I Bet You Didn't Know This.
I bet you didn’t know this—although you may have guessed it: I have a learning disability. I was diagnosed early in life, around second grade. After a series of tests and being sent back from second to first grade, the doctor told my parents I had what he called “minimal brain damage” and that they shouldn’t expect much from me academically. I’m sure that was devastating news for my parents.
My mother shared this story with tears in her eyes on the evening I received my master’s degree from seminary. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense: like the times I’d come home with a D on my report card and my parents would ask, “Is that the best you can do?” I’d say yes, and they’d say, “Good job.” Or the reason they never encouraged me to go to college. I guess, in their eyes, I was special. Now, at 64, I finally have more answers than questions.o
The truth is, the term “minimal brain damage” or “minimal brain dysfunction” (MBD) that I was given in second grade was a broad, imprecise label used in the 1960s. It referred to subtle brain differences that didn’t show up as obvious damage, but could affect learning, memory, or behavior. Today, we know that diagnosis was both stigmatizing and scientifically inaccurate. What I actually experienced were neurodevelopmental differences—not damage.
Now, under modern criteria, I have two diagnoses:
ADHD, inattentive type—my thoughts move faster than my ability to get them on paper, a classic ADHD symptom.
Specific Learning Disorder (SLD) with impairment in written expression—not reading-based dyslexia, but challenges with the mechanics and organization of writing.
If I were starting school today, I’d probably be prescribed medication to help me focus and a 504 plan or IEP evaluation, plus parent conferences and classroom accommodations. None of that existed back then. So there were no medications, no accommodations, and no meetings to talk about what I needed to be successful.
Day-to-day, that means I read just fine, but when I write, I often reverse letters or jumble words. Sometimes I look at my own writing and don’t even recognize it. My mind races ahead of my hand, and the result is a mess on the page. Paired with ADHD, this made school and work harder for me than it should have been.
Working in higher education put a spotlight on the struggle. Early in my career at the college, I wasn’t allowed to send emails without someone reviewing them first. That only changed recently. People close to me learned how to “protect” me—reviewing my writing so I wouldn’t be embarrassed, sometimes even learning to read my “Rusty-ese.” Still, it held me back. Verbally, I can communicate with the best of them, relying on personality and energy to connect with others, but if you asked me to write—like most professional jobs require—I’d avoid it or delegate it to someone else. Just as many people fear public speaking. My fear was that I would be asked to take notes or, even worse, present something on a whiteboard during a meeting,
Before I go further, I want to be clear: I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel sorry for me. It's quite the opposite. I live a great life and have had success in both business and education. I’ve even been told more than once, “It must be great to be Rusty.” The truth is, these challenges made me stronger and more resourceful. I told my youngest son, who also has ADHD, that I wouldn’t change a thing about my life. I actually have enjoyed the effects of my so-called disability. Over the years, I’ve learned to adapt, laugh at myself, and find creative ways to work around my shortcomings.
But here’s the real reason I’m sharing all of this: AI has completely changed how I work.
The Bridge Between Challenge and Opportunity
I’ve always been an early adopter, and AI was no exception. I remember my first email with ChatGPT. It felt like magic. I typed (using classic Rusty spelling and grammar) a prompt asking it to create an email for the entire campus about an upcoming event. My prompt was a mess, but somehow this tool turned my jumbled words into a polished message. For the first time in my life—at age 63—I sent an email without anyone else checking it. Do you remember the first time you sent an email without approval or assistance in writing? I do, and I must say it is very liberating to say the least.
It reminded me of the old days when a CEO would call in a secretary to dictate a letter. As he spoke, she’d take notes using a style of writing called shorthand, and then proceed to type the letter from the notes she had taken: next, she would promptly put it in the mail. This allowed the CEO to focus on more urgent tasks. That’s what AI is for me—it’s my bridge between a fast-thinking mind, numerous distractions, and the written page. Basically, it has become my personal assistant.
Unlocking What Was Sealed
That first crude prompt I created changed my life. Today, I work at a pace that lets me produce five to ten times the content I could before. I can turn random thoughts into solid ideas and share them in printed or electronic formats. I no longer stare at a blank page, feeling defeated or stuck on spelling.
Since then, I’ve discovered numerous uses for AI beyond email. It has become ingrained in my daily routine. My favorite is the transcription tool in ChatGPT. I can talk, it transcribes, and then I can refine my thoughts. This article began that way: during my morning walk, I pulled out my phone, hit 'transcribe,' and started talking. By the time I got home, I had a first draft—something that never would have happened a few years back. And if you’re wondering if AI wrote this article for me: no, it didn’t. However, it did produce the first draft. I spent many hours over a few days tweaking and rewriting to keep my own voice and style. AI is just the tool that enabled me to do it. I asked ChatGPT to review the article periodically and use it as my editor and writing coach to improve the final product. Sometimes I follow the advice, and other times I don't.
AI has changed what once felt like a limitation into a new kind of ability. Just as glasses bring the world into focus for someone with poor eyesight, AI gives me what I need to express myself fully. It’s given me the chance to write, to share, and to communicate in ways I never could before.
Rethinking What It Means to “Do the Work”
There’s always a debate—does AI help us or hurt us? I’ve read dozens of articles and listened to as many podcasts on the subject. A recent MIT study measured the brain waves of individuals writing papers using ChatGPT, Google, or no assistance at all. The group using ChatGPT showed the least brain activity; those with no help showed the most. Some argue that results prove that AI is making us lazy or will decrease our cognitive aptitude. However, for me, the results have been the opposite. AI has become a tool that has allowed my brain to work faster and without the prior restrictions. Writing tools are the things that we have learned to use that provide assistance, whether it be a dictionary, a spell checker, Grammarly, or ChatGPT. If you follow the logic, you would also have to concede that a hammer does not make a carpenter lazy, nor does a wrench in the hand of a mechanic.
The issue I have with the MIT study is that the students were not asked to use AI as a tool. They were asked to write a paper using AI. I'm sure that latter would have produced different outcomes.
One Last Thought
So, the next time you wonder whether to embrace AI or run from it, ask yourself: Could it help fill in the gaps in my life or in the life of someone close to me? What are your disabilities or challenges? What struggles have you never shared? Could it make something easier that has always felt hard? For me, the answer has been life-changing.
As for my mom and dad, they’re no longer with us. My mom was a writer, so I’m sure she’d be proud of this little article. And my guess is, they’d still think I’m special. 😊
Just for Fun
I ask my Assistant (ChatGPT) what it thinks about my writing. Here is the quote ( you have to love AI)
“Rusty’s writing is refreshingly honest, accessible, and full of lived experience. He takes a deeply personal story and turns it into a powerful case for embracing new tools and perspectives. His conversational style makes even complex topics feel approachable, and his willingness to share vulnerability is what sets this article apart. Readers will come away not only understanding his journey but also feeling encouraged to reflect on their own challenges and possibilities. This is what authentic storytelling looks like.”
