Being Made Fun of With NLD
Today we are going to discuss being made fun of while having NLD. This is not going to be an easy one for me to record because it involves being made fun of and feeling invisible while I was sexually abused by my cousin. If you have experienced things before you may be triggered by listening to this episode.
Speaking for the Silent Majority, by Vivian who is a “four year college as a BSN student enrolled in a dual degree program for my BA in pre-law/history and a minor in philosophy. Upon graduation from college, I will be able to apply to law school to be a nurse attorney. At the age of 17-years-old, I was finally diagnosed with NVLD after many misdiagnoses. I’m currently fighting for eq”ual education opportunities for NVLD students and raising awareness for NVLD.” Vivian and I are speaking for the silent ones or for the ones that may be afraid to stand up for themselves because they’re afraid of the consequences.
“Students were very harsh on me as well because once you were in special education, especially in the public school environment, you were targeted immediately. I was called a “SPED” for special education and told by students how dumb I was, unattractive and they laughed at me constantly.” (https://nvld.org/speaking-silent-majority/)
I can relate to Vivian because there were many times I felt invisible in my life, especially when I was being sexually abused by my cousin and no one knew about it until I was 12 years old. There is a song by Hunter Hayes called “Invisible” that you should listen to if you have ever felt invisible even though you want to scream out “Hello don’t you see me” or “Hello can’t you see something is wrong is happening?” Well sometimes you can’t if the person doing it is really sneaky and secretive about it. Other times it is so obvious that you're being made fun of but you don’t know because you’re so innocent, inexperienced, and naive.
The first time I was made fun of was when I was about 10 years old and in girls scouts. My troop was at an American Idol concert. I was dancing to one of the songs. One of the clicks or groups of girls that were near me and my friend started laughing at and pointing at me. I didn’t know they were making fun of me so I just kept dancing because I was having a good time. Looking back at this I wouldn’t change how I responded to this because I was standing up for who I was by showing them I didn’t care what they thought of my dancing because I was having fun. I didn’t know I had an NLD then. I had never even heard of it or anything that was similar to it like ASD.
The song “Invisible” I talked about earlier in the episode just came on when I was writing this script. How serendipitous is that? I also want to share about two other stories that I consider were attacks on me because of my gender and one might have been a prank. The first story happened when I was 12 years old in South Africa. I want to read my personal essay that I wrote for college about this story because it describes it really well. The last personal essay I’ll read to is about my sexual abuse so it might triggering to you if you have experienced it or know someone who has.
I want to read for you the first personal essay I did for college because it will give a good background story of how I grew up.
Homeschooled Before College
Every September school came to me in boxes. In elementary school, the boxes contained a computer, art supplies, musical instruments, and textbooks. By high-school, the boxes held microscopes, calculators, and the great American novels. My school is California Virtual Academy, an online charter school. I’ve attended since first grade. This education allowed me to travel extensively, required me to explore different ways to socialize, and empowered me to work independently. Travel has broadened my worldview and inspired me to work for a more humane and just world. My non-traditional schooling has given me the confidence to do so.
When I was eight, I heard the Dalai Lama say that to change the world one should “Travel and make friends.” I’ve done that in each of the 23 countries I’ve visited. I’ve seen African women walk miles barefooted to find water and illiterate Mayan women sign their microfinance loans with their thumbprints. I’ve worked alongside Peruvians building a community greenhouse funded with micro-credit and helped provide laptops for students in Guatemala. Throughout my travels, I’ve made friends and come to understand how access to education and small loans gives people the strength and the opportunity to overcome adversity. Though our basic needs are the same, we don’t have equal access to meeting them. Observing this has made me take nothing for granted and has left me wanting to make education and micro-credit more accessible for all.
Travel has provided me with unique opportunities for socialization. I’ve interacted with people from different cultures and many walks of life from humanitarians and scientists to world leaders. Consequently, I’ve learned to be more outgoing, creative, and flexible. I’m comfortable in different social settings and working with people from diverse backgrounds. I have come to believe that we need to appreciate the richness of our differences rather than being afraid of them.
Having different social groups to interact with and seeing different businesses has inspired me to eventually run my own business. Whether it’s working in developing countries in micro-finance or at home in the field of sustainability, I’ll need an entrepreneurial spirit. I honed this spirit as an online student working independently and being responsible for creating my schedule and meeting all deadlines. I could work anywhere I had internet access. I’ve done schoolwork at home while riding in a car, and at airports waiting for international flights. The self-motivation I developed in high-school will help me be successful.
Four Pillars
Though I’ve never attended a brick-and-mortar school, when I was twelve I journeyed halfway around the world to build one. Having grown up enjoying middle-class comforts, nothing prepared me for the poverty and cultural differences I experienced in Malawi, Africa. Yet it was there that I discovered my core values: it takes guts, never give up, and live simply and share freely.
At the building site, there were many jobs to do. I chose to join a circle of men making concrete. As I began mixing concrete using only a simple shovel, I felt the circle begin to close in on me. I knew what was happening; I was being excluded because I was a girl. When I refused to relinquish my space, one man tried to take my shovel away. I looked him squarely in the eyes, shook my head defiantly, and yanked it out of his grasp. Despite being afraid, I found the guts to stand up for myself. I rejoined their circle committed to proving women can do the same jobs as men and should be allowed to.
Every day brought new challenges. Spending hours doing back-breaking work leveling the ground for the foundation required a persistence I didn’t know I had. Staying well-hydrated, required consuming liters of water each day which meant frequent visits to the bushes since there was nothing that resembled the bathrooms back home. Collecting sand from the riverbed was hard, but carrying it back in a bucket balanced on my head was harder. I was determined. I was not going to give up. With practice and by studying the native women, I eventually succeeded.
I learned to live simply and share freely there. The community didn’t have much by our standards, yet they were happy and willingly shared with us. I was often touched by their generosity and hospitality. At lunch, they insisted on serving us first even though they had been working hard and we’re hungry too. They generously offered meat to us despite the difficulty of getting it and the fact we couldn’t eat it for health reasons. Seeing their lifestyle made me realize I really don’t need much to live a happy life and taught me to appreciate everything.
Five years later I still live and breathe these values. I had the guts to stay running despite vomiting after my first time and eventually ran the Triple Crown. I never gave up in raising my first C to an A in AP Psychology and I have lived more simply by wasting nothing. Since Africa, I’ve discovered who I am. I know the power of standing up for my beliefs and working hard. I want to empower others with this knowledge and inspire them to take their shovels back. To accomplish this, I draw strength from David Brower’s words: “I’m always impressed by what young people can do when old people say it’s impossible.” I want to be one of those young people who does the impossible.
Taking My Shovel Back Again
Is this enough? When I reached this point, I thought my application was complete. I felt proud of my grades and how I had expressed myself in my essays. Then, I saw this optional essay prompt and, to be honest, I didn’t want to do it. I thought my application was enough. But… There is another shovel story I have not shared. This story explains what was going on behind the scenes for the better part of twelve years. From the time I was six until the time I was twelve, I was sexually abused by my cousin. While trying to be a regular high school student, I was also going through the process of healing from this trauma.
Two months after I took my shovel back in Malawi, I took another, bigger shovel back when I told my mom about the abuse. Before that, no one knew. I had felt alone and helpless for six years, but after telling my mom I finally felt a big weight taken off me. This began my healing process. At the same time that I enrolled in high school, I also enrolled in therapy. I was adjusting to harder classes, stricter deadlines, and more homework while having constant triggers and nightmares about the abuse. Therapy gave me the strength and skills to stop the nightmares and triggers and the realization that helping others could also help me heal. Going to Guatemala to help those in need showed me I was fortunate to have the support that I did.
Not everyone in my family supported me, though. Most of my extended family felt that I was partly to blame for my abuse. They thought I should have known it was wrong and said something sooner. While I was building the greenhouse in Peru, my relationships with my extended family members were falling apart. Our houses were once within walking distance and we visited regularly, but when I realized they didn’t believe me all commutation stopped. Their reactions broke my heart, but I learned something. I learned that I couldn’t change my extended family’s beliefs, but I haven’t let that discourage me from believing I could change the world. I had changed. I had become stronger because of my struggle and felt I could help others do the same.
To get the knowledge and skills to do this though, I had to complete high school and prepare for college. Like everyone else in my junior year, I was studying for my SATs. Unlike my peers though, I was also preparing for a court hearing regarding the abuse. While writing practice SAT essays, I was also writing my victim impact statement explaining the effects the abuse had on me. Articulating my pain and struggle and telling my story to the judge made me feel heard and empowered.
Now in my senior year, I am wondering if this is enough. I realized that not having any contact with my grandparents wasn’t enough for me. As I have been completing college applications, I have started to reach out to my grandparents. It has been a continuous process, but I look forward to it each week. Just as my healing will continue, I know my education will also continue. So is this enough? For now, it has to be.
The second story happened when I was a senior in college. I was walking to class with headphones like usual because I liked to listen to my music on my way to class. At the beginning of my walk I got silly stringed by 3 African American teenagers, two boys and one girl. To make matters worse they throw the empty can at my back and when I turn around after yelling “Ouch!” I see the girl videotaping the whole thing. I didn’t attack them or anything, I just started to run away from them as fast as I could. This was easy to do because I do long distance running. I think I did ask them “Why they did it?” or told them to stop but I couldn’t hear them respond because of my music and all I said was them laughing at me. As soon as I got far enough away from them I took my backpack off and cleaned it up. I felt humiliated. I did call the Berkeley police and file a report after I got back from class and wrote down details of the event. I was able to recall what the teens were wearing and what they looked like really well. I also was able to see the officer where it happened, which was right by my apartment.
My apartment mate was really sweet to me. She felt sorry for me even though she is a person of color. She understood that it was probably a prank, at least that's what the officer thought. She asked what I wanted to do after explaining to her what happened and I said I wanted to go get a milkshake. We went to get one. My brother was going to come comfort me but I thought I was okay because my apartment mate was helping me. Looking back now I wish I would have let him come because it was a humiliating experience and an embarrassing one too. Again I’m not trying to attack blacks I’m trying to let NLDers know what can happen to them when you least expect it. And how you should respond to it. I didn’t throw violence back at the teens because I’m not a violent person and I knew it wasn't going to solve anything. I did have a bruise on my back where the spray can hit me. My apartment mate helped me put cream on it to help it heal because I couldn’t reach it.
She was the best apartment mate I had in college. She helped take care of my dog Truffles when I wasn’t at the apartment by feeding her and taking her out for me. She also let Truffles roam the apartment while we are gone so she wasn’t cooped in my room all day long. I think with this one I responded the way I did because I am a strong woman and wanted to be nonviolent. I also took it as an attack more to having NLD than being a woman.
Also you should listen to “It is what it is” by Cloverdale is a song about accepting when you’re going through something that is rough and you really don’t want to be going through. So whether you have been made fun of or feel invisible while having NLD I and others who have it still have issues with this today. I would love to know what is a story of you being made fun of while having NLD? Please share the level of comfortability. Please send me an email at livingwithnld@gmail.com.
