New Davis providers establish
centers in England, Mexico,
Switzerland & in California
and Florida

Published quarterly by Davis Dyslexia Association International (DDAI). Our goal is to increase worldwide awareness
about positive aspects of dyslexia and related learning styles; and to present methods for improving literacy. We believe all
people have abilities and talents that should be cherished and valued, and that learning problems can be remedied.

Letters to the editor, address changes, and article submissions should be sent to 1601 Old Bayshore Hwy. #245,
Burlingame, CA 94010 or via e-mail to editor@dyslexia.com.
For reprints or permission to republish an article, call (415) 692-8995 or fax (415) 692-7075.

Most of our mail comes to us via the internet, but we welcome faxes and written letters, too. The mail is full of wonderful ideas and observations; we wish we could print all of it!

I read up on the Davis facilities and books and
I feel that it is a very good ideal to help people
who are truly in need of learning to read. Many
people with the learning disability Dyslexia do not
know that they have it and feel discouraged about
school and the work area. Thanks to you and your
wonderful staff you can help them learn without
feeling discouraged. I find the work that you are
doing extraordinary.

Your web site is terrific! Well organized and
helpful. My 10-year-old dyslexic son has been
receiving multisensory phonetic decoding training
for two years by a tutor and has made reasonable
albeit slow progress. However, the technique
described in The Gift of Dyslexia could be far
more helpful to him. We did the Perceptual
Ability Assessment described in the book. Wow!
He not only could imagine the “pizza” (not a
cake), but also began to describe in vivid detail
all the wonderful things his mind could do with
the pizza. He became so excited, and delighted
in sharing with us his imagination. It was a
wonderful, positive experience for him.

I have read the book The Gift of Dyslexia and just can´t express my feelings. I have never been so overwhelmed and grateful.

I am a 20-year-old college student at Lehigh
University. The Gift of Dyslexia really made a lot of
connections to my life and my struggle. I am a
good student but work really hard. I have the skill
to memorize fifty vocabulary words in half an hour
and not even be able to spell them – I just picture
myself writing the list and then find the words on
the list I wrote in my head. I know that I am in
better shape than most, but my academic potential
is not even half reached.

I was very moved by the personal testimonies
dyslexic people have placed on your bulletin
board. I found I could relate to many of the
experiences. This has sparked me into action into
finding out whether or not I am dyslexic, and if
so, what I can do about it.

I am Dyslexic and I am in college now. I have
been for 6 years, and I am still an undergraduate
student, but I am able to cope with my GIFT!!! I
would not trade my gift for anything in the world!
Dyslexia made me, in part, who I am today.

Thanks a lot – your web site has a wonderful
range of information and gives a new perspective
of life. I found your home page when I started
doing research on Dyslexia for a project and it is
my best resource.

coined the worda u t i s m in the US. For
the first nine years of my life, I was oblivious to
everything. I wasn’t even aware that I
was alive.

During part of my first eleven years, I
had to go to school. I spent most of my
time in the back of the
classroom sitting in a corner,
facing the wall.

At the age of twelve I still
hadn’t learned a thing in school—
not even the alphabet. My mother
worked on me every day trying
to teach me the Alphabet Song.
She even tried to teach it to me
in German. I couldn’t learn the
song past the first few letters.

My brothers were normal, so they were allowed
to have things and do things that were forbidden
to me. They had pocket knives and wrist watches.

One night I got hold of my older brother’s
pocket knife and nearly cut off one of my fingers.
But I still wanted a pocket knife.

Somewhere in the void of autism, I discovered
that by mixing dirt in the back yard and water
together in a puddle, I could make a thick goo.
This substance could be formed into anything I
wanted. The dirt in our back yard was a gummy
red clay. If you let it dry completely, it would hold
its shape for a long time.

I have no idea how many pocket knives I made
from red dirt and water. In my pocket, within
about a week, each one would crumble back into
pieces of plain red dirt. But I had a pocket knife.

My brothers’ wrist watches were made from metal and leather. Mine was made from red dirt and string. But at least I had one.

Along one wall, just below the ceiling, a banner
displayed the letters of the alphabet. I don’t know
why I began copying the letters in red dirt and
water. It took awhile, but eventually I got each
one of them made. Then I managed to put them

whats?” My brother would say“ Z .” I would point
at another letter and ask “Whats, whats,
whats?” My brother would say “N.” I would
play for hours twisting theZ and putting it
over theN and say “N.” Then I would twist
it back and say “Z.” “NZ NZNZ.” I
played for hours on end with the clay letters
and their names. That is how I finally

to say the alphabet, I would just
rattle off the names of the letters at
random. Nobody noticed that I said

them in order, so I learned the
order, beginning with the Z. It was more than
twenty years before I learned to say the alphabet
in the forward direction.

When I was age twelve, my mother was told I had the intelligence of a chimpanzee. When I was seventeen, my intelligence was tested. I scored 137 points on the IQ test.

They said, “Oh my God! He has an IQ! Let’s
teach him how to talk, and let’s teach him how to
read.” The speech therapy worked, I learned to
speak. The reading training didn’t work.

When I was 18, I was told that I would never
learn how to read, write and spell like a normal
human being. They said that when I was being
born, the doctor had used instruments that
pinched my head and ruined my brain.

When I learned to speak, words became part of my universe, so when I made a model of an idea, I also began to make the name of the idea.

Between the ages of 17 and 27, I created more than
a thousand ideas and words in modeling clay. By
the time I was 27, my IQ score had risen to 169.

When I began to develop procedures for
working with dyslexics, working with clay
seemed natural. Most dyslexics really enjoyed it
and learned by using it, just like I had.

I believe the potential for genius in some form exists in all of us, if only we have a foundation on which to build our thinking, and a goal we desire to achieve.