— From Careers & the disABLED, Spring 2002

Persistence Pays

by Bill Asenjo, PhD, CRC

Dave Dawson's future looked bleak in 1974. Based on IQ tests, his ninth-grade teachers labeled him educationally mentally retarded. "My vocational expectation was to be a grocery store bagger," Dawson said. In fact, he even took classes to learn the proper way to bag groceries. "I was never supposed to go to college." Years passed before Dawson was accurately assessed as having severe learning disabilities.

But after a life of struggle and frustration, today Dawson is the proud owner of a recently completed PhD from the University of Iowa's College of Education. He also runs the newly created Iowa Center for Assistive Technology and Educational Resources, which he helped found. His hope is that the center will help people with disabilities reach their full potential through the use of technology, such as books on tape or voice-activated software — tools that helped him.

Succeeding at Failing

The road from would-be grocery bagger to doctorate and director of his own center was not easy. During his boyhood struggles in St. Petersburg, Florida, Dawson's parents and teachers thought his difficulties in school were caused by poor vision. But new glasses didn't help.

Dawson's ongoing frustration with school erupted in behavior problems. "I would fail no matter what I did, no matter how hard I studied." Unable to succeed academically like his classmates, Dawson turned the tables. "I would stand up and cheer when I got the lowest grade in the class," he said.

A psychiatrist finally diagnosed a learning disability. But diagnosing a problem and solving it aren't the same. Dawson still couldn't read by the time he finished junior high at a private school. Pouring salt on the wound, school officials posted failing students' names and test scores on a bulletin board for all to see. Dawson appeared regularly.

Despite his obvious difficulties, teachers kept promoting him. So he asked his parents to let him transfer to a public high school where he thought teachers might be able to help him.

Not the 'dumbest'

Eventually, Dawson found himself in the most remedial ninth grade class in the school. "For the first time I was with a peer group. And for the first time I was not the -- the only way I can phrase this, and I hate this word — the dumbest."

His parents paid his teachers to work with him once classes ended for the day. After working with them he would spend time with another tutor. Summers at an academy for kids with learning disabilities helped him learn to read — a little.

In addition to tutoring, Dawson volunteered to use any tool or technique that might help. "I was in every experiment you could be in," he said.

By 10th grade, he was finally able to take a few mainstream classes. By 11th, he was in all regular classes. "I remember getting my first B — a real B," Dawson said. By that time he decided to go to college.

College

College presented even more challenges. Dawson attended several — St. Petersburg Junior College, Florida State University and the University of South Florida. Frustrated, he dropped out of each one. "But I still wanted to go to college," he said.

When Appalachian State University rejected him, his father made him drive to the school and demand to be admitted. Dawson recalled parking himself in the dean's office until they agreed. Eventually the school relented. But he believes they finally admitted him expecting that he would fail.

While attending Appalachian State Dawson met Arlene Lundquist, who was setting up the college's office of disability services. Lundquist helped him by insisting he swallow his pride and tell his professors about his disability. But at the same time she wouldn't let him use it as a crutch. Lundquist, whose program became a model for other schools, also introduced him to books on tape.

Four years later, after dropping out of Appalachian State once, Dawson received his bachelor's degree in psychology, specializing in rehabilitation. He then worked as a substance abuse counselor in a hospital, returning to Appalachian State for a master's degree.

In 1992 he entered the Rehabilitation Counselor Education PhD Program at the University of Iowa. But even then he suffered from low self-esteem because of his disability. Dawson believed he wasn't as smart as the others in his program and that the college had made a mistake by accepting him. But with the help of assistive technologies, including scanners that read words out loud, he made it through. It was during his doctoral studies, Dawson said, that he "really got into assistive technology."

Dawson convinced the university to give him and two other students with disabilities $5,000 to buy equipment — not only for use by students with disabilities, but to instruct future teachers about assistive technologies.

After his persistent and vocal advocacy, in 2001 the University of Iowa gave Dawson a one-year $20,000 grant to purchase more technology and get the Iowa Center for Assistive Technology and Educational Resources up and running.

Persistence Pays

The center, like the funding preceding it, is due in large part to Dawson's determined advocacy. Like all of the goals he has set and achieved in life, Dawson knows it will take a lot of hard work to make the center a success.

Yet for someone who has achieved an educational level few people do, Dawson acknowledges that occasionally his 3-year-old son has to correct him when they're reading a bedtime story together. "I still have significant problems," Dawson said.

But if his struggles have proven nothing else, it is that persistence pays. "If I can do this, you really, really can too," he said. "If you want your dream bad enough, stick to it, it can happen."

© 2009 Bill Asenjo

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