“We think your child has some difficulties with her writing. She’s six years old and does not hold her pencil correctly, or form legible letters. We’re not sure yet, but are looking into it,” said the teacher. All I heard was “You didn’t do a good enough job for her. You’ve failed as a mother. Why did you not put in more effort?”
I got her tested, and after reassurance from the occupational therapist that it was visual motor integration (VMI) delay and fully reversible, I managed to breathe a little easy. VMI involves effective, efficient communication between the eyes and the hands so that you are able to copy, draw or write what you see. Kids who struggle to integrate or coordinate their visual systems and their motor systems may struggle with handwriting as well as with other school skills.
My daughter has always been a tiny child for her age, skinniest among her peers, shy and clingy. Constant comments from relatives about her weight and me not doing enough about it were always looming as a guilt factor, even though the paediatrician reminded me often that she is perfectly healthy. Now, an additional issue--especially connected with education in the Indian schooling system--made me question my competence, adding worry to the ever-present guilt.
This guilt, along with apprehension and fear of how good our children are in this race for being the best, is an added burden for us new-age mums. Are we doing enough? I am a firm believer that the lesser classes my daughter takes up, the more she will enjoy her childhood; so while her peers, at age five, were learning Spanish and Mandarin, practising dance forms such as Kathak and ballet, and indulging in high-intensity sports, I decided that if mine shows a keenness, I’ll enroll her. Else, she can go to the garden every evening to play--all these activities can be taken up when she is older. Now, I asked myself if not pushing her was a good decision: Maybe in this competitive world, a child has to be at par with its peers.
Paranoid me spoke to a few parents whose children have a difficulty in learning, to see how they coped with this constant pressure of being achievers, and found that the common underlying feeling was stress, anxiety and guilt. The high cost of remedial services, plus children feeling isolated many times in school and outside, added to the negative emotions. Since there is no visible illness, it is difficult to explain to family and friends that their child has a genuine problem and is not simply lazy or dumb.
During the remedial process, I met an old friend and got talking. Her son was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and their whole world turned upside down. There were constant arguments, blame games and the pressure to handle an overactive child. The mother said, “While there was so much harmony between my husband and me earlier, now there are only arguments. Taking my son from one remedial class to another and constantly monitoring his efforts has taken a toll on our relationship. I get angry, shout, follow it up with remorse, then grief; it’s a disruptive cycle. While other mums are speaking of their children’s academic achievements, it’s a task trying to get mine to sit in one place. I’m always concerned how he will manage on his own, and how understanding everyone around will be to him.”
Not understanding why they can’t cope in this standardised world, and without proper support from parents and teachers, leaves many children with low self-esteem.
Another friend whose child was diagnosed with dyslexia recounts how she broke down during the movie Taare Zameen Par. “While watching the movie, my husband and I could not stop sobbing. Our son was of the same age as the boy, and our behaviour was exactly like the parents in the movie. Neither we nor the school understood that he may have problems with learning, and kept making things difficult for him when he could not decipher letters or would struggle with simple math. Though most schools recognise and understand the problem now, it wasn’t so then; it was hard-hitting for us to realise how harsh we were on our son for no fault of his.”
There is also a constant worry as to how the world perceives their child, which keeps mothers on the edge--especially in social situations.
The key here is a good support system for parents and children, which is often amiss in India. Educators, parents and caretakers should be trained on how they must cope with children who have difficulties and make the atmosphere conducive for learning. Every child is special and reminding them of it is of the utmost importance; but along with that, every parent should also be reminded that this is just a bump in their child’s long road ahead, and learning difficulties--although challenging--can be tackled effectively.
I once read a beautiful line, which I repeat often: ‘The child comes first; the disability comes second.’ After blaming myself for not putting in enough effort, I took a step back and reviewed myself. While I am in no ways a perfect mother, my child having visual motor integration delay is no fault of mine. Accepting this has been tough; nevertheless, it is the truth. Maybe she will overcome it with all the assistance I can provide. Maybe she won’t. But that’s alright. What I--and mothers like me--need to focus on is how we can help our children be fine with themselves, and accepting of all their abilities and flaws. Without the guilt.