We all have superpowers

The problem with processing a secret superpower is the annoying need to remain inconspicuous. I mean, who wants to consistently show up their merely mortal friends by flaunting skills and powers that set you apart?

 

What disappoints me is that my superpower doesn’t involve flight, immense strength or speed, x-ray vision, or the ability to instantaneously burst in flames. I admit the latter would have been a favorite, especially in Mrs. Schaffner’s 3^rd grade reading comprehension class at King Edward VII Preparatory School, for it was there that the manifestations of what made me different were first openly acknowledged. I, of course, was already well aware of being a little “different,” and a combination of resiliency, creativity, and candidly, fear, had all begun to inform various compensatory pathways and workarounds.

 

I couldn’t write certain words or numbers. I couldn’t read a paragraph without becoming overwhelmed with all those words demanding to be heard and understood. I would look at the page, and all I experienced was noise.

 

But, as you know, superheroes don’t just fold to the pressure – we review the inventory of weapons at our disposal and adjust. Or in my case, commence a period of mild to debilitating panic that I would be discovered and left behind as everyone around me continued to grow and thrive.

 

And I had to protect my secret, especially as I began the development and honing of various tricks and cheats – memorization skills; pattern recognition; active listening and public speaking – workarounds that weren’t yet the tools and techniques now routinely offered to people who had been diagnosed with labels that now no longer fill me with fear.

 

Visual and Surface Dyslexia, ADHD; mild OCD. These are all my weapons.

 

My parents were steadfast and demanding – they innately knew that I would need to work that much harder and longer, especially as I was so easily distracted and had to work on various activities simultaneously in order to complete any one of them.

 

My writing improved, but certain letters and words are illegible to this day. Teachers stopped using words like “slovenly” and “lazy” on my submissions and ignored the transpositions and focused on my intent and content. I learned and practiced the verbal and communication skills needed to compensate, and I can absorb information through sound and touch. I still read a paragraph from the top left of the page to the bottom right, and not line by line, left to right. I infer meaning through context and word signal instead of linear comprehension. I know that sounds strange. Superpowers often are a little strange.

 

And then along came computers with word processors; spell and syntax checks, and these have transformed the way I communicate. As I write this blog, I don’t always understand why a particular word or sentence is underlined, but right-click is one of my best friends, and I often must make random choices based on faith until those pesky highlights disappear.

 

For those I am very close to – colleagues and friends – where speed and intent is perhaps more vital than accuracy, I forgo the error checks and fixes. They accept my idiosyncrasies with humor and humility, and I am grateful.

 

So, to all of the superheroes, I say wear the cape with pride. Work hard to leverage what makes you different and special, and you too will be able to fly.