Hi, my name is Laura. I’m a thirtysomething mother of two and I have ADHD. This is my story *Law and Order dun dun*
Talk to me
I was born in Japan and my family moved to Texas when I was just eighteen months old. I was an energetic, almost danger-seeking toddler. At the time, my parents thought it was because I was trying to keep up with my older brothers. Now we wonder if I was a sensory seeker.
When I was three, I was still not talking (and was quite frustrated about it, apparently), but now I could actually be evaluated for this speech delay. It was eventually determined that I had suffered some hearing loss due to multiple ear infections probably caused by a condition called otitis media with an effusion. Several rounds of antibiotics helped restore my hearing and I started talking.
Because I was speech delayed, I qualified for special education services through my school district. I went to a special education preschool, and then I went to mainstream kindergarten with speech services. I had speech therapy until second grade, which was when I was placed in Resource for some subjects because I struggled in my mainstream classroom. Of course, this was all easily assumed to be because of my early speech issues rather than ADHD. It was the 90s, after all.
Although I did not have an ADHD diagnosis, I was receiving some of the same services as some kids who did have a diagnosis. While there came a point when I realized there was a stigma around going to Resource, I now realize that these classes were quite beneficial because they showed me how well I could do when I had the right kind of help.
Silence isn’t always golden
My family moved into an inner city school district the summer before I started seventh grade. By that point, I was mostly mainstreamed except for test taking. My new school district didn’t care one bit about my history, so there was zero talk of accommodations. This district was a literal testing ground for No Child Left Behind (no really, it was) and already had its own problems.
In some ways, I thought this was a blessing. I could have a fresh start. Back in my suburban district, teachers seemed to find every reason to take off points for behavior. Forgot your pencil? Points off! Didn’t get random spelling homework signed? No recess for a week! Okay, that only happened with one teacher and only one time, but you get the idea.
The new school district seemed just happy if students showed up regularly.
In this environment, I became “the quiet kid” and the teachers LOVED me. All I did was behave myself and do my work. Because of my status as the good kid, teachers were happy to help me whenever I needed it. After my sophomore year of high school, I decided I wanted to try a few advanced placement classes because my regular classes had become too easy, and I wanted to look good for college applications.
You know how my “quiet kid” label was good for my previous classes? Yeah, that was not going to fly in these supposedly college-level courses. We got graded for participating in class discussions, sometimes for as much as a test grade. No pressure here! I could have changed my mind and switched out of these classes, but I was so determined to prove myself (trauma response, anyone?)
There was also the note taking. I had a hard time paying attention to the teacher AND taking notes. How do you take notes when a teacher is talking? What do you write down? How do you decide what’s important enough to write down? These are just a few of the thoughts that went through my head when trying to take notes. Let’s just say I could never be a court stenographer.
Next up: college and beyond!
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