By Meredith Ogden, FASS Ambassador 2022-2023
I have a complicated relationship with learning.
On the one hand, I think of myself as a natural lifelong learner. On the other hand, learning has been one of my biggest challenges. My training in dialectical thinking would say: both are true.
I remember in high school working hours a night on homework trying to understand and grasp course content. As an overachieving and self-critical perfectionist, I would often get in my own head, frustrated and ashamed of myself. “Why is this so hard for me?” I would cry to my parents, trying to help me at the kitchen table, as no amount of Khan Academy videos helped me understand the basics of fractions.
Though somewhat humorous now, at the time I felt foolish, hopeless and ashamed. My teachers, parents and I were unclear on what was happening. Many psycho-educational assessments later, I was diagnosed with dyscalculia, a math learning disability, in 2018.
While initially relieved by the clarity of this diagnosis, especially considering the time spent without a formal diagnosis, I felt blamed and embarrassed for my disability. This was more than just a math problem I didn't understand; this was the way I encoded and processed the world around me. And I was the one who had to adjust.
As a Psychology major with a minor in Women’s and Gender Studies, I can tell you that this is the social model of disability at play. That is, how the social world impairs and creates barriers and de facto disability. Despite being a firm believer in science, I also know that the medical system enables this social model by reinforcing the idea that disability is a result of a faulty body, instead of a society that sets up disability.
The social model of disability would argue that ableism is a social pathology. As journalist and disabilities activist Stella Young says in her TedTalk: “We are more disabled by our society than our bodies and diagnosis”. I echo this statement, and while I developed a strong sense of grit from navigating the education system as a person with a learning disability, I am not here to necessarily inspire you, but to instead share my story.
While most people understand dyscalculia as the “dyslexia of math”, learning disabilities are not influenced by intelligence and often affect more than just academics. For instance, my particular disability can have psychological effects (low self-esteem), financial effects (difficulties with budgeting and managing money), social effects (feeling isolated or different from peers) and neurobiological effects (overstimulation). As such, it's important to note that while we all have our human struggles, persons with disabilities face an additional intersecting barrier that is ingrained on a cultural, social and societal level.
My sense of identity is also affected by being categorized as disabled by society. To heal my relationship with this complicated societal label, I have worked on self-recognition, self-validation and self-compassion towards the often unseen difficulties I face every day. As a high academic performer, this has been one of the most painful parts for me considering the invisible nature of my disability. There is often a lack of understanding pertaining to the effort I put into my studies, coupled with a lack of recognition of the effort it takes to abide to the neurotypical education system as a neurodivergent person.
Furthermore, healing has meant unlearning the “Oppression Olympics'' which sometimes, either intentionally or unintentionally, shows up in disability discourse. Being mindful of the “Oppression Olympics” means being mindful that one's struggles are not more or less significant because of your social status or privilege/oppression. I have learned that my disability is not more or less challenging than someone with a physical disability, because to rank order disability is to further privilege and oppress people impacted by the same systems of domination — which is a useless and unproductive strategy. Instead, let's welcome and hold space for persons of all disabilities and experiences.
Through trial and error, tutoring programs and my own metacognitive strategies, I can say with certainty that learning is an individual process. Along the journey to gain awareness around my learning needs, I met many nourishing support systems.
Carleton University’s Paul Menton Center (PMC) has been a catalyst for me navigating post-secondary studies as a student with a disability. The PMC aims to increase accessibility and integration of students with disabilities into all aspects of university life. From my volunteer work as a PMC Ambassador to my personal educational support, I have truly felt supported, understood and accommodated.
In addition to the PMC, there are many other resources I have taken advantage of, including Carleton’s Peer-Assisted Study Sessions (PASS), utilizing professor’s office hours and making sure my learning supports are balanced with mental health and well-being tools such as psychotherapy, spending time in nature and practising mindfulness.
My journey would also not be fully acknowledged without the support of my family, close friends, high school teachers and university professors. These individuals have been instrumental in encouraging me to continue my learning and academic adventure.
While school has been doubly challenging for me, I hope to continue to pursue a Master’s degree in counselling psychology and focus on one of my core values and most prized skill: connecting with people.
Meredith Ogden is a fourth-year student majoring in Psychology with a minor in Women’s and Gender Studies, and a 2022-2023 FASS Student Ambassador.
Learn more about Meredith and the FASS Student Ambassador program.