silly Cassie it is on the hanger with your name on it.” Name? What was she talking about? I just saw a bunch of funny shapes on the hangers, not names. I looked around and decided to give up until all the other kids had taken their backpacks. That way I would get mine for sure. Then the bell rang. The other kids ran out and I grabbed my backpack. I couldn’t walk fast enough to get to the bus on time. I had to go on the late bus for the big kids with my sister. I waited for almost 2 hours for the big kids bus (I went to morning kindergarten). After this happened my mom knew something wasn’t quite right.
I took a bunch of tests, tests that made no sense. Well, about a month later I walked into class and the teacher told me I was in a new special class. My nice new teacher took me to the class. I asked another kid if he knew why I had to come to this class. He said, “duh, you’re ld. Don’t you know?” I replied, “Oh” and pretended I knew what he was talking about. Than he said something I’ll never forget. Have you ever noticed that LD backwards is DL. Which even though I’m LD I know stands for “down low”- which means to keep something quiet.
Funny isn’t it? It’s like there trying to act like we don’t know we’re different even though the rest of the kids, teachers, school, and pretty much the whole world know from just talking or looking at us? We know we’re different and we know that even though they say we’re special what they really are thinking is poor kid.