Throughout my studies, I was embarrassed by being exceptionally astute and, in the meantime, relying on others to do my homework. I have needed help for long periods of time to express my thoughts in a form that the educational framework – which works so well for some but is generally not for me – would recognize it. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay As a freshman, I discovered that there was a huge contrast between what I knew and how I worked in school. How could these scrambled letters mean anything? Why didn't the words look like the letters? Why couldn't my hand shape the letters precisely? Why did people laugh at my spelling? My parents revealed to me that I suffered from dyslexia. My elementary school teachers didn't know what to do with me. I was not labeled as a bad understudy since I understood and conducted the data at a more advanced level than I could read and compose. The big thing they did for me was place me in a program for very capable students. This marked me as “intelligent” as opposed to “moderate student.” Different kids pushed me because of my problems in class and my motor problems on the playground. I became a maverick, shy and reluctant to venture out, perplexed by the idea of ​​being hurt. The program's specialist instructors tried everything, except they couldn't find a framework to help me read better. I started to feel more like a guinea pig. They tried to teach me Braille and recommended I learn Morse code. Some of this stuff could have worked if I had the tolerance to maintain it. Things showed signs of improvement in fourth grade when I had an instructor who approached me deferentially and woke me up - giving me a major part of the drive to shine. I currently have it. She remembered that I could be brilliant and still struggle with things. She worked with me all year, helping me build my certainty. Eventually, my companions began to approach me with deference as well. My life changed in sixth grade. When I was younger, I lived in a world of imagination and creative energy – with activity figures and books. I met a group of companions like me – smart, creative and genius – and from them I learned a game called “Mortal Combat”. Unprecedented for quite a while, I had companions I could trust and relate to. with something that would be vital for my improvement. I became their battlemaster, and as such, I needed to go through enormous amounts of material to set up the experiments I was conducting. How could I navigate it? I read it. My mentors couldn't encourage me. It had nothing to do with school. The desire to take some individual control over my disability had to come from outside of school. In my situation, the school helped me adapt to my problems. but that didn't make me beat them. I had to trust that I could defeat my own mythical beasts, the same way I had to kill my opponent in the game. This was finally my own test. I decided to use technology to help me. I myself acquired a scanner suitable for optical character recognition. This allowed me to scan a book into my computer in text format and then have it read by a text-to-speech program. Considering.