I'm not a duck

By John Walsh

Early in his life, John Walsh made a commitment that he would do whatever the Lord told him to do, even if he didn't understand why. This commitment provided a foundation for his life. He has followed God's direction from the heartland of America to a bustling market in Cambodia, from a bus in Jerusalem to a water taxi in Bangkok. John doesn't seek God's direction in every decision he makes, but he has found that God steps in whenever he needs to change course. This book tells about a few times when God interfered with John's plans. This usually brought about a battle of wills between a man and the master of his destiny. The stories of these struggles are written in a casual, authentic voice that invites you to pour a cup of coffee and join John on the front porch. He will touch your heart with his hard-earned insights and delight you with his adventures around the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9781640033122

John Walsh

John Walsh has over 10 years' experience in academic and corporate libraries. He is currently a PhD. Student of the School for Information Resources and Library Science at the University of Arizona in Tucson, AZ. He has been researching the effectiveness of information literacy instruction since 2006 and currently works in access services at Cochise College Libraries in Sierra Vista, AZ.

Book preview

Dumb vs. Smart

I briefly looked at the confusing black marks on the paper in front of me. Immediately, my imagination took over and helped me escape this situation. Instantly, I was somewhere more exciting than in class. In my make-believe world, life was pleasant, with no conflict. It was a safe place, where kids didn’t mock my stuttering, or laugh at my inabilities. Sometimes, I could see myself as a hero, like Hop-along Cassidy, my favorite cowboy. I imagined I was walking through a town in the old West. The town was now safe because I was there. A bad guy turned and was shocked when he saw me coming. He wasn’t fast enough when he pulled his gun. A woman screamed.

John, it’s your turn. Stand up and read the next paragraph.

Reality once again took control. I stood and struggled with each word. The class reminded me that life wasn’t pleasant, safe, or heroic. Their laughter reinforced the fact that I was simply the dumb kid in class.

After I failed first grade, the school passed me on to second grade, thinking I would eventually catch up. Second grade wasn’t any better. So I was passed on to third grade, to fourth grade and to fifth grade.

Today, they would refer to me as a large muscle kinesthetic learner, which means I learn best when I am walking around the room swinging my arms and legs. That wasn’t allowed in class. Back then, no one talked about learning preferences. There were only two categories—smart kids and dumb kids. I was told to sit down and learn. I sat down and learned that I was one of the dumb kids!

I didn’t learn to read in school. The teacher taught it to the class and moved on when the smart kids got it. Almost immediately, they were in material that didn’t make sense to me. When it was time for someone to stand up and read a paragraph, the pretty little girl in the front quickly stood and showed off her reading skills. Thankfully, I was rarely called on because of my speech problems.

My mother finally decided to teach me to read. She went to the store and bought a phonics course. Every evening, she spread those materials across her bed and the two of us sat there, and she taught me to read—one-on-one. Her years of teaching Sunday school taught her patience. She didn’t move on when I couldn’t understand something. She never laughed when I stumbled over simple words. Finally, I got it. I could read!

It didn’t improve my status at school. Only in the lower grades did teachers praised a child for learning to read. I was simply expected to use that skill to learn academic material. Again, the smart kids understood what she was saying, and it was lost on me.

I remember teachers telling me, John, you’re not trying. At the time, I believed they were telling me the truth. I knew I was the problem, but I didn’t know what trying was. I just knew I wasn’t doing it. They said, You need to focus more. Again, I believed them, but I didn’t know what focus was, or how to do it.

The thing I heard the most was, John, you’re not motivated. You need to get motivated. Oh, I really wanted a good dose of motivated. I just didn’t know how to get it.

By the end of fifth grade, my mother realized I wasn’t learning anything. All the talk about me catching up wasn’t happening. She went to the school and said, I don’t want him passed on to the next grade until he learns the material.

So I repeated fifth grade. Even I was convinced this was a good idea. Surely, I could excel at fifth grade if I was given another chance. Unfortunately, I didn’t do any better. I sat in class just as confused as the first time. I was still the dumb kid in class, with one distinct difference: I was now the big dumb kid in class. At the end of that year, they had no choice but to pass me on to sixth grade and then on to seventh.

Finally, I got into high school. My guidance counselor made something very clear to me. John, this is where it stops. You have been passed from one grade to the next, but now everything is different. In high school, we have credits. If you don’t earn credits, you don’t graduate.

The administration thought I would simply drop out of school. Most people with large muscle kinesthetic learning problems usually gave up, left school, and got a job. I knew other kids could do that, but I didn’t know I could. My mother said, Walshes don’t drop out of school. So the school was stuck with me.

I was told, If you take your books home, you’ll make better grades. Well, I wanted to make better grades, so I took my books home every day. I put them by the front door so I wouldn’t forget them in the morning. It didn’t make any difference at all. I still got poor grades.

After four years, I found out my guidance counselor had lied to me. The school decided, Let’s give him a diploma. He’s not going to do anything with it. He’ll simply put it in a drawer and get a job. With that, I was graduated from high school.

My mother had a strong desire that all her children would go to college. They didn’t have to finish; they just had to go. So I packed up all my learning problems and headed off to college.

2

Jan

In college, I discovered the secret I had been looking for. It was the secret of how a person with major learning problems can learn, pass all the classes, and even achieve a college degree.

Back in elementary school and high school, I dreamed of doing better with my studies. It never happened. But my dream of doing better was even greater when I thought of going to a Christian college. I was hoping that going to a Bible College was like going to an overgrown summer Bible camp. I always did well there, so maybe Bible College would be the same.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. College proved to be the same, but more so. I struggled, and struggled, and struggled. After several years, I finally decided to drop out. I didn’t want to continue my frustration. So I prepared to drop out, get a job, and make the best of it.

But before I did, I discovered the secret for academic success. All I had to do was marry a girl who planned to be a teacher someday. I met Jan. She was one of those A+ girls who never had a learning problem in school—ever. She was like all those girls I had seen in school through the years. The pretty ones who sat up front and raised their hand every time the teacher asked a question. They were the ones the teacher always complimented for a paper well written—a paper I didn’t even know was assigned to us.

There was a big difference about this girl. She looked past my obvious learning difficulties and found someone she could love. Within a few months, we decided to get married. From that day forward, it was her goal to get me through college. Jan started taking all my classes. She took notes, something I knew nothing about. From her notes, she knew what was going to be on the test. Every night (while I walked around the room swinging my arms and legs), she taught me what I needed to know.

She wrote out the test and taught it to me. I was amazed every time the professor gave us the test Jan had written out the night before. She also knew when things were due. We did the research together, and I wrote out what I thought about it. She then took what I wrote and typed it out, correcting everything that needed to be fixed.

We went to school every morning, held down jobs in the afternoon, and studied every evening. She patiently worked with me until we both graduated from college. Having Jan in my life totally changed my ability to get a formal education.

A few months after college, I went to the Christian bookstore and bought a study book. When I got home, I opened it to the first page. I read the first paragraph five or six times until I understood what it said. I went on to the next paragraph and read it five or six times. When I got to the end of the page, I reread the page. I repeated this procedure on the next page and the next, reading every paragraph four, five, or six times. Once I got to the end of the chapter, I read it again. I went through the entire book that way.

When I was done with that book, Jan was amazed I knew everything it had to say. Of course, I did! Anyone who reads a book six to ten times would have it almost memorized.

I finished that first study book and bought another one. I tackled it just as I had done the first one—paragraph by paragraph, page by page, chapter by chapter. My education had finally started! Before that time, teachers told me I wasn’t motivated, and I believed them. The truth was, I was motivated all along and wanted to learn. I just didn’t fit into the educational system that was around me.

I devoured book after book after book. Years later, I became a teacher. I didn’t tell anyone about my previous struggles with learning. Still, people were amazed how I could relate to students with learning problems. I knew exactly what they were going through and could help them. In time, I became a teacher of teachers. My specialty was individualized learning and helping teachers better understand students who struggled in school.

At one point, Jan and I went to a weeklong seminar focused on learning difficulties. While we were there, our instructor put us in a special room set up so everybody could experience what it is like to have learning problems. They did this with mirrors, smoke, and specially written material. Add to that a bossy, non-sympathetic teacher. Most of the attendees didn’t know what it was like to have learning problems. They had never experienced what their students were going through.

Suddenly, everyone in our group had major problems, thanks to how the room was set up. As we went through that experience, some in the group came close to tears, and others did