The workforce no longer grips me, I’m old, and pyjamas are my favourite “clothes, and I thought my dream job settled me into writing and publishing. I still write and publish, but my mind keeps taking me back to what really had settled me into my dream job.
After discovering through an agency in my early thirties that I indeed have learning differences, the agency put me through testing to ascertain my weaknesses and strengths. What surprised me is the fact I went through public school and high school with these difficulties that glowed red under testing, and no one knew why I struggled with learning. Geometry, puzzles, math, all those kinds of abilities are my disabilities. However, I scored in the ninety-eighth percentile for written communication, despite my dyslexic reversals. So I went back to school, taking four college courses to launch myself into my strength. I’ve written since childhood, and much of it came out poetry. I finished with an average of ninety-eight percent. But there’s always, always someone better at writing than myself.
As it turns out, when I had gone for all the testing, the agency who arranged this for me had me say a few words at their convention, because I overcame my learning disabilities with the attitude of, “If I really try, I will understand how my mind works, and I will conquer this nonsense of feeling sorry for myself,” and turned with my dyslexia, that phrase “LD” to “DL” which is Learning Disabilities to Different Learning.
The speech got me a standing ovation. I had no cue cards, no external prompts, and not much notice asking me to speak. I spoke from my heart. I used words like ‘gonna, and ‘wanna’—oh so “unprofessional”. Despite this, many came to me afterwards and thanked me for teaching them how to handle different learning, and they thanked me for infusing confidence into them. I never felt proud, per se, but I felt exhilarated for helping so many.
I landed myself the position of Key Note speaker for many more of ATN Access Inc. events. I love, love, loved it. I know I’ve always been quite the verbalizer. My mother had often told me to “Give your tongue a rest.” I never did, seems I couldn’t.
Another favourite job had me at Fanshawe College teaching a creative writing course, I entitled, Descriptive Writing. This focused on character development and imagery. I live in a small city, and it only took two years to continue classes until I ran out of fills. I loved this job, too, and of course it involved not giving my tongue a rest. But my all time favourite job goes down in my history as Key Note speaking, and it payed crazy good.
Well, that was a bit. Now I need to get back to writing this book I’m halfway through. I still love to write, but I’d welcome the chance to speak to a thousand in a room again. The only drawback is having to wear clothes. PJs are so much more comfy, right?
ohsohumanspirit 