I don’t doubt the school did everything they could to help me, this was the tail end of the 90s and the data and tools we have now didn’t exist. It was the summer before fifth grade, and I was being advanced while the reading tests showed I was two years behind my peers. Teachers weren’t inclined to check into my home life or experiences, nor did they know to look at its influence. Thanks to current research it’s becoming more apparent that children need stable home environments in order to flourish. I have no doubt that my home environment and previous traumatic experiences shaped my education up to that point. If it hadn’t been for interventions from Ni-kahk (paternal grandmother) and a handful of other adults that would influence my life I wouldn’t be the person I am today.
Since it was a year-round school, we had longer breaks throughout the year but a shorter summer, ensuring continuous education. During those breaks, my paternal grandparents stepped up and offered to bring us to Tucson, relieving my mother of the burden of childcare as she worked full-time. During this time, I recall the moment Ni-kahk (my paternal grandmother) taught me the skill that would change my way of thinking forever; she taught me how to teach myself. She refused to accept that I couldn’t read proficiently. It wouldn’t be until much later in life I learned this was likely because my grandmother volunteered teaching illiterate people to read.
During the initial days of our visit, we established rules, went grocery shopping, bought clothes, art supplies, and craft materials. Ni-kahk (my paternal grandmother) even opened her computer to create schedules and routines for us. During this time, she took us to visit Bookman’s, a local book reseller and store. I’d brought the first Harry Potter book I checked out from the school library and was excited to get the next one. I told her I wanted to read the next Harry Potter book despite tests indicating I couldn’t read and comprehend the story as it was above my grade level. She was all on board and encouraged me to read it, incentivizing me to keep going saying she’d buy me all the available books if I finished the first one. It wouldn’t be until later that she’d take a private moment with me and begin to use her gentle persuasion to help guide me.
The details are a bit fuzzy. I don’t remember there being anyone except us. She took one of her Bibles and asked me to read a passage. I don’t remember the one she chose, but nervously I stumbled and stuttered through the chosen passage until I’d gotten to an unfamiliar word, going quiet, letting tears fall down my face silently. I was petrified, afraid of how she’d react if I made a sound. Rather than getting upset or angry, Ni-kahk (my paternal grandmother) approached the situation with curiosity, empathy, and understanding. She had a soothing and calming effect when using words. She asked me why I was crying without judgment in her tone. As I continued sobbing, with the usual suspects of guilt, shame, and fear taking hold, she comforted me, held my hand, hugged me, and handed me tissue paper to calm down. Allowing me to feel my emotions and soothe myself with her support.
Although I don’t remember the exact conversation after I explained that I didn’t know the word and I was afraid of getting it wrong, she assured me it was okay to stumble over words, it was okay not to know how to pronounce it. She asked me about the context of what I read and I coyly announced my thoughts. I was close and she explained to me that as long as I understood the words meaning within the story’s context, I could keep reading and look up the word when I got to the end of a sentence. It was a revelation, an invitation to approach reading with curiosity and a sense of discovery over the almost paralyzing anxiety I’d feel. This helped reframe my thought process around reading, encouraging me to ask myself, “What do you think this means?” Arming me with a dictionary, she taught me to break down words further, a habit I’m proud to maintain today. Even if I sometimes still pronounce a word wrong. Thanks to technology, I no longer carry a mini complete set of dictionaries in my purse, though.
Ni-kahk (my paternal grandmother) gave me the power to rewrite my future in that moment. She instilled confidence in me and inspired me by validating my feelings. That single moment defined and created the foundation for how I approach life. She taught me to break down words into smaller parts to conquer my linguistic fear. Armed with her guidance and a trusty dictionary, I embarked on a relentless journey of infinite exploration. Delving into books, I immersed myself in words and previously unknown worlds. The more I read, the more my confidence grew and the more I could escape my harsh reality.
Eventually we went to the local Bookman’s to collect the third book of the Harry Potter series. I also got my copy of the first book. I believe the fourth book was set to be released the following year, and subsequently, I would continue to read the series as they were released. After that heartfelt moment with Ni-kahk (paternal grandmother), my love for books, dictionaries, and any scrap of paper with words on it intensified. I’d read anything that crossed my path. No formal teaching or learning was required because I had the tools and confidence to figure it out. I became obsessed with having dictionaries around, and my reading habit became unstoppable. By sixth grade, I caught up to my peers and read at the same level as everyone else. The journey didn’t end there. By seventh grade my reading level maxed out the tests and I was reading and comprehending at a college level. Something one of my siblings reminded me of just before I went no contact with them.
My enthusiasm for reading never waned, I still read and look up words in my Google Dictionary. That lesson not only impacted my ability to read, it taught me how to teach myself. That lesson evolved into a passion for research and learning. Ni-kahk (paternal grandmother) may not have realized how that moment would set the tone for how I’d go about life, she was simply being compassionate. Unfortunately the subsequent traumatic events that impacted my life also played a huge role in me becoming hyper-independent and twisting this ability into a detriment throughout my twenties. I was so set on doing everything myself that I made a series of decisions that would negatively impact my educational pursuits.
An article I read stated “that home environment hinders or supports children’s overall development. Parents’ attitudes play a dominant role and where it is supportive enhances children performances and has positive impacts on child’s development. Interactions of family members are contributive for students’ as it enables them to improve their linguistic, social and intellectual skills. There is evidence that supportive home environment enhance child’s confidence in his/herself, enable them to be sociable. This confidence helps students in developing their adjustment capabilities in different environments which positively influences students’ educational performances.”
In my teen years I developed an attitude of “Why go to anyone for help when I could hide the fear, shame and guilt by figuring it out on my own?” It’s how I prevailed in the years when Nisije’e (means: my real mother) had relapsed. Not letting anyone know what was happening in our home was one of the biggest regrets I carried with me until these last five years, and therapy taught me that I was a child, and I did what I could, my environment was not my fault. I responded in the way that inter-generational trauma has inflicted so many others.
My life has taken many turns since I started this blog and the last year I’ve heavily neglected what I was trying to do here. More recently, the begining and ending of a romantic relationship threw me off course. I’ve started posting on social media again, and if you follow along on my TikTok, I’ve been speaking up about the many ways I’ve been working to heal myself and bring awareness to mental health as a whole. We ourselves cannot heal this planet until we start healing ourselves.
AI transparency and ethics note: This blog has been reviewed and edited with the assistance of Chat GPT technology to enhance punctuation, grammar, and readability.
finding himdag 