Issue 23: Dystinct Journeys of Lerato Motau and Mahlatse Pheeha

Lerato's Story

Lerato felt like she grew up in a world that didn't fully understand or accommodate dyslexia. The earliest memory that stands out to her is when a teacher told her grandfather, "You must teach your granddaughter to read". Lerato recalls how she thought, "I'm not going to be able to do this". Those words planted a seed of doubt in her mind that would follow her through much of her early education.

She failed Grade 4 and had to repeat it, and she clearly recalls thinking, "These things that I'm writing with the wrong spelling, if I was given an opportunity to say them orally, I know them". But the school didn't have the support she needed. As an artistically inclined child, the only subject Lerato found joy in during this time was needlework, taught at her primary school. Although she was exceedingly good at it, the trauma of not performing well in academics continued to affect her. In high school, things didn't get any easier. She failed Grade 8 thrice before anyone realised something was wrong.

These things that I'm writing with the wrong spelling, if I was given an opportunity to say them orally, I know them.

The turning point in her life came during a typing exam in her commercial subject class. "We had an exam for typing, and my spellings were wrong, and the teacher held up my script and said, 'Please, can someone read this out for me? I don't understand it.' Everybody was laughing at me and made fun of me. I cried the whole day; I still recall it," shares Lerato. Only after this incident did the teacher refer her to the school support system, who simply called Lerato's mum and said, "Your child has a problem. You need to take her to Chris Hani Baragwanath Hospital in Johannesburg." There, they met a clinical psychologist who, though not fully equipped for the assessment, told her mum, "I will try."

Everybody was laughing at me and made fun of me. I cried the whole day.

Lerato recalls that just after 1989, schools began permitting black students to attend alongside white students, and they were called Model C schools, with English as the medium of instruction. Lerato's mum took her to Parktown Girls' School, one of these schools. She didn't pass the aptitude test there, but the principal, recognising her struggles, told her mum, "I see your daughter has a learning difficulty. There's a psychologist from the UK nearby. Can I give you her number so she can be assessed?" Lerato went for the assessment, and afterwards, her mum received the results: Lerato had dyslexia. The psychologist recommended that she pursue a career using her hands.

At the age of 16, Lerato found herself at a crossroads. The schools she was referred to couldn't accept her because they considered her too old to be placed in Grade 8. "They said that I was older to be taken into Grade 8 at 16," she recalls. It was then that the psychologist suggested an alternative path. Recognising her creative potential, she advised Lerato's mother to consider enrolling her in an art school nearby, where she could pursue a Fine Arts and Teaching Diploma. This led Lerato to the Johannesburg Art Foundation, where she began her studies part-time.

I can't read, I can't write, but if you ask me questions, I would be able to answer them.

The classes at the Johannesburg Art Foundation were open to anyone interested in art, whether as a hobby or for leisure. However, as one of the youngest students in the class, Lerato faced scepticism. "I had questions from others saying, as a young child, why are you here in this class?" she shares. It was at this point that Lerato realised the importance of advocating for herself. "That's when I started advocating for myself, saying I need to speak up for myself now and find a voice to help me move forward and navigate life as a dyslexic person." One memorable instance was during a history of art exam. Lerato recalls, "I asked my lecturer, can I do it orally? He asked me why, and I said, I can't read, I can't write, but if you ask me questions, I would be able to answer them." Fortunately, the school was accommodating, understanding the diverse needs of their students, even those unable to speak English.

I'm glad that we have these apps available now that can read for us, spell for us, and do spelling checks.

At the art school, in her final year, Lerato majored in painting. The years spent at the Johannesburg Art Foundation were a pivotal time for her, not just in terms of her artistic development but also in learning to advocate for herself. "In college, I had to advocate for myself," she explains. "In all honesty, I needed to be given the choice of doing these exams orally. That was my main goal of advocating for myself, and it became my main strength in surviving dyslexia."

Fresh out of college, Lerato was making a name for herself as a talented emerging artist, but her dyslexia was beginning to create difficulties in her personal relationships. "I think that relationship-wise, we find ourselves not trusting what we do," she reflects. The fear of being misunderstood led to the end of some of her relationships. "Some of my beautiful relationships had to fail because I was scared at that time to tell my boyfriend that I had dyslexia. I just said, 'let's break up,' because I felt that 'how is this person going to take me?'" In her next relationship, her mother stepped in to help. "My mum would read the SMSs for me and also reply to them for me," Lerato recalls with a hearty chuckle. "Back then, there were no tools like the readers and apps we have today that help navigate dyslexia. I'm glad that we have these apps available now that can read for us, spell for us, and do spelling checks," she adds, appreciating how technology has eased some of the challenges she once faced.

As Lerato stepped into the next phase of her life, her journey took on a new dimension with the birth of her daughter, Mahlatse Pheeha, in 2001. Like her mother, Mahlatse has faced her own set of challenges with dyslexia. Currently in her final year of university studying fashion design, Mahlatse's journey hasn't been easy, but thankfully, she had her mother's guidance and support to help her navigate the difficulties along the way.

From a young age, Mahlatse struggled with core coordination issues, starting to walk at 8 months but showing early signs of difficulty with tasks that required the use of both sides of her body, like riding a bicycle. Lerato recalls that even as a child, Mahlatse feared escalators and anything with movement. By the time Mahlatse was four, she was attending Occupational Therapy (OT) to address these issues.

When Mahlatse started primary school, her struggles became more apparent, especially as her peers began to read more fluently while she lagged behind. An educational psychologist diagnosed her with dyslexia. English, being their second language, added another layer of difficulty for Mahlatse, who had to learn it to express herself in an English-medium school. Despite these challenges, the support she received from occupational therapy and learning support made a significant difference. The therapist even wrote to the school to request accommodations, which Mahlatse continued to receive through high school and into university. These accommodations, including extra time during exams, have been crucial in helping her manage her studies.

Lerato shares that the whole family, including Mahlatse's father, played a significant role in her academic and emotional development. "Milestones and breakthroughs started in Grade 8," Lerato shares proudly. Mahlatse began to excel, often ranking among the top achievers in her class. She continued to thrive in university, earning distinctions in her first year.

Our entire family—my mother, her father, and I —helped her in her academic and emotional development.

Lerato shares that although Mahlatse has become accustomed to the success that comes with the hard work she and her family have put in over the years, she still faces setbacks and occasionally needs encouragement. Recently, Mahlatse faced a tough moment, struggling with self-doubt after not doing well in an academic lesson. "You grow up with low self-esteem and doubting yourself. You work hard, and sometimes you don't get the results from the hard work you put in. We always find ourselves going back to, 'I'm not good enough at what I'm doing,'" shares Lerato.

To comfort her daughter, Lerato shared the advice she’s always lived by: “It’s not just about getting good marks; it’s about putting yourself out there. Now’s the time to advocate for yourself. You’ve got these accommodations for a reason—use them. Take the extra time on assignments and don’t be afraid to speak up for what you need.” It’s a message of resilience and self-advocacy that Lerato keeps reminding her daughter of as she tackles her final year of university, determined to turn her passion for fashion into a thriving career.

Reflecting on her journey as an artist, Lerato looks back at a time when Mahlatse was still a young child, and she herself was finding her footing in the art world, navigating the challenges of balancing artistic expression with the demands of entrepreneurship. She was confident in her artistic capabilities but realised that being an artist also meant becoming an entrepreneur. "The challenges I had as an artist were that you also need to become an entrepreneur, not just be in a studio and create work," she explains. This meant developing skills beyond her art, including financial literacy and effective communication. "I had to have skills like financial skills and communication skills. How do I speak for my art? How do I navigate being a business, not just an artist?" In 2005, Lerato took a finance marketing course through the Craft Council's SETA program. "The course helped me understand that being an artist isn't just about producing work; it has to include financial literacy and other skills needed to run a business," she says. This understanding was crucial for her to sustain and grow her career in the competitive art world.

As a young child, Lerato grew up on Vilakazi Street, a place of immense historical significance, which she attributes to giving her art a deeper sense of purpose. As the only street in the world to have housed two Nobel Peace Prize winners, Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu, Vilakazi Street is rich with history and cultural importance. Being raised in such an environment, surrounded by the legacy of these great figures and the vibrant community that thrived there, profoundly shaped Lerato as a person and deeply influenced the themes and direction of her work.

As a young child I had the opportunity to go and play with the grandkids of Mandela.

Lerato recalls playing with Mandela's grandchildren. "Life was nice, and after Mandela's release, people gathered in celebration, preparing for his return," she remembers. For about a month, the street buzzed with activity, embodying the spirit of ubuntu, where kindness and community care were paramount. "I remember we had a beautiful garden, and people would sleep in it, waiting to see Nelson Mandela." The significance of Vilakazi Street continued as it became a landmark for both local and international visitors. "I remember Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston coming to Vilakazi Street. Celebrities, whether local or international, visited Vilakazi wanting to have a sort of 'we were here as well' experience. It still continues with international and local tourists coming in," she shares.

Lerato finds personal significance in all the work she has created, but a few pieces stand out to her. Among them are her public artworks, including one at the local Bus Rapid Transport (BRT) station, another on Vilakazi Street, and a commissioned piece for the North West University. She also mentions a significant commissioned work at the Leonardo Hotel in Sandton, called the "Fabric of the Universe," a mixed-media tapestry that is a staggering 17 meters long and is accompanied by an additional 4 x 4m piece. "These works are special because they reach a larger audience than just private collectors — they're out there for everyone to see, almost like being in a museum," she explains.

These women listened to me when I said I can’t do it anymore, and they pushed me, saying you’re a great artist.

Lerato also reflects on her first solo exhibition, ‘Dyslexia Through an Artist's Eye’, and her second exhibition titled ‘Ten Thousand Women’, which celebrated the strength and support of the nearly ten thousand women who stood by her, “Sisterhood, community, and all the aspects of women who are strong," she shares. These women encouraged her during times of doubt, providing prayers, financial and emotional support, and pushing her to continue when she felt like giving up. "All of my work is important and significant to me because it represents different parts of my journey and the people who have supported me along the way."

Dyslexia is not a disability. It’s a wonderful talent.

When asked if dyslexia has influenced her work, Lerato is clear that it has added immeasurably to what she creates. "Dyslexia has added so much to the work that I do," she explains. People often comment on the texture of her work and the vibrant, dopamine colours she uses. "It also helps me in terms of my visual perception. Being a dyslexic thinker means I think beyond just the artwork—I consider how I want people to perceive and look at the work."

For Lerato, art has been a healing process, helping her overcome the childhood trauma she experienced during her school years. She reflects on her journey, proud that her work is appreciated both locally and internationally. "In the future, I will be part of the legacy of black female artists in history," she says confidently. Lerato is also passionate about supporting other parents and individuals on their dyslexia journeys. "I speak boldly about learning barriers because we are not stupid. There's a quote that says, 'Dyslexia is a talent, not a learning barrier,' it made me feel like I have a talent that nobody else has. I am able to solve problems without even writing or reading.

To young people with dyslexia, Lerato offers encouragement: "Dyslexia is not a disability; it's a wonderful talent. It gives you good problem-solving skills." Lerato acknowledges that while many people look up to celebrities who are dyslexic, she prefers to share her personal story. "When I speak to young people and parents, I say that sometimes I get tired when people speak about celebrities that our kids or ourselves don't know personally. The story I tell is what I went through personally as a black child, a woman, and a mother." As she continues to advocate for people with dyslexia, Lerato emphasises that there are strong dyslexic women out there who run their careers and their homes, and she is proud to be one of them."

Lerato's latest project, titled "Everyone Needs a Hero," is deeply personal— a tribute to the men who have supported her throughout her life. "My new project that I'm embarking on is to create a collection of male portraits," she shares. The inspiration for this project comes from her grandfather, a skilled craftsman who was the first person to be told about her dyslexia and who supported her fully. She plans to complete this collection by 2025, honouring the legacy of those who believed in her.

Lerato and her daughter Mahlatse hope to set up an organisation in South Africa to spread dyslexia awareness and support families of children and adults with dyslexia. They recognise that there is still a long way to go in their country in addressing learning barriers, but they hope that by sharing their stories and talking about dyslexia, they can help parents and children understand and accept these challenges.

Lerato Motau

Extracts from Dystinct Magazine