My name is Faith Tyson. This is the second semester of my freshman year. I just turned seventeen, meaning I was only sixteen when I started here. I graduated high school with a GPA of a four point eight five and one of the highest HSA and SAT scores in my school. Which led me to skip my whole junior year and go from a sophomore straight to a senior. Knowing that I was going to be one of, if not the only sixteen-year old here was terrifying. My reading, writing, and ability to learn fast got me thus far but I had no clue what was going to get me the rest of the way. I was scared, that when I got here I everybody was going to be way smarter than me, and the disability that I have hidden my whole life was actually going to come to the light and finally set me back.
It all began when I was two years old. My mother was in the kitchen and she dropped something, everybody jumped but I didn’t even flinch. As I continued to play with my toy she came up to me and asked me was I ok and did I hear what just happened. I shook my head no; and then looked around, everyone was looking at me and I couldn’t understand why. Until I looked at all the broken glass in front of me. It was then my mother realized something was wrong, I couldn’t hear. She tried to tell my doctors but they wouldn’t listen they claimed I had what every child had, which is what they called selective hearing. Of course, my mother being so stubborn and persistent, that answer was not good enough for her. So she took me to an ENT. They gave me my first ear test and it was discovered I had the ears of an eighty year old women at the age of two. I had holes in my eardrums and all these other problems that caused me not to be able to hear, and that is where my journey of surgeries began.
My mother and father refused to let me fall behind like the doctors claimed I would. I had all the books you could imagine that could fit in one area, it was a library in the back of my closet. They bought me every educational book and toy they could get their hands on. My favorite was the leapfrog tablet, my parents hated how much noise it made, but it kept me occupied. They even let me turn the volume up on my TV extra loud so I could the songs the wiggles would sing, or help Dora find the map. By the time I was four my hearing had gotten worst, but my parents got me tested to get put in school early anyway. Of course I got in. I struggled for a while because my parents didn’t want it to be known to everybody what was wrong with me, because my mom’s biggest fear was they would treat me different and she didn’t want that. I was four but I wasn’t stupid, I knew everything that was going on.
Leapfrog. Leapfrog Leappad2 learning tablet. Youtube.
By second grade I was labeled as a troubled child. I had the reputation of a “bad child” with straight A’s. None of my teachers could understand how that was possible because I never listened and they made sure to make it known how much they didn’t understand it. Until one day my school decided to start doing annual hearing and seeing test. I went and took mines, already knowing what they were going to say. But to my surprise they didn’t say anything, they just stared. A few days later my teachers wanted to have a conference with my parents. This time I could tell something was wrong because the administrators and principal was there too. This time I had did way more than talk too much in class. My mind was racing and my palms were sweating. They sat us down and basically said that I had major hearing loss, and they couldn’t understand how I still functioned, having the best grades in the class. My parents explained to them that they knew everything they was saying. The only they haven’t heard before is that I was in need of glasses. I always sat in the front anyway so I never really noticed. They then went on to say that, I wasn’t bad I just simply couldn’t hear. I couldn’t hear them say sit down or be quiet, by the time I caught the hint I was already getting yelled at. My principal then asked how was I maintaining straight A’s if I couldn’t hear and missing all those days of school. Well little did they know my 2nd grade English teacher Mrs. Spring was tutoring me once a week after school for things I couldn’t receive during class. She was the only one who knew about the problem I was having. The tutoring allowed me to stay caught up and even sometimes ahead. No matter how many days I was out on leave, she refused to let me fail.
Fast forward to fifth grade. It was my last year of elementary school, and one of the hardest years ahead of me. Not only did I just move to Baltimore, but I had to move to a new school too. Where I felt like everybody knew somebody and I knew nobody, and I being shy and introverted was not going to make it easier for me. I went through the first few weeks quiet with no friends. Stuff then started to get easier as time went on. Grades were good (like always) and my social life was booming (great). But right when everything was going good, I got the news that it was time for another surgery. I was out of school for like a week and a half. My teacher and friends called me while I was out, and kept me to date on all the newest drama. By the time I had returned my grades had dropped dramatically and devastated. I no longer had a tutor to keep me on track so I felt like it was the end of the world. My teacher saw a change in my behavior and she sat me down and asked me what was wrong. At that point I just confessed everything I was feeling and going through all my life up until. From that point on, my fifth grade teacher Ms. Bowser was there for me. She natured, cared, and looked out for me like I was one of her own. She felt like the books that were at my school was not advance enough, so she bought me books with her own money. She taught me how to write in cursive, and speak another language. While she taught me the English and literature side of things my art teacher was showing me a different world. He referred to me as a female version of John Brewster Jr. he was a great famous artist that was also deaf. Mr. B showed me how to express my feelings through art, how to draw instead of cry, how to paint instead of mourn. It was a whole new outlet for my feelings. He noticed a talent in me that I didn’t even notice in myself. The confidence that my Ms. Bowser and Mr. B help me build in myself and my parents support help get me through.
John Brewster Jr. Mother with son. Wikipedia. 1799.
Jay Asher. Thirteen Reasons Why. Paulding County Area Foundation.
Over the next few years I tired keeping my head up but my hearing was not getting any better. To the point where I went to the doctors and they told my parents they wanted to open up my head and tap on my skull to send vibrations through my brain. The only thing was if it went wrong I could be brain damaged, or die. So my parents said no. The doctors then wanted to give me a hearing aid, but at the time I was in high school and felt like there was no way I could get a hearing aid without getting bullied. So I said no. After that I could no longer handle the stress of being so “different”. I was in the ninth grade and I just wanted so desperately to fit in. I wasn’t being myself, my grades started dropping and I started to become very violent. It was not till I found myself in the principal’s office for fighting that I then realized the one thing I was not trying to get the best of me, finally did. Tenth grade I was on the roll straight A’s every quarter, in every honors and AP class I could take. It was almost the end of the school year and we had to have our end of the year meeting with the guidance counselor in order to make the class schedule for next year. Before I could make mines, I got called in the office. By the time I got there all my teachers and my principle was there to, they were all sitting at the table. One seat left for me. It all looked so familiar, not in a good way either. When I sat down, it was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Nobody was talking so I asked what I was there for, I asked what did I do? The principal coughed and said well Faith, Ms. Price was going over the classes you need for next year and realized that you only needed two. But the problem was as a junior you didn’t have the option to have a half schedule. So I was either stuck in a school for a year more than I had to be and fill my schedule with a whole bunch of bogus classes or I could just skip my junior year all together. The option was up to me, but I had no idea what to do. Even though I was the smartest one in my grade I was already the youngest. How was I going to survive being a 15 year old senior? I couldn’t even get a job without my parents signing a paper, let alone go to college. It was terrifying, but my parents didn’t let my fears get the best of me they made me realize the bigger picture. I had worked so hard to get where I was, it wasn’t easy but I made it through. And I couldn’t allow my fear to block my blessings. So I did it. I skipped my eleventh grade year. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be, I still came out on top. Ms. Bailey, my twelfth grade English teacher was there for me every step of the way. She made me the writer I am today, she helped me expand my vocabulary and expand my mind as a whole, to be able to look at the world in a whole new light, through words.
Everything that I have been through has made me the person that I am today. The fifth teen plus surgeries I have had over my seventeen years of life has taught me that even though you might go through some rough times, they will make you stronger. They will make you appreciate life and what life has to offer. My dream job is to an SVU detective, and I will not allow my disability to hold me back. I will use the reading and writing tools I learned over the years to prefect my craft, and when the time is right I will be able to teach my own kids the things the wonderful people in my life taught me. I always tell people they see my glory, but they don’t know my story.
