Mario, what do you get when you cross an insomniac, an unwilling agnostic and a dyslexic?I give.You get someone who stays up all night torturing himself mentally over the question of whether or not there's a dog.
I amMavis Elizabeth Betterly.I amused to hard work.I canrun a household betterthan Mrs. Oblinger ever could.What does it matter,those thingsthat hold me back?What does it matterwhen I make mistakes?They don't make mewhoIam.
Love every child without condition, listen with an open heart, get to know who they are, what they love, and follow more often than you lead.
Children with disabilities are stronger than we know, they fight the battles that most will never know.
Julian had heard stories-whispers really-of other Shadowhunter children who thought or felt differently. Who had trouble focusing. Who claimed letters rearranged themselves on the page when they tried to read them. Who fell prey to dark sadnesses that seemed to have no reason, or fits of energy they couldn't control.Whispers were all there were, though, because the Clave hated to admit that Nephilim like that existed. They were disappeared into the 'dregs' portion of the Academy, trained to stay out of the way of other Shadowhunters. Sent to the far corners of the globe like shameful secrets to be hidden. There were no words to describe Shadowhunters whose minds were shaped differently, no real words to describe differences at all.Because if there were words, Julian thought, there would have to be acknowledgement. And there were things the Clave refused to acknowledge.
Teachers should be made aware of visual stress symptoms and the potential difference coloured lights, overlays and lenses could make to a learners perception.
When I told my teachers I wanted to be a writer, alot of them encouraged me to lower my expectations and to be more realistic. So I rode away on my magical, winged horse, spraying faerie dust behind me, and laughing manically as I went.