When I was in the Infirmary, the room that I was in, had a television set...
So I could watch TV whenever I wanted to. Although I didn't have my trusty typewriter with me to write letters, at least I had a television, which allowed me to keep up with the news.
So when a particular news channel happened to feature a report on the subject of Hyperactivity/Attention Deficit Disorder, it immediately caught my attention. It's a topic I know a lot about from personal experience.
For me, ADD was a nightmare. I didn't do well in public school. I was your proverbial "problem child." Unable to sit still, even for a few minutes, and with my mind seeming to go every which way while the teacher spoke, certainly demonstrated that I had a learning disorder.
I was by no means stupid. But having difficulty concentrating made learning a challenge. My mind wandered. My attention was elsewhere. Thus, trying to get me to sit still was like trying to teach a wild bull how to dance. It was simply not going to happen.
Unfortunately for me, back when I attended public school in the late 1950s and into the 60s, Hyperactivity and Attention Deficit Disorder were yet to be recognized. So it went undiagnosed and untreated. Therefore, whenever I would act up, I got scolded and punished. Shame and humiliation awaited those who suffered from what was later to be known as ADD.
Such punishments included verbal tirades from teachers, to having to sit in a high chair in the back of the classroom with my face toward the wall. Even having my third grade teacher, Mrs. Drucker, grab me by the ear and parade me around the classroom while at the same time verbally ridiculing me and calling me a "bad boy," gave my classmates something to laugh at.
It was no wonder that when school ended at three o'clock, I would run all the way home as fast as I could. I would then quickly take off my stuffy school outfit, put on my dungarees, and jump on my bicycle and peddle for hours in order to burn off excess energy.
For me, school was a nightmare. It was an unpleasant experience. And I'm sure it was for countless others as well. In years past, there was little pity nor patience for those who were different. Nor was there much available for helping students who had special behavioral needs like I did.
Thankfully, this is changing. But for kids like me who attended public schools in years past, this was not the case. All these years later, bitter memories of my days in New York City's public school system remain.
D.B.
So when a particular news channel happened to feature a report on the subject of Hyperactivity/Attention Deficit Disorder, it immediately caught my attention. It's a topic I know a lot about from personal experience.
For me, ADD was a nightmare. I didn't do well in public school. I was your proverbial "problem child." Unable to sit still, even for a few minutes, and with my mind seeming to go every which way while the teacher spoke, certainly demonstrated that I had a learning disorder.
I was by no means stupid. But having difficulty concentrating made learning a challenge. My mind wandered. My attention was elsewhere. Thus, trying to get me to sit still was like trying to teach a wild bull how to dance. It was simply not going to happen.
Unfortunately for me, back when I attended public school in the late 1950s and into the 60s, Hyperactivity and Attention Deficit Disorder were yet to be recognized. So it went undiagnosed and untreated. Therefore, whenever I would act up, I got scolded and punished. Shame and humiliation awaited those who suffered from what was later to be known as ADD.
Such punishments included verbal tirades from teachers, to having to sit in a high chair in the back of the classroom with my face toward the wall. Even having my third grade teacher, Mrs. Drucker, grab me by the ear and parade me around the classroom while at the same time verbally ridiculing me and calling me a "bad boy," gave my classmates something to laugh at.
It was no wonder that when school ended at three o'clock, I would run all the way home as fast as I could. I would then quickly take off my stuffy school outfit, put on my dungarees, and jump on my bicycle and peddle for hours in order to burn off excess energy.
For me, school was a nightmare. It was an unpleasant experience. And I'm sure it was for countless others as well. In years past, there was little pity nor patience for those who were different. Nor was there much available for helping students who had special behavioral needs like I did.
Thankfully, this is changing. But for kids like me who attended public schools in years past, this was not the case. All these years later, bitter memories of my days in New York City's public school system remain.
D.B.
