Written with heartfelt thanks for a teacher who taught with heart and inspired me to write.
a school photo--circa 1970s
Thank you, Mrs. Danielson
Mrs. Danielson, my junior high English teacher was young, pretty, and newly married to a local farmer. Her love of literature was evident. She introduced us to Margaret Laurence and John Steinbeck and Alice Munro and…
These books made me want to write. And so...
“I’ve enjoyed reading all your stories,” Mrs. Danielson stood proudly, without fear in front of her desk. Oh, how I wanted to be as confident. “But I especially enjoyed this one.” She waved a paper. “And I know you will too. Listen.”
Several paragraphs in I realized that she was reading my story. I felt exposed, vulnerable. I felt a little embarrassed because I had a hard time realizing that something I did could have earned such praise. But I also felt pride—pride that I wrapped in steel to protect it, to protect me.
My classmates began to whisper. “You wrote that?”
“No” after “No” until…
Mrs. Danielson finished reading the story, walked down the rows of desks and stood in front of me. “A+, Leanne.” She placed the paper on my desk.
Red ink dotted my paper—circling misspelled, misused words—but at the top of that paper were the words Very creative! Well done!
Look how far we've come: Positive change since the very first Dyslexia Awareness Month
by Scanning Pen
More of my writing about being dyslexic... Each of these stories received 1000 page views. Thank you for supporting me.
What was it like for me to be a dyslexic student in an elementary classroom? Well, kind of like this...
is a short memoir about my experiences as an elementary school pupil with dyslexia.
What is it like to be an author with dyslexia?
When I was a child I thought something was wrong with my brain. I'm dyslexic. Now I think... Well, now I think differently. Here's why...
Little was known about dyslexia in rural Manitoba in the late 60s and early 70s. So, perhaps, it's not surprising that my principal should pronounce me ineducable. What is surprising is that teachers step up to prove him wrong. Student-first teachers have always been and will continue to be my heroes. I wrote this short story to honour them.
My grade one teacher, Mrs. Blue, wrote a comment on my report card, 'Leanne tries very hard but...' and advised my parents to have me tested at the children's hospital in Winnipeg.
Over fifty years later, this is my account of being assessed with dyslexia.
On this blog...
Sunday, October 19 to Sunday, February 8, 2026
(at approximately 4:45 PM PT)
