The Dyslexia Dilemma Isn't About Dyslexia

I've been thinking a lot about dyslexia lately, but probably not for the reason most people would expect. Over the past few years, I've found myself involved in more conversations about reading difficulties, evaluations, intervention systems, and special education eligibility than I can count. Some of those conversations have been with parents, some with teachers, and some with administrators trying to figure out how to balance limited resources against very real student needs.

The details are always different, but the conversation often follows a familiar pattern. A student is struggling to read, the team reviews data, interventions are discussed, and someone asks whether dyslexia might be involved. Before long, the discussion begins moving toward evaluation, identification, eligibility, and services. None of those things are unimportant; in fact, they matter a great deal. But I've started to wonder if the diagnosis sometimes becomes the center of the conversation when it should really be just one part of a much larger discussion.

A few years ago, I sat through a meeting where a team spent the better part of an hour discussing whether a student met the criteria for a particular identification. It was a thoughtful conversation where the staff cared deeply about the student, the parents asked excellent questions, and everyone in the room was trying to do the right thing. Driving home afterward, however, something bothered me. We had spent almost the entire meeting talking about qualification and very little time talking about instruction. That realization has stuck with me ever since.

Shifting Focus From Labels to Systems

The more I thought about it, the more I found myself asking a different question. What if dyslexia isn't the biggest challenge we need to solve? What if the bigger challenge is designing literacy systems that know how to respond when a student begins struggling to read, regardless of what label may eventually be attached to the difficulty? I realize that's a somewhat uncomfortable question to raise. Part of the reason it's uncomfortable is because labels and diagnoses matter; identification can open doors to services, protections, and supports that students genuinely need, and I would never argue otherwise.

At the same time, our educational system sometimes behaves as though the diagnosis itself is the solution. It isn't. This isn’t a people problem—it’s a system design issue. A diagnosis can explain a reading difficulty, but it cannot teach a child to read. That critical work still comes down to core instruction. When I read the requirements of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) and broader disability law, what stands out to me is that the focus is ultimately on access and educational progress. Eligibility decisions are important, but they are not the end goal.

The true goal is ensuring students receive the instruction and support necessary to access a Free Appropriate Public Education (FAPE). Too often, however, the conversation in schools becomes organized around determining what a student qualifies for rather than determining how quickly and effectively we can respond to the demonstrated need. I don't believe this happens because educators are uncaring or because schools are intentionally delaying support. Most of the educators I know are working incredibly hard to help students succeed. I think it happens because institutional systems naturally gravitate toward processes.

The Friction Between Process and Urgency

Schools are designed to run on heavy procedural cycles. We collect data, monitor interventions, conduct screenings, and hold meetings. All of those things are important and absolutely should happen. The real problem occurs when the process becomes more visible than the student sitting in the middle of it. I've seen situations where teams felt compelled to wait for another intervention cycle to finish before making larger decisions. I've seen situations where everyone agreed a student was struggling, but there was structural uncertainty regarding the next procedural step.

I've also seen situations where months were spent discussing what category best described the difficulty while the student's reading challenges continued to grow. None of those situations occurred because people lacked good intentions. They occurred because systems sometimes become more focused on determining certainty than delivering urgency. Federal guidance regarding Child Find directly reflects this tension. The U.S. Department of Education Office of Special Education Programs (OSEP) explicitly states that a Response to Intervention (RTI) or Multi-Tiered System of Supports (MTSS) framework cannot be used to delay or deny a timely evaluation when a disability is suspected. Schools are expected to evaluate when a disability is suspected, but intervention efforts must continue while that process unfolds.

These twin responsibilities were never intended to be competing priorities. Yet in practice, many districts continue to wrestle with finding the right balance between procedural compliance and an immediate instructional response. The same tension consistently appears when conversations shift toward methodology. Anyone who has worked with families of struggling readers has likely experienced this. Someone discovers a specific reading program, another person recommends a different approach, articles are shared, and research is cited until the discussion becomes entirely centered on finding the right proprietary program.

Designing a Predictable Framework for Dyslexia Leadership Action

I understand why this happens, because when a child struggles to read, everyone in the room wants absolute certainty. The challenge is that literacy success rarely comes from finding a single perfect, branded program. Instead, meaningful progress comes from building an administrative system capable of delivering effective instruction consistently. As organizations like The Reading League highlight, implementing the science of reading requires systemic changes in leadership practices and scheduling, rather than just buying a new curriculum. The issue isn't the specific program; it's the system design.

The more I reflect on dyslexia, the more I find myself returning to that core structural idea. If a district only begins strengthening its literacy practices after significant numbers of students struggle, it reveals a fundamental weakness in Tier 1 design. If effective reading instruction depends entirely on a student's ability to secure a particular special education identification, our baseline environment is broken. If parents feel they must fight for access to foundational reading support, our educational structures are operating reactively rather than proactively.

To address this, leadership must intentionally restructure the school's response pathways. Strong literacy systems should identify difficulties early through universal screening and provide targeted support quickly without freezing services during evaluation timelines. Leaders need to ensure that the core general education curriculum explicitly and systematically addresses decoding and phonemic awareness, preventing special education from becoming a catch-all for core curriculum failures. Furthermore, instructional delivery must be decoupled from categorical labels, meaning master schedules should prioritize flexible literacy blocks based on student need rather than administrative convenience. Finally, providing system-wide professional development ensures all educators, from general classroom teachers to Title I specialists, share a common understanding of structured literacy.

Designing for True Urgency

Ultimately, these structural changes are not really about dyslexia; they are about reimagining system design. Perhaps that is why I have become less interested in debating labels and more interested in examining the school structures surrounding them. Under the landmark U.S. Supreme Court ruling in Endrew F. v. Douglas County, educational programs must be reasonably calculated to enable a child to make progress that is appropriately ambitious in light of their circumstances. Progress must be measured against objective, external standards, not an internal assumption of a child's limitation.

Strong literacy systems should be built around evidence-based instruction so that a student never has to experience prolonged failure before meaningful support becomes available. Dyslexia is real, and the students who experience it deserve our absolute attention, expertise, and support. But the longer I work in education, the more convinced I become that the larger challenge is not identifying the condition itself. The larger challenge is building literacy systems that respond effectively the very moment reading difficulties first appear. If we can do that, the conversation completely changes. Instead of asking, "Does this student qualify?" we begin asking, "What does this student need?" For me, that feels like the more important question.

References

• Endrew F. v. Douglas County School District RE-1, 580 U.S. 386 (2017).

• Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, 20 U.S.C. § 1400 (2004).

• Professional Development Committee. (2022). Five action steps for school and district leaders implementing the science of reading. The Reading League.

• U.S. Department of Education, Office of Special Education Programs. (2011). A response to intervention (RTI) process cannot be used to delay-deny an evaluation for eligibility under IDEA.