How DIT helped bridge a communication gap

Like most students attending college for the first time, Donie Lowry was apprehensive when he embarked on a two-year certificate building maintenance technician course at DIT.

He had a particular cause for concern. He suffers from Landau Kleffer syndrome - althasia - which is a rare neurological problem which manifests itself as language disorder. Donie can hear, but is unable to understand the sounds. He communicates through sign language or via written notes. Today, we're sitting in the kitchen of his family home in south Dublin, while his father, Donal, interprets for us. "I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to cope," the young man recalls, through sign language. "It seems harder for people with disabilities than it is for people from the hearing world."

DIT has been extremely helpful, he says. From the start, they regarded Lowry's needs as their responsibility. They have provided him with notetakers. Every evening he returns home with two sets of notes which his parents - both teachers - help to make into a coherent set for him.

During exams, Lowry is allowed extra time and the services of an interpreter - who, under strict supervision, may explain terms on the exam paper with which he is unfamiliar. During lectures, however, notetaking works better than using an interpreter, because the subject is so technical. Linda Maguire, DIT's disability liaison officer, has been particularly helpful, he says. "Linda told me about the grants and showed great concern during the year." Lowry successfully completed his certificate course with distinction and last autumn he embarked on a diploma in architectural technology. With 240 Leaving Certificate points under his belt, he had previously thought his chances of getting on this high-points course were nil. He competed against 1,000 applicants for one of 45 places, his father Donal remarks. Lowry's experience in DIT has been a positive one, he says. From the start, he found students friendly. "In first year they seemed anxious to approach me because of my disability. I would gesture to say I couldn't understand and everyone was extremely helpful. At first, they thought I was deaf, but then they realised I could hear."

Discovering he was a football fan - he's a Liverpool supporter - was another breakthrough. "People supported other clubs and we disagreed, but in a friendly way." For two years, he played goalie for DIT's second football team. Although he can neither understand the spoken word nor speak, Lowry has little difficulty communicating with people. At home, he taught his friends to use sign language. In college, students clamoured to learn from him.

"I was fed up teaching sign language," he says, smiling as he signs, "because I was worrying about my projects and my work. One friend perfectly understood signing because she has a deaf sister." Lowry says he enjoys college, preferring the social life to the work. Friday night is his big night out, when he goes drinking with his DIT friends.

To the disappointment of the group, however, Saturday evening is a more abstemious affair - he can't drink, because he plays Leinster Junior League soccer for Park Celtic every Sunday morning.

At DIT, the study is tougher than it was in school, he finds, but he appreciates the freedom to use his initiative. And yes, he would recommend college to people with disabilities, especially if there's a course they particularly want to do. You need to be determined, he says.

And the future? "My ambition is to become a draughtsman in an architectural firm," he replies. He's already had work experience in practices and loved it.

Today, however, it's back to the books - exams are only a few short days away.