Dyslexic Doesn’t Mean Dumb, a guest post by Tom Phillips

My favorite piece of literature is a sonnet by William Shakespeare, which I have never read. I was in the 4th grade when I was forced to read a book called Hatchet. We were supposed to read it and give a book report on it, but it didn’t make any sense when I tried. It was a challenging book to read with words and letters I didn’t understand. So instead of reading it, I waited until other kids in my class gave their reports, and then I just copied what they said in mine. I got an “A”. I had completely scammed the system. I had found a mighty loophole in the education system and thus had become the greatest criminal mastermind ever to have attended Grand Lake Elementary.

My criminal legacy lasted almost 24 hours, for the next day, I was thwarted by the ultimate equalizer, a pop quiz. I, the world’s smartest crime lord, was taken down by five questions. You see, the teacher had designed five simple questions after listening to all of our presentations. I, who had never read the book, failed miserably. I am afraid to say it would become a long-held tradition that lasted well into my college years.