The term “dyslexia” was coined in 1885 by a German ophthalmologist and first appeared in The Satellite of the Annual of the Universal Medical Sciences in November 1887. However, long before this term existed, individuals across various cultures and languages experienced dyslexia. One such individual was Leonardo da Vinci.
In Proust and the Squid, Maryanne Wolf suggests that da Vinci was dyslexic. Walter Isaacson’s biography further implies that da Vinci may have had ADHD, noting his tendency to leave several paintings unfinished, including The Adoration of the Magi and Saint Jerome in the Wilderness. His dyslexia and ADHD is why we remember and revere his accomplishments 500 years later.
It is hard to fathom that someone with DaVinci’s artistic abilities and powers of observation would doubt himself, but in a 1490 screed he complained that “he was a man without letters,” but instead was a “disciple of experience.”
Even though he didn’t embrace “received scholarship,” by 1500 with the recent invention of the printing press, Venice was the center of Europe’s publishing so he purchased several texts. According to Isaacson, he was the first major European thinker to acquire a serious knowledge of science without being schooled in Latin or Greek. As far as Latin is concerned, Leonardo gave it his best shot.
Determined to learn Latin, da Vinci copied pages of words and conjugations from a textbook belonging to the Duke’s son while in Milan. This endeavor proved frustrating; in the midst of transcribing 130 Latin words, he sketched a scowling and grimacing figure, reflecting his exasperation. Ultimately, he chose to document his observations and ideas in Italian.
Although the British Audible narrator does a good job with the audiobook, it really grates on my nerves that he does not pronounce the city name as Mi-lahn, but as Mi-lann.
Leonardo had keen observation skills, loved nature and animals, and was well loved by friends. His compassionate disposition lead him to be a vegetarian. He favored empirical experimentation over theoretical deduction, applying his vast imagination across disciplines such as art, architecture, engineering, theater, and science.
What would have happened if he was confined to a modern-day public school classroom?
Reflecting on da Vinci’s relentless curiosity and diverse interests, Walter Isaacson, in a 2017 interview, noted:
“He loved to drill down and teach himself.”
“I think a downside would be, in his notebooks you see at times he’s distracted, or he gets totally obsessed sometimes, like 42 attempts to square the circle all on one page, and just page after page of geeking out on squaring the circle. He had these mood swings and depressions where he’s doing storms and stuff.”
“In our day and age, he probably would have been diagnosed with 42 different types of ADHD and obsessive compulsive and depression and manic and I don’t like applying labels like that, and they may have put him on some pharmaceutical regimen to cure them all and we may not have had the Mona Lisa.”
I have no doubt that everyone reading this article can think of at least one student who fits this profile. What might be possible if the remaining $4 billion in Covid-relief school funding was allocated to hands-on experiential learning in real-word settings for students who struggle with traditional methods, and who find it incredibly difficult to sit still for six hours each school day?