The social construction of a reading (dis)ability.

Kabuto, B. (2016). The social construction of a reading (dis)ability. Reading Research Quarterly, 51(3), 289-304.


The words we use to describe people do matter. They matter because they give names to the perceptions we have about people, and the names we give to our perceptions can quickly become labels.

The next step is using labels to place people in categories. That gets dangerous when those words, labels, and categories are used to describe learners and to prescribe what we think they need. Terms like “learning disabled”, “struggling reader”, and “reading below grade level” can work this way; when important adults in a child’s life—for example, teachers or parents--use these kinds of words to describe the child, the results can be devastating.

Kabuto’s case study tells the story of a young reader whose mother believed he was dyslexic, even though reading assessments done at school did not indicate that. Kabuto gathered her own data using family Retrospective Miscue Analysis (RMA) procedures with this child, and discovered that the child had many strengths as a reader, and used strategies that were typical of other first grade novice readers.

I will only provide a general summary of RMA procedures here; information on RMA may be obtained relatively easily by searching online. Briefly, in RMA a child reads a text aloud, and all deviations from the text (called miscues, NOT errors) are recorded by the assessor on a typescript of the text. The child then retells the text as a way of assessing comprehension. Sentences in the typescript are coded based on how much the miscues affect the reader’s meaning construction. The retrospective version of miscue analysis includes discussion of “high-quality” miscues (miscues that do not affect meaning construction and that in fact show the reader’s strategies and strengths in action) with the reader after the reading and retelling. In family RMA, family members (here, the mother) join in the discussion.

Because I am trained in Miscue Analysis procedures and have used them often in my own practice, this case study caught my eye. Like Kabuto, I have found the data that these procedures provide are especially useful when I suspect a reader’s abilities are being underestimated due to someone’s perception that he/she is a disabled reader. Most literacy educators who have used miscue analysis procedures with readers have made similar observations, and Kabuto’s work here will be especially resonant for those literacy educators, as it is for me. We have seen all too often cases like Peter’s, where a child’s “healthy, literate identity became lost in the evaluation process” (p. 302).

Yes, there are some learners who have reading difficulties and who require intervention and services. However, miscue analysis often shows me just how strong some readers who have been given “low reader” labels can actually be. I’ve seen kids labeled and classified based on assessments of “correct words per minute” who stunned me with how well and deeply they could retell a reading passage that others might say is “too difficult” for them. When I’ve talked with them about their “high quality” miscues (i.e., miscues that don’t disrupt the meaning) after reading, they often show remarkable awareness of their thought processes during reading.

Kabuto saw strengths in “Peter”, but his mother continued to perceive him as a disabled reader in need of “services”. In the family RMA sessions, she dominated the conversations and focused on what she saw as deficits in Peter’s reading, making many statements that Kabuto describes as “nonaffirmative” (p. 299), valuing word accuracy over understanding (“You know those words, buddy”) and certain behaviors she saw as characteristic of good readers (e.g., speaking loudly and clearly, sitting up straight).

I felt profound sadness as I read this account. At Peter’s tender age, he needs affirmation of what he CAN do, and he needs affirmative, encouraging support and scaffolding as he develops his reading strategies. Most of all, he needs to learn to love reading, to engage with texts, and to feel successful and capable as a reader. With an important adult in his life feeling compelled to view him through a deficit lens, that may not happen.

In the end, the struggle was more about Peter’s mom’s own childhood struggles with reading than it was about Peter. Her own negative feelings and memories of having difficulties with reading were being replayed and relived through Peter, as revealed in her conversations “filled with conflict, uncertainty, and a sense of urgency” (p. 299). Her husband also reportedly had experienced difficulties with reading (he did not participate in the study), which added to the sense of urgency.

Peter’s mom had “heard that dyslexia is genetic” (p. 300), and seemed determined to get that diagnosis for Peter. One has to wonder why that was so important. As a literacy educator, I have seen different kinds of parent reactions to a child’s perceived reading difficulties. Some parents will not accept the possibility of a learning disability because of worries about stigmas, labeling, and being removed from the “mainstream”. The big fear is that “there is something wrong with my child”. Others, like Terry, want the medical-sounding “diagnosis” of “dyslexia”. That makes reading difficulties seem like an illness for which specific “services” can be prescribed, just like giving an antibiotic for an infection. More importantly, if it’s like an illness, then it’s no one’s “fault” and there is no perception of failure. There’s nothing a parent could have done or not done if it’s an illness, and parents like Terry may need to feel that way about a child’s perceived difficulties with reading. Terry may also be asking for Peter something she felt should have somehow been given to her years ago. If Peter can be “cured”, then somehow her own memories of unaddressed struggles with reading can also be put to rest.

Peter’s mom saw reading as something that happened at school, not at home. That perception further shows her need to move the responsibility for Peter’s reading away from anything she might be able to do at home. If only he could get the right services, Peter’s perceived “disability” could be “cured”! Sadly, what might really help Peter at this stage of his development would be some engaging, supportive, shared family literacy experiences, but that doesn’t seem likely in this case. My hope is that somehow this family can be provided support to build family literacy. Those kinds of “services”, if this mother could be open to them, might benefit both generations.