An Introduction

Welcome!. I’m Dr. Rhonda Richmond, and I am so glad you are here. I was diagnosed with autism later in life (40 years old), along with sensory processing disorder, executive function disorder, dyslexia, and a handful of other learning challenges. I am also the mother of 5 children, 3 of which have one or more disabilities. If you’re a parent, educator, or just someone trying to understand how to support neurodiverse learners better, this space is for you.  But I believe that with God’s guidance, we can continue to learn, grow, and foster environments where everyone feels supported.

As a former special education teacher, I faced struggles similar to those of my students, and I’ve learned a lot of important lessons. Let’s face it: we still don’t fully understand what it takes to help everyone in the neurodiverse community thrive. 

Looking back, I realized early on that something was off during my school years. I struggled immensely with communication, unable to fully express what I was going through. The frustration was palpable, but the words to explain it were just out of reach. It wasn’t until I was deep into my doctoral program that I finally found a way to articulate my experience. My Chair asked me to describe what it felt like to live with a disability. After a moment of reflection, I asked her, “Have you ever eaten Alphabet Soup?”

Most guests arrive fully prepared, easily scooping up letters to form words and effortlessly joining in the chatter. It’s a harmonious scene where language flows freely, ideas are exchanged, and everyone seems to be on the same page.

But now, let’s switch things up. Picture yourself—or a student with a learning disability—attending this party.

Forgetting the Bowl: Imagine showing up without a bowl. You have nothing to hold the soup, so the letters and words slip through your fingers. You’re left watching others enjoy the feast, but you’re unable to join in.

Bringing a Plate Instead of a Bowl: Maybe you brought a plate instead of a bowl. It holds some of the soup, but it’s not designed for the task. The letters scatter, and no matter how hard you try, forming words is a struggle. The experience feels disjointed and incomplete.

Forgetting the Spoon: Or perhaps you remembered the bowl but forgot the spoon. You can see the soup and even have a way to contain it, but you lack the tools needed to truly engage. Without the spoon, the letters remain just out of reach, making it nearly impossible to fully participate.

Showing Up with the Wrong Utensil: What if you arrive with a fork, a knife, or even a ladle instead of a spoon? These tools are close but not quite right. They leave you struggling to grasp the letters, leading to frustration as you attempt to piece together words in a way that feels awkward and ineffective.

Spilling the Soup: Now, imagine that, in the middle of the party, you accidentally pour the soup over your head. You have the tools, but coordination or understanding falters, and the result is a messy, confusing experience.

A Bowl with a Hole: Or maybe your bowl has a hole in the bottom. You can gather some of the soup, but as you lift it to your mouth, it leaks away. The tools are there, but gaps in comprehension or retention prevent you from fully understanding and engaging in the conversation.

Using Your Hands: Finally, consider trying to use your hands to scoop up the soup. It’s a last-ditch effort to engage, but it’s messy, inefficient, and often leads to more confusion than clarity. Miscommunication abounds as you try to piece together the language in a way that just doesn’t work.

Even if you manage to bring all the right tools, there’s still the possibility that you don’t like the soup or are allergic to it. For some students, the classroom environment itself is a challenge, making it difficult to navigate and engage, regardless of the tools they bring.

In this analogy, the soup is the content presented in a classroom, and the bowl and spoon represent the skills and tools students bring to learning. For those with learning disabilities, like me or many of my students, navigating the Alphabet Soup Party is not as simple as it seems. The challenges we face are unique, varied, and often misunderstood. But with the right understanding and support, we can find ways to enjoy the party too.

Just as a gracious host would adapt to the needs of their guests, faith-based communities and educators must create environments that embrace diversity and allow every student to flourish. By offering the right tools and fostering understanding, we can create such spaces for every person—regardless of their challenges.

I’m here to share my story and the lessons I’ve learned from my journey, my children, and my students. I feel called to speak up about what has worked for us, with the hope that it might help you or someone you care for. If this can reach even one more person, it’s all worth it.

May God bless you as you continue to learn, grow, and support others along the way.