I can remember the first time
I realized something was wrong.
I can remember the first time
I was told I have dyslexia.
I can remember being
in first or second grade
when my teacher pulled me
off the hallway into a small classroom.
She sat me down and she put
five magnetic letters on the board.
And she said: "Piper read this to me.
What do these five letters say?"
And I looked at it,
and I kept staring at it, and I said:
"I'm not really sure what that says."
She said "Okay, that's okay,
but that's your name."
I remember this feeling
like it happened this morning.
I can assure you my face went beet red.
I was beyond embarrassed
that at that very moment
I couldn't even read my own name.
I can remember in the following year
when my Mom picked me up
from the house
where I went for tutoring.
The tutor came outside and said,
"Mary Beth, I need you
to work with Piper on sequencing.
She's still not understanding
what makes up a dollar.
Here's four quarters just sit her down
and keep singing the dollar song."
So as soon as we got home
we sat at the table
and we said it together
four or five times.
Twenty-five, fifty,
seventy-five, a dollar.
And then it was my turn
to repeat it back.
Twenty-five, fifty --?
Piper, twenty-five, fifty,
seventy-five, a dollar. Try again.
Twenty-five, fifty --
Piper it's just four things.
Twenty-five, fifty,
seventy-five, a dollar.
I can remember how
having dyslexia affected me
from Elementary School to Middle School.
I can remember being under the impression
that I had to master certain
aspects of school and overcome this.
I thought it was the only way.
From first grade to eight grade
I was taken out of normal regular classes
to be taught in a different way.
In fourth grade I was told I wouldn't
be able to take a foreign language.
In sixth grade
I was told it was essential
to master my multiplication facts
in order to continue.
I did everything I could to try
to graduate out of these programs
they were putting me in.
I knew I couldn't learn
like the rest of you,
but all I wanted to do was be in
the normal conventional classes with you.
But as I sat there in my pink dress
and flowered headband,
I just didn't want to be different.
I can remember fighting
to get out of these classrooms.
My parents helped me
in every way they could
to get me educated outside
of the Cape Elizabeth School System.
I was repeatedly IQ tested because
my results didn't make sense.
It would come back in Superior Excellence
in numerous categories.
It really just came down
to the fact that my brain worked
in completely different ways than others.
Come eighth grade, I saw one
final doctor for one final IQ test.
And his only conclusion,
give the girl a calculator and a dictionary.
After about a dozen meetings
with my parents, teachers,
instructional support advisors
and even the administration
I finally heard
exactly what I wanted to hear,
As long as you maintain
your grades and advocate for yourself
you can graduate
from the Instructional Support Program.
Even when I graduated
it's not like this all just went away.
Every single day I'm reminded
that I still have dyslexia.
For example, this summer I worked
on the food truck, Mainely Burgers.
Being the cashier and taking
people's burger orders.
I spelled onions "U-N-I-O-N-S".
And it wasn't until about
three weeks later
that the boys finally started to say
"Piper, did he want
unions on that burger?"
(Laughter)
Or, "Piper, did Mary order a large
union ring or a small union ring?"
(Laughter)
Sometimes I call my best friend Chelsea,
ask her how to spell
one word and hang up.
Spell Check never knows
what I'm trying to say.
And my SAT scores.
Those were fun.
When the May SATs rolled around,
I took them once with no prep
and my scores came
back and I got a 1350.
I immediately called my Mom,
my Dad, my brother
and cried to them about my 1350.
Not one school I was looking into
accepted scores remotely around a 1350.
So for the second SATs
I did two hours of prep
three times a week
with a one-on-one tutor for a month.
And my scores came
back and I got a 1350.
Thirteen fifty was my destiny.
And most recently I was writing a letter
to thank a college professor
for meeting with me.
Just about four or five sentences.
I wrote them once
on a sticky note, revised it.
Wrote it again on
a sticky note, revised it.
Then I circled words,
which looked like they were misspelled,
and Google searched them.
Then I wrote the letter in pencil
on the card, wrote over it in pen.
That was the process it took
for just four to five sentences.
I used to put so much time and energy
in trying to overcome my dyslexia.
But when I arrived at High School
enough was enough.
I realized it wasn't going to be important
for me to master thing like
my multiplication facts,
my ability in a foreign language
and figuring out why I couldn't
comprehend these books I was reading.
What was important
is that I found what I loved to do
and strengthened what I enjoyed.
I found so much enjoyment in working.
I worked at my Mom's furniture store,
I babysat,
and I even volunteered
on the Cape Elizabeth ambulance.
I found enjoyment in organizing events.
Helping to create
one of the most memorable proms
and even helped plan the event
that you are sitting in right now.
And most recently, I found that my
creative brain is the one that suits me best.
This past summer I completed 250 hours
of artwork at the Maine College of Art.
And when I arrived for my senior year,
I dropped math, science
and a foreign language.
I found my passion
and at this very moment I'm pursuing it.
Next Fall I will be attending
Savannah College of Art & Design
majoring in Accessory Design
and minoring in Business.
My challenge for each of you today
is to find what you love,
find what you enjoy and pursue it.
Work hard, eat well,
and fall in love with everything.
Thank you.
(Applause) (Cheering)