Fish In A Tree

“Have you liked playing chess?”

I nod, hoping we can play today.

“You know, I had a feeling you would be good at it. I think your mind learns in pictures, and it helps you be a really good chess player. We’ve played several times now and you have learned it fast and improved a lot without much time. Also, thinking in pictures?” He leans forward. “It’s one of the reasons you are such a good artist.”

“Okay,” I say, thinking this all sounds good so far. The only thing that worries me is that it won’t work. I still won’t be able to read.

“Good, then,” he says. “We’re going to practice writing letters. But we won’t use paper and pencil.” Then he pulls out a huge metal sheet and hands me a bottle of shaving cream. “We’re going to use this, and by writing in shaving cream, you’ll use sight and touch, and write large enough to use your whole arm. Just more ways for the signals to get delivered to your amazing brain.”

I smile.

“Now, fill that giant sheet with foam and let’s get started.”
As I draw my finger through the gooey cream, I think about the words “learning differences.” And I’m filled with fear and happiness and questions. But I’m mostly filled with hope.