A Social Model of Dyslexia
We
challenge the deficit models of dyslexia in favour of a social model that maintains
that we are not ‘disabled’ by our dyslexia, but by the expectations of the
world we live in. There is nothing
‘wrong’ with being dyslexic per se.
We
would argue that dyslexia is an experience that arises out of natural human
diversity on the one hand and a world on the other where the early learning of
literacy, and good personal organisation and working memory is mistakenly used
as a marker of ‘intelligence’. The problem here is seeing difference
incorrectly as ‘deficit’.
Put in practical terms, for example, it
is disabling to expect that everyone:
- thinks in the same way as each
other, when dyslexic people are more likely to think visually than
verbally (or laterally than logically, or intuitively than deductively….)
- learns to read in the same way; reading
is about accessing meaning, the rest is merely strategy and there is
always more than one way to learn anything.
- makes sense of information in the
same way (they don’t, which is why multi-sensory information is easier for
everyone to understand).
- can take in multiple
instructions.
- can learn to take notes while
trying to listen.
We have
learned to expect that definitions of dyslexia will focus on the precise nature
of the difficulties dyslexics experience, rather than on the nature of the
disabling expectations that lead to these difficulties. But the two cannot be
meaningfully separated. For example, if we expected everyone to be able to think
fluently in 3D as most dyslexics can, some other people would have difficulty
with this. We might be tempted to
describe this as a ‘disability’ and even look for ‘causes’. But without this
expectation, there is no difficulty. So
the difficulty can be recognised as a result of the mismatch between the person
and the expectations, but turning this difficulty into a ‘disability’ depends
on the social value given to the expectation (early reading, good memory etc).
We could
begin to map out all the specific requirements that are likely to disable
dyslexic people. These might include
requiring ideas to be expressed through linear writing, learning phonics,
open-plan offices, using bleached white paper, sitting still while learning or
working and so on. However, both ‘disability’ and identifying ‘disabling’ requirements
are highly emotive terms. In practice,
almost any specific requirement might disable someone. We would prefer to
promote the development of attitudes and strategies that are more inclusive and
less likely to disable anyone. In this
way, we would argue that dyslexia-friendly
is user-friendly, and values diversity and equal opportunities. This is why we would endorse the Freedom to
Learn Report conclusion, “An explicit dyslexia policy is needed…”
Nevertheless,
traditional forms of education, work environments and social expectations continue
to create unnecessary barriers and difficulties. Unfortunately, despite the
many strengths and compensatory strategies developed by adult dyslexics, many of
us become victims of educational and social expectations and systems,
particularly if we are trapped at the level of our ‘disability’. The experience
can lead to problems of self-esteem, and lack of confidence as well as limiting
educational and employment opportunities. This is why it is so important that
we have the protection of the 1995 Disability Discrimination Act that requires
proactive measures to avoid disabling people.
Many of us
who have been made to feel ‘stupid’ by these disabling experiences have adopted
‘dyslexia’ and ‘dyslexic’ as terms of empowerment that confront the deficit
model, challenge disabling expectations and requirements, and promotes the many
strengths associated with dyslexia such as visual thinking, entrepreneurial skills,
vision, creativity, lateral thinking, as well as hands-on and artistic skills.
Ross
Cooper, January 2006
