Millions of otherwise bright children struggle with words, but recent brain research shows there's hope—if parents and teachers know what to look for

By Barbara Kantrowitz and Anne Underwood
Newsweek, November 22, 1999

The first thing Kathryn Nicholas will tell you about her 11-year-old son Jason is that he's a bright, curious kid who can build elaborate machines out of Legos and remember the code names and payloads of bombers. "He has a phenomenal desire to see how things work," she says proudly.

They did science experiments, studied biodiversity, met with a geneticist and radiologist from the university— and learned to read words relating to the science they were studying. Berninger explained that their brains weren't defective, just different. She told them that Einstein had trouble in school, too, until he found one that emphasized individual thinking and discouraged rote memorization. At the end of the program, Jason went up to her and asked earnestly, "Can you help me get into a school like Einstein's?"

He still stumbles over new words in a text. But he's an honors student in his sixth-grade class and continues to amaze his mom every day with his creativity. "I look at kids like Jason and think God gave them other things to compensate," says his mother. "They think differently, and come up with creative ideas we've never thought of. They have a gift, even though the world sees it as a disability." Indeed, famous and successful dyslexics include Tom Cruise, artist Robert Rauschenberg and Olympian Dan O'Brien.

But in the last several years, says Yale researcher Sally Shaywitz, "there's been a revolution in what we've learned about reading and dyslexia." Scientists like Shaywitz and Berninger are using a variety of new imaging techniques to watch the brain at work. Their experiments have shown that reading disorders are most likely the result of what is, in effect, faulty wiring in the brain—not laziness, stupidity or a poor home environment. There's also convincing evidence that dyslexia is largely inherited; scientists have identified four chromosomes that may be involved. Dyslexia is now considered a chronic problem for some kids, not just a "phase." Scientists have also discarded another old stereotype, that almost all dyslexics are boys. Studies indicate that many girls are affected as well—and not getting help

No one can get by without knowing how to read well and understand increasingly complex material. These skills don't come easily to about 20 percent of kids. Not all of these youngsters are dyslexic. Researchers now think that dyslexia represents the low end of a continuum of reading ability. The teaching strategies that help dyslexics, those most severely disabled, are also helping kids who require only a little extra attention.

These are the smallest discernible segments of speech; there are more than 40 of them in the English language. To understand how this process works, Shaywitz uses the example of the word "cat," which is made up of three phonemes: "kuh," "aah" and "tuh." Most people understand this, but dyslexics can hear only "cat"—one sound. As a result, they can't sound out words, the first step in reading. Most people race through this sounding-out phase and the process becomes an automatic, essentially unconscious, part of reading. Dyslexics get stuck at the starting gate because they can't make the connection between the symbol and the sound.

Researchers are getting a clearer picture of why this is happening by using new imaging techniques.

Because of this research, scientists now have a much better understanding of how we process written language. What they're realizing is that learning to read is not a natural process like learning to speak. "Speech is a biologically hard-wired ability," says Reid Lyon, chief of the child development and behavior branch of the National Institute for Child Health and Human Development (NICHD). "Almost all humans acquire it in the same way. They coo, then they babble, use single words, then put two words together." Scientists estimate that the ability to use speech is at least 100,000 years old while written language is only about 5,000 years old. Because written language is so new, learning it is not in our genes; we have to be taught.

In selecting a program for their kids, Shaywitz advises parents and teachers to look for programs that emphasize breaking words down into sounds—what researchers call "phoneme awareness." "Dyslexic kids need very intense and specific help" in this area, she says. The second key ingredient is learning the letters that go with those sounds—or phonics, which Lyon calls "nonnegotiable... You have to learn it." The final essential is constant practice, using interesting stories to develop fluency, vocabulary and comprehension. While these are elements of any good reading program, the difference is in the increased intensity and explicitness for dyslexics.

Researchers are using this information, gleaned from the new brain research, to revolutionize the way reading is taught to all students. The main obstacle is that many classroom teachers are woefully undertrained in the newest techniques. "Teaching reading is rocket science," says Louisa Moats, NICHD researcher. "Our profession has underestimated how much and what kind of training teachers need." For the last two years, Moats has been working with some Washington, D.C., public schools with a large number of students who may be at risk because they come from low-income homes, and haven't had much exposure to books. Their curriculum includes lots of rhyming, songs and games, as well as hands-on activities. By the end of the first year, administrators were amazed to find that almost all of their kindergartners were starting to read.