Dyspraxia, also known as developmental coordination disorder, is relatively common. About one in 20 has it, but few are diagnosed. This disorder affects the nervous system and brain function, which is why, in the 80s, it was called the “Clumsy Child Syndrome.”
Someone who has dyspraxia has issues with motor skills, speech, executive functioning skills, and heightened emotions. Dyspraxia has multiple sub-categories, similar to other neurodivergent disorders. The three main types are motor, verbal, and oral dyspraxia. Motor dyspraxia is one of the challenges with fine and gross motor skills. Next, verbal dyspraxia is when one struggles with their speech and language. Finally, oral dyspraxia is when someone struggles to control their mouth, which is more common in kids. Every type has specific issues, but they all have the same symptoms I mentioned earlier.
As a kid, it really impacted me, but with age, it diminished. Because as I matured, so did my skills. I remember when I was in elementary school, learning how to tie my laces, doing the ‘bunny ears’ method (wrapping a lace around the other was impossible for me). I found another way to tie my shoes, even if it wasn’t as solid or as quick. Another example, kids with dyspraxia will struggle to throw or catch a ball; our eye-hand coordination is worse than that of our peers. While these examples seem minor, and they are, they didn’t feel like that when I was younger. I felt like something was wrong with me. I was like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit, although it looked like I should.
Like other disorders, many people will have overlapping disorders. The most common other disorders a dyspraxic will have are dyslexia, dysgraphia, dyscalculia, hypermobility, and processing disorders. Neurodivergency is a spectrum; just because it doesn’t have the common traits, it still is. Neurodivergency is when someone has a neurologic disorder.
Since most people don’t know what dyspraxia is, I’m not really open about it. If anyone asks what it is, I will tell them. Especially to neurotypical folks, I will play it off as a joke: “Yeah, my disorder makes me clumsy; you can laugh, it’s funny.” It is a funny disorder. But it is more complex and does impact me every day. I’m the only one in my family who is diagnosed with it, and they don’t understand it fully. They know about my motor skills, but they don’t realize how it impacts more than those. I’m aware of how I sound like I’m ashamed of it, but I’m honestly grateful for my diagnosis.
Also, since it is rare, there is no representation of it in the media. The only media we get is a romanticized, clumsy version of the character. Whenever I see them, I get hopeful that it’s a type of representation. After a few minutes of their introduction, the character becomes hopeless and clueless. Every neurodivergent person I know pays close attention to their surroundings and is highly resourceful. I hope for more representation for dyspraxia and other lesser-known disorders.