Sounds of the Journey

 

IV. Voices Along the Path

Philipose Vaidyar

As we journeyed with Joash through his assessment, we faced many hurdles. Ten different schools, three years of missed classes—each move a step toward finding the right support. But in the midst of this struggle, God made a way. Despite everything, Joash didn’t just catch up; he dived forward, skipping those three lost years. This is a story of God's enabling grace, showing us that His plans for Joash were bigger than we could have imagined.

I came across a poem during one of Joash’s early consultations and adapted it here:   

A meeting was held in heaven’s light,
“It’s time again for a journey bright,”
Said the angels to the Lord on high,
“This child needs love to reach the sky.

His path won’t be a straight, clear line,
In learning, he may lag behind.
Through schools, he’ll wander, ten or more,
Seeking the key to unlock the door.

With ‘dyslexia’ as his silent guide,
He'll press on, with faith inside.
So choose the parents who will care,
With patience, strength, and love to spare.

They may not understand at first,
The winding road, the trials, the thirst.
But as the journey carries on,
Their bond with him will grow so strong.

Though struggles come, and grades may fall,
God will lead him through it all.
And in time, they’ll surely see,
The plan that heaven had decreed.

With every step, and every test,
Joash will rise and do his best.
In love, in faith, in God's embrace,
He’ll find his way and set the pace.”

(Adapted from the poem 'Heaven’s Special Child,' often attributed to Edna Massimilla or Anonymous).

Through the Eyes of a Child: A Learning Adventure

Every child’s journey through school is a world of its own, filled with excitement, challenges, and unexpected lessons. This story follows the path of a curious boy navigating the ups and downs of learning, from the warmth of caring teachers to moments of loneliness and confusion. Join us as we explore the experiences that shaped his educational adventure and the people who made a difference along the way.

Twenty-five years had passed when Joash and I were talking about the teachers who left their mark. He brought up a vivid memory of his Hindi teacher at Kodaikanal. He recalled how the Hindi teacher had called him aside to return his Hindi notebook after correction. The teacher asked him to come closer, showed him the note page, then suddenly closed the book, slapped him across the face with it, and threw it away. With his chin trembling and a ringing sound in his ears, Joash stood frozen, unsure whether to run and pick up the book or remain where he was. This was the first time I was hearing this story, and I was truly moved with compassion. My eyes flooded with tears as I imagined the loneliness he must have faced at that age, far away from home.

With that memory lingering, let's return to the beginning of Joash's educational journey—where the path of thorns and roses first began.

The Path Laid by God

God not only selects the right homes to send each of those children but also paves a way for them to trek, providing people and angels to lead them on. But on those paths, everything is not roses, but mixed with thorns. Not everyone is an angel; there are also messengers of evil. Yet, we know that the One who laid the path will lead on until the destiny is reached.

Searching for the Right School

To know how to manage our child’s schooling challenges progressively, day by day, we were looking for at least a parent who had trekked that path, or at least a teacher who had succeeded in training a dyslexic child, or a school that truly helped children come and pass through—unlike professionals who could write articles but lacked the know-how in managing the child’s academic development.

Kodaikanal School Opportunity

A family friend, Joseph Jacob, and his wife Laila had guests visiting them at home. They were the Brights, who ran KPS group of schools, including one in Kodaikanal. They discussed our schooling struggles and offered a trial to send Joash to their school in Kodaikanal for a term. Joash was 8 years old and we journeyed to Kodaikanal for the first time, along with a couple of other friends who were also joining the school.

Teachers make a world of Difference

At the school, Mrs. Chen was his class teacher, and Mrs. Frederic was his warden. Mrs. Frederic was an Anglo-Indian, and Mrs. Chen was Chinese. Her husband, Mr. Dennis Chen, was the headmaster of the school. They took care of him. I think almost every week, the students at the boarding school had a time to write letters to their parents.

We looked forward to his letters. In Class II, we assume the content of the letter might have been written on the board by the class teacher, and the ward must have copied it in pencil. The writing in the letters was corrected with an eraser and pencil, likely by Mrs. Chen herself, and she added a few sentences with a blue ink ballpoint pen at the end or back of the page. One such comment reads:

“Joash has improved considerably in his work, but he needs to develop his concentration and understanding power. I am sharing this with you so that when you pray, you will be more specific and thank Jesus for his gradual improvement.” – Mrs. Chen

Occasionally, we had parental visits. Joash made friends easily and adapted well to the school and the climate of the new environment. He had picked up communication skills well. Once, he was infected with chickenpox, and the school management took care of him. He was promoted to Class III with good records.

The next year was different. His new class teacher was much stricter. Joash’s letters were almost similar but corrected by the class teacher with a red pen, like classwork or homework, and initialed by her with the same red pen.

Once, when I visited the school, I had the chance to meet her. She was a young Anglo-Indian from Quilon with excellent communication skills. Her complaint about Joash was that he would ask for permission to go to the dorm to get an eraser or a pencil, and he would hang around there longer or not return. She had several other complaints about his classwork or homework and how he lagged behind in his work.

My response to her was simple: I briefed her about the whole reason why he had been admitted there. For seven days a week, our son was at the school. I had no clue how I could manage his academic discipline if a trained teacher at the school herself didn’t know. As she was just another teacher who couldn’t understand Joash’s potential, we knew Joash would be leaving very shortly.

We are thankful for everyone who came into his life journey. We fondly remember his time at Kodaikanal and all those who were part of it, especially Mr. Prem Bright, who took him in and even offered 75% concession, and those who also helped us pay his fee- Joseph Jacob, C.V. Jacob, and Aaboo Varghese.

I had heard about home-schooling. If parents are capable of handling the education and academic training of children, why should we send him to school at all? We knew, at this phase of life and considering his special needs, that we were not equipped for home-schooling. 

Kody to Kottayam:  Special Learning Center

Joash had lost one year while joining the school at Kodaikanal. After two years there, we tried a special learning center in Kottayam. Mrs. Benjamin from Bangalore was running this center for children with learning issues. She briefed us that we should not keep shopping for schools but leave him in one place for a longer time. By the end of the year, we felt things were not improving much, though we just wanted him to be in a school at least for social reasons. So, we approached another small school in our neighborhood. I spoke with the manager- again, yet another retired professor- and explained everything I could to send our son there. I spoke with the manager—yet another retired professor—and explained everything I could to support our son's enrollment there. By the end of the year, the manager still could not comprehend how Joash was learning differently, let alone the teachers.

Curiosity and Exploration

We were at Japhia’s (Joash’s younger sister who is three years younger and did her KG at a very well-known school) school program, and we were in the open air, almost towards the last rows of the crowd. Suddenly, we noticed that Joash was not with us. I wondered if he had mixed in with the student crowd. Leaving the rest of the family, I began searching for him. I finally located him near the stage with an older boy who was part of a play that had just finished. The boy had a big play gun with him, and I found Joash was learning about the plastic machine gun the boy held.

Joash was very curious, inquisitive, and always exploratory. “How is paint made?” “How does it get its colour?”, “How are timber logs shaped into a chair or a table?” These were just a few of the many questions he would ask. This led me to stop during one of our trips to see how trees were shaped at a sawmill, visit a brickyard to understand how bricks are made, and seek out a chemical engineer to explain how paints were produced.

Joash’s learning style was different, and we often wondered if we were only wasting time trying to orient teachers or school management about his needs, just to keep him there for social reasons.

Tying it all Together
As a faculty member at a college, I once discussed our struggles with Joash’s education with the founder of the institution, a well-read and globally recognized leader. His advice was stern: "You have to break his will. Spank him below the knees to discipline, but not to hurt."

I also spoke with a retired professor, the founder of a counseling institute in Kerala, who, after hearing my concerns, commented, "Not everyone can become a doctor or an engineer; you need to plan his education accordingly." But that was never our concern. We weren’t focused on what Joash should study or become. Our only worry was finding a school or learning environment that suited him—or figuring out how we could better support his growth ourselves. ‘Not many counselors and leaders possess the grace to understand, let alone guide, those they claim to help.’                

Looking back, Joash's educational journey was filled with challenges, unexpected encounters, and valuable lessons. Every teacher, school, and experience—whether kind or tough—played a role in shaping him. While the path was often difficult, it was also a time of growth and resilience. We are deeply thankful to all who crossed his path, each contributing in their own way. His story reminds us that true learning often happens in the most unexpected ways.

To be continued…..

Other Posts: 

III.I Belted My Son

https://dyslexiafailed.blogspot.com/2024/10/i-belted-my-son.html

II.The Learning Began 

https://dyslexiafailed.blogspot.com/2022/07/the-learning-began.html 

I. A New Journey

https://dyslexiafailed.blogspot.com/2022/07/a-new-journey.html

https://sites.google.com/view/philipose-create 

Parenting Through the Tough Times

 

III.  I Belted My Son!

Philipose Vaidyar

A senior and well-known consultant psychiatrist in Kochi (Ernakulam) authored an article in The Week special booklet on Dyslexia. This was the first article I ever read on the subject. If I recall correctly, he mentioned that he had belted his son, unaware of the learning disability factor, a mistake for which his son was not responsible. Awareness of specific learning disabilities like Dyslexia was not common, even among many doctors and educators. We learned about the Child Care Centre in Kochi and waited about two months to get an appointment for a consultation for our son. It was at the billboard there that I first noticed this article.

The Child Care Centre (CCC)

Joash, our son, was just in the first grade. In 1998, we moved to Tiruvalla. After discussing with a close relative, we decided to enroll him at Bala Vihar, a primary school run by a retired college professor. The school’s slogan was, “A small school for small children,” and I believed it would serve our purpose. As schooling progressed, we realized that while he was learning, he did not complete his classwork or homework. Since a colleague’s daughter, Becky, was also in his class, we could always compare their classwork. When Becky had written a page, Joash would have written only a line or, at most, two and a half lines. Most of our after-school time was spent completing his classwork and then his homework.

As a teaching faculty member, we lived in the staff quarters, and Joash could see children playing outside through the window. He wanted to join them, but how could we send him to school the next day with unfinished work? We would pull the curtains and insist he finish his copying before he could play. This often resulted in tears. If we had relaxed, the next meeting with the class teacher would have only brought us shame. “What are you doing at home?” the teacher yelled when we met her on the open day.

I used to drop and pick him up from school, and I noticed that his seat had moved from the front row to the last, though the teacher claimed that seating was rotated. One day, I arrived a bit early before the evening bell. Joash was sitting in the last row, playing with something like a twine or an elastic string while the teacher was teaching. At one point, his bench toppled over, and he fell back against the classroom wall, which was only high enough to reach bench level.

When Joash entered the house, the first thing he would do after taking off his shoes was drop his school bag near the door, remove his shoes, and skid on his socks through the hall as though skating. This was something he could only do at home on the polished floor of the newly built quarters.

He seemed very active, creative, and inquisitive. Every new thing he saw, he wanted to explore, even crawling inside the counter at a shop to check the shelves behind the salesman. In those days, shops typically had table-high shelves in front and behind, with a small half door through which the staff could move. Joash could easily bend and enter for his “research.”

I realized that more than our son, we needed help to support his schooling. So, we made an appointment at the Child Care Centre (CCC) in Kochi to have Joash assessed and learn how to manage his schooling.

After two months of waiting, we visited the CCC. The special educator or psychologist spent some time with us and with Joash. Their report suggested he might be dyslexic, but he was too young to test and confirm. He was also referred to Dr. Dilip (name changed), the psychiatrist whose article I had seen on the notice board. I felt we were on the right path. We located Dr. Dilip’s clinic and waited for our appointment, noticing other parents with their children waiting for reviews.

Dr. Dilip’s consulting room looked like a study. He sat in a revolving chair while Joash and I sat across a sofa. There was a shelf full of reference books. He listened to my story and observed Joash keenly. He also shared stories about Winston Churchill and Edison, who were dyslexic, and showed me some paper clippings about them. He recalled one story where a father asked his son to get something from “the right drawer of the table,” and the son clarified, “Your right or my right?”

I was interested. I leaned over the glass-topped table, and Joash sat on my right. The doctor pointed to a red hardcover book on the shelf and asked Joash to bring it. He opened the glass door and did so, and the doctor opened a page and asked me to read a paragraph. He said Joash was typical of ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) and also showed me a page on ADD.

The doctor prescribed some medications and asked us to return for a review in a month. Since I was not from Kochi, I decided to buy the prescribed drugs there. I remember one of them was called Buscalm. Back in 1998, the internet wasn’t common, and smartphones didn’t exist, so I asked the pharmacist about the uses of tablets. He said it was to calm the user. For hyperactivity, that seemed right to me. On the train back to Tiruvalla with Joash, my curiosity grew. I decided to learn more about ADHD.

ADD and ADHD!

I went to an internet café, which was not common at the time—there were only a couple of them in town—and I began researching ADHD. I printed a good number of pages from my Google search to study in depth. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is a neurodevelopmental condition characterized by persistent patterns of inattention, hyperactivity, and impulsivity. Children with ADHD often struggle to focus on tasks, have difficulty organizing activities, and may exhibit excessive fidgeting or restlessness. This can make schoolwork, which requires sustained concentration and order, particularly challenging. ADHD is not a reflection of intelligence or ability but a difference in how the brain processes information. As I delved deeper into my research and discussed it with some friendly doctors we met in social situations, I began to realize that Joash was not hyperactive as initially diagnosed by Dr. Dilip. So, after the second visit to the doctor, which was just to continue the medication, we decided to stop those drugs and explore other avenues for learning that would better suit his needs.

At Bala Vihar, we met with teachers to discuss the insights from the Child Care Centre, such as the possibility of Joash taking his final tests orally. We spoke with the school principal, Mrs. Athyal, who mentioned she had heard of special learning disabilities from her daughter, a teacher in Australia, but was unsure how to manage it in her school. We also visited the Malayalam, Maths, and EVS teachers at their homes. They understood our concerns and promised to pay special attention to Joash’s work. During the final exam, the EVS teacher conducted the test orally and recorded Joash’s answers, resulting in a 94% score!

This boosted our confidence. When the summer holidays were over, I rode my Bajaj scooter to the school, and as usual, the class results were posted on the wall. Joash’s result was withheld, and a note requested that we meet with the manager, Prof. Titus, a retired professor from Mar Thoma College. When I met him, he said Joash’s answer sheets were almost blank, and he could not be promoted. We left, wondering what to do next.

Ms. Santha Mathai had taken over as the new principal, replacing Mrs. Athyal. Ms. Mathai had recently returned from Dehradun to settle in Kerala and was more aware of children’s special learning needs. In the school office, we met both Prof. Titus and Ms. Mathai. Prof. Titus insisted that Joash could not be promoted as he hadn’t passed his subjects. I reminded him that if Joash had been tested orally, he would have passed, just like in EVS. Ms. Mathai argued that a primary student in Class II should not be held back due to writing issues. Prof. Titus was upset and eventually said, “Then Miss, take care of him.”

So Joash was promoted to Class III, but we continued searching for a more suitable learning environment for him.

Dr. Niramala, a pediatrician, suggested I meet Sreekumar, a teacher at a concept school run by an ashram in Malakkara, Chengannur. I arranged an appointment with Mr. Sreekumar and also spoke with Ms. Santha Mathai. Together, we visited the school to observe their system. It was a different kind of school, full of activities and experiments designed for students to learn at their own pace, with teachers monitoring their progress. There were no homework or impositions, and students only transitioned to the ICSC syllabus in higher classes. Though we couldn’t afford the tuition and Joash didn’t qualify for admission, this visit opened my eyes to the possibility of schools focusing on creating a conducive learning environment.

I continued exploring other school options. Mr. Sreekumar mentioned Labour India School in Marangattupally near Palai, which operated on a kind of Gurukulam concept, at least for after-school hours. The school had staff members who monitored study time and hostel life, especially for students from NRI families. However, after a brief tour and meeting with a staff member, I realized that this school would not suit our needs either.

Fast forward 26 years, and Joash is now thriving as the cofounder of a Medical Tech company, Mykare Health, based in Kochi. His journey from those early struggles to where he stands today is a testament to resilience and finding the right support. However, the path we traveled as parents, and the lessons Joash learned along the way, were filled with challenges and insights that shaped him. Here are a few more of those experiences, which might offer help to others facing similar situations.

To be continued... 

Previous Posts: 

II.The Learning Began 

https://dyslexiafailed.blogspot.com/2022/07/the-learning-began.html 

I. A New Journey

https://dyslexiafailed.blogspot.com/2022/07/a-new-journey.html

https://sites.google.com/view/philipose-create