I have a confession to make. It’s been pretty well hidden the last ten years of my life, with only a few people sworn to protect it.

I have an IEP.

For those who do not know, IEP stands for Individualized Education Program. Typically students who have these fall under two categories, gifted students (who have G IEP) and students with learning disabilities. I subscribe to the second group.

My particular learning disability is called dysgraphia. Essentially, my brain and my motor control go at two different speeds.

If you have had to read my handwriting, you would see that it's horrible. That's because of my dysgraphia. I cannot throw or hit a ball, and sometimes have trouble doing work with my hands. That’s about the extent of my disability.

Because I have a learning disability, my school is required to offer me certain aid. As with most cases, I am allowed to take a test in a different room, and have extended time for exams. I do have a staff member who checks in with me, and in theory offers me help. Unique to my situation, I can always type something that is supposed to be handwritten. I can do the work, but my writing is often unreadable.

That little thing is what I have used out of my IEP the last four years of high school. I have taken maybe 3 tests in high school in the learning support room. I do not seek out my special education teacher for help, I, like my peers, use my academic teachers for help.

I have advocated for myself over my four years of high school. I could have coasted through school with help that I didn’t really need. I could have chosen to take classes that would have been easy for me, since there wasn't anybody pushing for me to be in AP classes. Except for me.

My situation is unique. Not many of my “peers” were able to self-advocate. Both they and their parents found themselves under the will of the school. My grandmother was a legal advocate for families of students with learning disabilities and fully understood the situation.

I was lucky that my IEP was tailored to me and helped me, not the school.

This leads to who I am now. As per tradition, the Senior Class holds an award ceremony, where students are presented with scholarships and other academic awards. Upon receiving my invitation, I had assumed I had won one of the awards I had applied for. I had maintained a high GPA, was involved in more clubs then I could count, and had stellar recommendations. I was a competitive member of my class.

All though that ceremony I sat still, waiting for my name to be called for one of the scholarships….

One…

Two…

Three…

Finally, it dawned on me. I was not getting a scholarship. Why was I here? And then I watched the two IEP teachers walk onto the stage.

My stomach dropped, I instantly knew what was happening. They described the students receiving this next award as “overcoming great academic challenges” and as “hardworking”. They called us up, and there I was. Openly being acknowledged as a student with a learning disability.

To my friends, I was an outspoken student. My teachers knew me as someone with lots of questions, and who would give it her all. But in that moment, all I felt was shame. This was something so deeply hidden. Few of my friends knew about this part of me.

And now I was standing here, feeling like I had a Scarlet Letter on my dress. I was ashamed of myself.

My first thought? Why didn’t I work harder? I could have won so many of those awards. How did I end up here?

Students with learning disabilities deserve to be protected. We do not deserve to be publicly announced.

This was my secret, and I wasn't going to let anyone else share it for me. So here I am, sharing my story.

I am not my dysgraphia. I am the girl who loves politics, who is a smart-alec, who kept up with AP classes. Dysgraphia is not who I am, but it is a part of me.