By Marcia Brissett-Bailey
My disclaimer is that I cannot speak for every Black dyslexic woman, as I am just one individual with my own unique intersection of experiences—shaped by environment, culture, class, race, education, and gender. Being both Black and dyslexic has meant battling systemic, institutional racism designed in the fabric of our society and the lack of understanding around dyslexia. Navigating these challenges and changing the narrative has required constant resilience, and self-advocacy.
The Struggles in Education
School was where I first faced systemic barriers. Meant to be a safe learning environment, I often felt stupid, anxious, and unable to express my thoughts.
Daydreaming became my escape, even though I knew I had a creative mind, visualising pictures before words. As a young Black girl, I felt invisible—misunderstood, labeled a "slow learner," and burdened by societal expectations, especially after my teacher told my parents I would never achieve academically. I often wonder how that impacted my academic journey three degrees later. My challenges were compounded by being marginalised for both my race and learning differences in a system that wasn’t designed for me.
It wasn’t until college, while retaking my GCSEs, that my government and politics teacher recognised my potential. He noticed that although I excelled in class, my grades didn’t reflect that on paper. This led him to referring me for a dyslexia diagnosis. With the right support, I passed my retakes and finally had a name for how I learned, no longer feeling "stupid." College was a turning point—I no longer had to choose between being Black, dyslexic, and a woman; it was all part of who I am. The self-doubt and the imposter syndrome, was not me, but the system that could’ve broken me, if not for my family’s love.
These challenges didn’t end at school; they followed me into university and the workplace. While I won’t delve into the school-to-prison pipeline, the link between dyslexia, neurodiversity, and this painful reality is clear for many of us who are neurodivergent. As an educator, I see how systems often overlook young people’s potential, failing to recognise that behaviour is often a form of communication, which can lead to premature exclusion, when it may just need a different learning approaches or environments to thrive.
Beyond School: Dyslexia in Higher Education and the Workplace
The challenges I faced with dyslexia didn’t disappear in higher education, where systems still weren’t designed with people like me in mind. Tasks like organising research, meeting deadlines, and juggling assignments were overwhelming, especially with so many processes to manage. Accessing the Disabled Student Allowance (DSA) was essential for me, providing 1:1 support, assistive technology, photocopy credits, and extra time in exams, which helped me navigate the academic system.
Transitioning into the workplace added another layer of difficulty, leading me to mask my struggles and feel the need to work twice as hard. Not only as someone was dyslexic, but as a Black woman, the complexities of race, and neurodiversity compounded the challenges I faced. I eventually applied for Access to Work, which provided me with the necessary adjustments, like assistive teachology software, that helped remove some of the barriers in my work, but feel there needs to sift within work culture, especially in environments where implicit and explicit bias hinder true inclusion and diversity.
Changing the Narrative
Dyslexia doesn’t discriminate by class, gender, or race, so why does it often feel that way? To change the narrative, representation matters—I want to see more Black, neurodiverse role models and opportunities for diverse voices on public platforms. Dyslexia is simply a different way of thinking, and I feel so lucky that my teacher recognised my potential. Traditional education and workplaces still cater to narrow learning styles, but the future should embrace neurodiversity, ensuring that everyone feels safe and supported.
Awareness is key: dyslexia isn’t about intelligence, but processing information differently. My strength lies in big-picture thinking and creativity—skills that are highly valuable today and good for business.
We must also address the intersection of race, disability, neurodiversity, and gender. Schools and workplaces need to celebrate the true richness of diversity to create truly inclusive spaces where everyone can thrive.
Embracing Strengths
Throughout my journey, I am learning to embrace my dyslexia and lean on my strengths, though I still navigate its challenges daily. Some days are better than others. It wasn’t easy—I had to unlearn negative messages about my abilities and redefine success for myself. Dyslexia is daily FOR ME, so I’m still learning about myself and dyslexia, so it on-going.
My book, Black, Brilliant, and Dyslexic, was born from my desire to share this message. It celebrates neurodiversity and the resilience of Black dyslexic individuals who have overcome systemic barriers. By sharing stories of achievements and adversity, I hope to inspire others to recognise their own brilliance, no matter how they process information or are perceived by society.
A Call to Action
As we move forward, schools, universities, training providers and workplaces must go beyond token adjustments. Systemic changes are needed to celebrate neurodiversity and ensure that every individual learners can thrive. This means rethinking how we define learning and intelligence and promoting inclusive hiring practices.
Changing the narrative isn’t easy, but it's vital for unlocking human potential. By breaking down barriers and challenging outdated norms, we can create a world where differences are celebrated, allowing everyone to succeed moving toward true inclusion.
Comments