Dsxeiyla Relus OK

Having a book published is very special. eBooks are OK, but it wasn’t until I held the physical thing in my hand, felt the finish of the cover and the texture of the pages that the achievement really struck home. What makes it even more delightful is that a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away I was told I was illiterate.


When I was at school dyslexia was not recognised. If you were a slow reader (which I was), your ability was measured by reading age. My reading age was 2 or 3 years behind my younger brother. I needed a lot of extra lessons to pass the Eleven Plus. But I did, and got to grammar school. That was where the problems really started.

The Headmaster was fearsome. He wore his black gown as intimidation, not just as his badge of office. He was a bit like Professor Snape (Harry Potter’s bête noire) with a cane rather than a wand, similar black hair, but of larger build, and welsh. He taught Divinity, which consisted of each class member taking turns to read part of the King James Bible text we were studying. If you made a mistake when you read he was pitiless. To a non-dyslexic this may not sound too taxing, but for someone who’s reading is not accurate; who has trouble with unfamiliar words; who will unconsciously replace words with ones that have a similar meaning; and who’s reading ability reduces (dyslexia increases) the greater the pressure they are put under, it was a nightmare.

At the end of my first term he summarised my school report with:

“This boy is illiterate”.

I’m sure there was no malice. He just said it as he saw it.

I struggled through school, writing the minimum because the more I wrote, the more spelling and punctuation mistakes I made, the more marks I lost. Even maths was difficult. Just copying the question down onto paper I would often unconsciously change a - to a + (or + to -), which guarantees the wrong answer.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t until I was in my thirties that I finally forgave my ex-headmaster and shook off the belief that I was illiterate. By that time I had gained a degree in Mechanical Engineering, been an officer in the Royal Navy and written a handful of academic papers. I had come to the conclusion that I must be dyslexic, not illiterate, and acknowledged the set of coping mechanisms I had developed to mitigate the “problem”. Looking back I can see that coping with dyslexia is one of the underlying reasons I became interested in knowledge management. The computer became my salvation, followed by the Internet. I’m good at concepts, but struggle with remembering detail, so access to an online reference was/is invaluable. It wasn’t long before I wanted that resource inside whichever organisation I was working in.

I never thought I would write a book. It seemed far too big a mountain to climb. And I have to say it is probably the hardest thing I have done. I happened across my dyslexia assessment towards the end of writing the book. And I had forgotten it said that it takes me 6 times longer to get my thoughts onto paper than the average person. One of the symptoms of dyslexia is having great difficulty giving a written answer, but being able to answer questions well oraly.

Writing a book might be a struggle for a dyslexic, but other useful skills are not. As a society, and within organisations, are we taking advantage of the dyslexic bonus?

Fernette and Brock Eide, authors of The Dyslexic Advantage, explain that the brains of dyslexic people are wired differently. They are better at big-picture processing, dynamic and interconnected reasoning.

“Dyslexic brains are organized in a way that maximizes strength in making big picture connections at the expense of weaknesses in processing fine details.”

Dyslexics often think of creative and unexpected ways to solve problems and challenges.

Approximately 10 percent of the population in UK and USA are dyslexic. Like me, it’s not unknown for them to be labelled illiterate. 75 percent of convinced criminals are illiterate! Is that because they are dyslexic or because of a disadvantaged childhood and education, or both?

A scheme to help illiteracy in Chelmsford Prison in the UK found that 53 percent of inmates were dyslexic.[1] Very similar levels were found in the prison population of Texas USA. What if their dyslexia had been detected in childhood and nurtured instead of ignored? How different would their lives have been? And how many more Jamie Olivers, Tom Cruises, Steven Spielbergs, Richard Bransons, Agatha Christies, John Lennons, Thomas Edisons and many more successful dyslexics would there be?

Are we making the most of people who are hard-wired to see the big picture, who are inventive thinkers with dynamic and interconnected reasoning? Do we even know who they are? Do we recognise and take advantage of their creativity, vivid imaginations, curiosity and communication skills? As a manager you would be unwise to use a dyslexic for proof reading (in fact would to be unfair to do so), but do you know what they are good at, and how you can employ them to your, and their, best advantage?

[1] Hewitt-Main, Jackie (2012) Dyslexia Behind Bars: Final Report of a Pioneering Teaching and Mentoring Project at Chelmsford Prison – 4 years on, Mentoring 4 U.