Rog Ts Dyslexia Blog - I can emphatically say I am terrified of words

 emphatic

/ɪmˈfatɪk/

Emphatic means expressed, spoken, or done in a strong, forceful, and clear way that leaves no doubt. 

Key Meanings and Uses

Forceful expression: Showing strong feeling or a definite opinion, such as giving an emphatic "no" or an emphatic "yes".
Clear results: Describing a very decisive outcome, like an emphatic sports victory.
Grammar: Referring to a word or structure used to add special force, such as using "do" for emphasis (e.g., "I do want to go")

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What is your greatest fear? Well I am terrified of snakes and I don't want to get eaten by crocodiles, but the thing I have most nightmares about is school. I didn't do well at school and I used to dread the end of the summer holiday and the start of another whole year. That is why I hate September. There were many things I hated, but most of all, the very worst bit was spelling tests at St Vincents Primary. Every week, we'd be given a list of 20 words to learn. On Monday we were given a spelling test and every week I'd do atrociously. I didn't know I was dyslexic, the word 'thick' was the more general term back then. Almost as much as I hated the tests, I hated parents evenings. For everyone who got all of the words right, there was a chart and you got a star. Most of the kids had lots, I had none. My parents concluded that this was laziness. I got locked in the shed and told to do my homework and learn my words, I was let out after an hour, having worked really hard at learning the spellings. I still got them all wrong, Now you may think that the teachers should have realised. My brother in law, who is a retired teacher saw a post where I featured a page of schoolwork and he said it would take him three seconds to realise I was dyslexic. For me the whole thing was a ritual weekly humiliation. 

I am now sixty four. I've written a blog for eighteen years that has had nearly 12 million views. You'd think I would be over it. Last night, I woke up at 3.15am and I was in a state of panic. Why? I had been having a dream, where I was back at school having a spelling test. The teacher said the word "EMPHATIC" and I had to write down the spelling. E-M came easily. Then I started to think is it EMFATICK, no that might sound right but it don't look right. EMFATYC, that's definitely wrong??? Is there a P in there EMPATIC, no cause the word FAT is in the middle. By now the teacher had read two more words, and I was panicing. Then (in the real world), my big fat geriatric dog, who was sleeping on my mattress, also had a nightmare and kicked me and woke me up. I still couldn't remember. The harder I tried, the worse it got. So I googled it. As soon as I saw what came up, it made perfect sense.

But I was lying there thinking I know what the meaning of the word EMPHATIC is, I use it all the time. Does the fact that I can't arrange the letters correctly make me stupid. I think that one of the biggest problems for dyslexics is that the English language uses ridiculously non phonetic rules and then half the time, it breaks its own rules. I put the dictionary definition of the word at the top of the blog. Look at the phonetic spelling. That is what we have to contend with. I wonder if English was properly phonetic, whether people like me who have mild to moderate dyslexia would cope? The problem for me was it caused stress and my mind went blank. 

Yesterday, my band, The False Dots, did a gig at The York Rise Street Party in Camden. It is the third largest street festival in London, with over 40,000 people attending. As often happens at such events, people come up to me and compliment me on the lyrics of my songs. After, a lovely Irish lady who was a writer asked if she could have a look at them and complimented me on them. So it seems that perhaps, I have a degree of talent with the language. But I still wake up at night in a panic over the speling of words. What does all of this mean? Well, one thing is that I don't actually like discussing my writing. On numerous occasions, pedants have told me "You write a great blog but your spelling and grammar is atrocious, why don't you get AI to check it?". The reason is because the whole bloody point is to show that you can write an interesting blog without needing to. Part of what I want to do is get the message out to other dyslexics is that it doesn't matter, say what you want to say. 

I am neither a moron or a genius, although people have accused me of both. There was even a time when a rumour went around that I didn't write my blog, some shadowy figure behind the scenes did. The reason? No one as thick as me could possibly have dug up so much stuff to embarass Barnet Council. The stupid idiots failed to realise I drink with dustmen, roadsweepers, teachers and office staff at Barnet. They knew that they could tell me stuff and I wouldn't dob them in it. Oddly, Tory councillors were the best source of all. The sensible ones. They knew that what I was writing was right and so helped me make the case against outsourcing. Secret papers would get posted through the door. I couldn't say what was in them, but I could ask questions. Barnet Council changed the rules on public questions at meetings as a result. At one meeting, I had the amusing spectacle of a committee member, who had leaked papers to me, accusing me of having received secret papers, which is against the law. He later said he'd asked it to throw the rest of them off the scent. My response "Yes, I have read the papers, but I no longer have them, as they were secret and had to be disposed of to prevent them falling into the wrong hands". The point was that dyslexia was irrelevant. The content was what mattered. This is always what matters. Never forget that.  My parents were deeply embarrassed that I was the only kid in the class with no spelling stars. Beyond that though, it mattered not a jot, apart from the odd sleepless night.