Finding Refuge in Reading: A Message to Black Dyslexics (Guest Blog)

If you are dyslexic like me, you may have already highlighted the first few paragraphs of this post, selected the accessibility option to “Speak”, and found your device is now effortlessly uttering these words. If you are dyslexic like me, it might feel a little dishonest to call this way of interpreting text “reading” - but let me assure you that you are reading. If you are a Black dyslexic like me, I encourage you to keep reading.

 

Some of you may be young readers who have just begun to connect with the words around you. Some may have found a refuge in the lyrics of MC’s like Kendrick Lamar or the late Nipsey Hussle. For some of you, your minds are still whirling after listening to Amanda Gordon’s spoken-word poetry performance during President Biden and Vice-President Harris’ inauguration. No matter how you discovered the writing of Black artists, know that you have stepped across the threshold of a home which was built for you. This sanctuary’s foundations are strengthened by contemporary authors like Ta-Nehisi Coates, Ibram X. Kendi and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Keep moving forward into this expanse of ideas and narratives.

 

The past twelve months have been incredibly challenging for all Americans. In addition to a massive loss of life, the worst pandemic in living memory has dramatically altered the way we work, go to school, and socialize. For the Black members of the American family, many of us were just shaking off the lingering damage caused by the 2008 economic crisis when we were hit disproportionately hard by COVID-19. As the virus cut through our community, the killings of Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd and Breonna Taylor reminded us of the predatory relationship we often feel while interacting with law enforcement officers and the larger criminal justice system.

 

As dyslexics, I know many of us are still haunted by the traumatic experiences we endured as struggling students. I have met adults with learning disabilities who flatly refused to pick up a book once they graduated from high school. What I am postulating here is that reading is more than an academic exercise to endure, or the occasional vocational necessity. Reading is self-care. Reading can be a means to connect with those who have lived through circumstances similar to your own. During the past year, I found myself desperately needing to hear from Black writers.

 

While watching President Trump refuse to openly condemn organizations like The Proud Boys, I went back to the writing of Octavia E. Butler. Like us, Butler was a Black dyslexic, and she stands as one of the most notable figures to write in the genre of speculative fiction. In 1998, Butler published “Parable of the Talents.” Within this story, Butler presents a dystopian future where a 2023 presidential candidate named Senator Andrew Steele Jarret uses the campaign slogan “Make America Great Again.” This charismatic leader courts the support of violent nationalist groups which are known to burn the homes of people that disagree with their beliefs. 

 

Within the story, Butler’s protagonist is a Black woman who analyzes Senator Jarrett’s public statements by saying, “Jarret condemns the burnings, but does so in such mild language that his people are free to hear what they want to hear.” Through Butler’s fiction, we can find insights into the way real-life politicians play word games baiting supporters with nostalgia while refusing to condemn the more violent members of their base. Butler is just one example of the many Black writers you can turn to while seeking to make sense of today’s political climate.

 

I hope you know the entire world of writing is at your disposal, and I want you to be free to explore any author you feel pulled to read. As a poet, and an advocate for people with disabilities, I believe wholeheartedly in the power that all art has to uplift and inform. In August 2013, The Yale Center for Dyslexia and Creativity organized a Multicultural Dyslexia Initiative. I was at this event, and one of the moments that stood out to me came during a Q&A with the singer and civil rights icon Harry Belafonte, which was facilitated by Reverend Keith L. Magee. I recall Belafonte saying, “If we remove the humanities from education, you are regulating people to be oppressed by prejudice and bigotry.” I believe the words of Black writers are a well we can go to whenever we find ourselves thirsting for ways to address the prejudice and bigotry which has become so blatantly targeted at us in recent years.

 

My relationship with reading has always been complicated. I was first diagnosed with a learning disability at nine years old, and I remained a student in special education until graduation. The first books I remember looking forward to reading were secondhand comic-books. These books were given to me by a local barber who wanted to reward me for sitting patiently in his shop as I waited my turn for a haircut. I loved the artwork that helped to tell those superhero stories. The short bits of dialogue delivered in every speech balloon helped me to practice reading without becoming overwhelmed. 

 

My first exposure to poetry were the Last Poet albums my mother played for me on Saturday mornings, when I was still in elementary school. The art of the Black Liberation Movement from the 1960’s and 1970’s was given to me as a gift from my mother who must have already seen signs I could not read as well as other children my own age. Poems like “When the Revolution Comes” and “On the Subway” informed my earliest understanding of the artist’s role in political struggle.

 

As a college student, I benefited from using a disability support program on campus that enabled us to use academic accommodations like recorded versions of our textbooks. In one of my first English classes, Professor Benjamin V. Marshall assigned my class “The Norton Anthology of African-American Literature.” The printed book also came with an audio CD of work songs like “John Henry” and speeches like Malcolm X’s “The Ballot or the Bullet.” These recordings were added to the anthology to honor our people’s rich connection to the oral tradition. For me, words only come alive when I can hear them moving through the air.

 

Black dyslexics - there has never been a time where more content has been available to people who find reading difficult, and I encourage you to keep reading. Buy digital copies of books and let your screen reader translate the text into speech. Buy an audio version of a book and enjoy the author’s words along with the reader’s performance. If you should choose to wrestle with a printed text, please give yourself the gift of extra time and a quiet space to read. As a dyslexic, give yourself grace for not being able to immediately decode every word. Remember, the writers of those words love you. They applaud your effort and are thankful you chose to struggle with their prose or their verse.

 

 

LeDerick Horne is a poet, disability advocate, co-author of the book “Empowering Students with Hidden Disabilities: A Path to Pride and Success”, and the creator of the video series “Celebrating Black History and People with Disabilities.” www.lederick.com