Math can be a Foreign Language: Dr. Long Translates

Imagine this: You’re in a foreign country and you walk around listening to the locals talk to one another in their native tongue. They all act like it’s easy and like they actually enjoy it!  You just stand there….dumbfounded….. overwhelmed…. and lost. Then they try to talk to you! They want you to engage with this language too? Oh no, not going to happen. You get that “deer in the headlights” look, you start to sweat, and you feel so embarrassed and uncomfortable because you can’t understand what you’re hearing.

Unfortunately, a scenario similar to this one is all too familiar for some learners. This is how some feel when they look at a sheet of paper with a math problem on it or when they are sitting in the classroom and their teacher is going on about everything from addition to the z-intercept.

Book Magic

by Bren Alvarez, Stern Center Parent

The “not learning to read thing” kind of creeps up on you slowly. For my son and me, it was like this:

We loved to read together. Well, actually, I read to him, and he loved his books.

Our shelves were overflowing with books. “Will you read to me?” I would ask him. “No, I like it when you read to me,” he would answer. “That’s ok,” I would think. Then I would tell him, “I’ll read to you. I like to read to you and soon you will be in Kindergarten and you will be reading on your own.”

Then there was Kindergarten and lots of new things to learn and new books to read. I read to him and he loved the new books.

“Will you read to me?” I would ask him. “No, I like it when you read to me,” he would answer. “That’s ok,” I would think. Then I would tell him. “I’ll read to you. I like to read to you and soon you will be in first grade and you will be reading on your own.”

The school conference was so reassuring: Kids learn to read at their own pace and boys, well, boys, they often learn to read later. He is a bright and inquisitive boy. English is his second language and he works hard in his ELL group.

And then there was first grade and second grade and nothing changed. There were lots of new things to learn and new books to read. I read to him and he loved the new books. The school conference was reassuring.

And then there was third grade. But, in third grade they aren’t really learning to read. They are reading to learn. And I still read to him.

I Just Wish to Be Like Me

by Matt Zahn

The following is a college application essay written by Stern Center alum, Matt Zahn, that talks about his struggles with dyslexia and his determination in finding his own success:

Life is full of ironies. Throughout childhood kids are constantly seeking to be like everyone else. They long to be part of a larger group where they can identify and blend, such as the soccer team, scouts, band or the local ballet troupe. Groups offer a comfort and stability from the angst of youth. Before long, high school, senior year and college applications roll around. Suddenly kids must stand out from the crowd. They can no longer afford to blend in. Young adults must stand on their own two feet, advocate for themselves and navigate the college admissions process. For most this is a dramatic and uncomfortable change; for others, however, being different has been a way of life.

The scene: a Norman Rockwell classroom, the sound of children running by laughing candidly, the raw warmth of recess-sun-kissed skin, the smell of Fritos hanging in the air. This is my life in third grade. The matronly teacher, Mrs. McCloud, herds the children into the circle of chairs to read Dr. Seuss’ I Wish That I Had Duck Feet. Everyone follows along with their fingers, each taking a turn to read paragraphs rhythmically. It’s my turn to read. Letters float off the page before me.

                                                             Iw ish
                                                             thatI haddu ckfeet
                                                             An dIca nte llyouw hy.
                                                             Youca nspl asharo undin duck feet.
                                                             Youdo n’tha vetok eepth emdry.

Suddenly, I’m sweaty and fidgety. I lean back on my chair so far I fall over. The class erupts in ripples of laughter. All order is lost. Phew.

In the Spotlight: Stern Center Instructor, Sandy Boyer

by Sandy Boyer

Stern Center alum gearing up to graduate from college with a education degree.

One of the benefits of being a Stern Center instructor is that, unlike teachers in a school system, I will oftentimes begin with a student who is just learning to read in first or second grade, and remain with that student through middle school, and in unique cases, all the way through high school. 

I had a visit this morning from one of my former students, Owen Hartman, who studied with me from second grade through junior high school to overcome struggles resulting from dyslexia. By the time he reached high school he no longer needed additional Stern Center support, and his learning challenges did not in any way slow his path towards college. 

Owen is now nearing the end of college and will student teach next fall in a first grade classroom to complete his major in education. He has aspirations to continue on to a Master's level and is considering a focus in special education. I was so happy to hear he had chosen this path because as a teacher he will inspire young students with his kindness, understanding, patience and pleasant sense of humor.