Eighth-grader Ronnie Patterson used to think he couldn’t learn.

“I thought I was stupid,” Patterson said quietly. “I just took longer to comprehend things. Just because I do it differently doesn’t mean I’m worse — I might be better.”

Patterson, a middle school student at the Warsaw School in Pittsfield, was speaking of his own experience. But his words could be the motto for a support group that has helped him gain insight into his potential for success in school. Now in its fifth year, the Warsaw School support group attended by 14 seventh- and eighth-graders is believed to be the only one of its kind in the state.

These pupils are among 2.3 million children identified across the country as having learning disabilities.

The support group represents only a portion of the 6 percent of SAD 53 students identified as having learning disabilities — 82 students out of 1,200. This small support group has refused the “disabled” label. Instead, the members recognize their “learning differences” and want others to know what that means.

Still, the stigma of the LD label prevented half of the group from participating in an interview for this story. And, even among the seven who are eager to tell of their frustrations, two would comment only anonymously.

Together, the Warsaw support group members have learned they have power — they can make a difference in their education — and they can learn. Yet they are filled with anger, distrust and frustration with what the education system has dealt them. They talk about being “stuck in a resource room,” repeating grades as their peers progress, having teachers compare them with older sisters or brothers, or repeatedly being told, “You’re not trying hard enough.”

Since being identified as LD, Patterson learned he ranks high intellectually through testing. That “feels good,” he said, in contrast to the low self-esteem and lack of academic achievement he suffered in the past. He is also the student who best describes how simply his LD has undermined his education.

“I can read the book. But once I’ve read it, I don’t know what I read. But if someone reads it to me, I know it like that,” Patterson said as he snapped his fingers.

Linda Brown, adviser to the support group, explained that when Patterson reads, all his energy goes into decoding the words and recognizing them. He can’t comprehend what they mean collectively. But once he is relieved of the decoding, his mind is receptive to learning and retaining the information.

Willie Holmes was in the third grade when he realized he was different from his classmates.

“I thought I was stupid. I couldn’t read as good as the rest of my class. I couldn’t do the homework,” he said. “My mom pushed for testing. My parents had LDs. They knew what I was going through, but they never had what I have now. They didn’t have special services then.”

In the support group, which meets once a week at the school, usually on Fridays, these LD students are learning to be advocates for themselves and their handicaps. This year, Patterson was one of two students who called for a P.E.T. — pupil evaluation team — meeting to redesign his educational program when he recognized it wasn’t meeting his needs.

PETs are meetings of teachers, parents and administrators to develop education plans for children receiving special services in the school system. PET meetings develop individual education plans, IEPs, for each student’s needs. The SAD 53 LD support group teaches students about the PET process and their right to participate. They are all familiar with their IEPs and use them to demonstrate their rights in the classroom.

In SAD 53, LD children are seldom removed from the classroom for specialized instruction in a resource room, as is routinely practiced in many school districts in Maine and elsewhere.

Being sent to the resource room is another form of labeling, the boys said. “Sitting in the resource room just makes you feel more stupid,” said Eric Stevens, “when everyone else [classmates] are outside looking in.”

“It’s like saying `Hi, I’m here because I’m an idiot,”‘ one of the anonymous participants offered with resentment. Being a member of the support group also carries a stigma, he said, and he is not yet willing to accept it. “Only one girl knows about my LD,” he said. “and she’s not talking.”

Being singled out, made to feel different and inferior can be another stumbling block in overcoming their handicaps. The support group is the place they learn and share coping skills for getting around the LD stigma.

Accommodations are made to help them remain in the classroom with their peers.

“They deserve the richness of the regular classroom. They need that, and it’s our job to provide the help they need to stay there,” said Brown, an educational consultant with the special services department in SAD 53.

The accommodations or “modifications” may include providing the LD students with calculators for math facts, extra notes to supplement regular texts or assignments, and a syllabus to help them prepare for assignments and tests. Teachers found some of the accommodations, such as the syllabus, created for the LD students can help everyone.

With Brown’s help, a handbook was developed to help the group survive its learning differences. It highlights their gripes, other ways to learn, how to get along with people at home and school, and what not to do when they are teased or pressured about their differences such as reacting in kind.

Brown said the greatest revelation for many of these kids is learning what they have. It has a name and a remedy, if not a cure.

For Miles Therrien, being identified finally gave him a reason for his behavior.

“I just thought I was a problem,” he said.

Therrien’s behavior was typical of a frustrated learner, Brown said.

During the interview, he, and others, demonstrated their frustrations with constant movement, jockeying for position and recognition to share their thoughts. Therrien teetered in his chair and repeatedly threw a ball up and caught it. Holmes answered questions perched with his feet on a chair, ready to jump. Stevens sat back, teetered, then rocked ahead to ring his hands while others answered.

Therrien’s LD was diagnosed more recently than others in the group and he is still angry at past teachers who failed to see his problem and, as a result, could not understand his frustration.

“If I had been tested earlier, they would have understood me,” he said, noting he was not tested until last year.

The support group is where anger and frustration are vented.

“It really stinks being behind everyone else [in schoolwork],” said Andrew Getchell.

He was quiet through most of the interview, but nodded and smiled at others as they vented their frustration and told their stories. Knowing he has an LD hasn’t lessened Getchell’s pain.

He is angry that he has to struggle when schoolwork appears easy for his classmates. But he also smiles with pride when Brown and the support group talk about his talent for invention. He has made an electric pencil eraser, among other things.

“And they work!” everyone said in unison. They all have learned to recognize their talents and those of others in the group.

When the interview became momentarily chaotic with everyone ready to detail every frustation, one participant brought them back to order. He asked simply, “Can I make them think?”

His question is posed to restore order and to help the students focus on their purpose. After months of talking, comparing and venting, they can put their frustrations into words and not actions.

“It’s not a problem now,” said Adam, who would not state his last name. “It’s the teachers and the kids [who are a problem].”

Teacher attitude and teasing by their peers are frequent topics in the group.

“What is it teachers are always asking you to do?” asked Brown. “Try harder! Before you were identified [with an LD] they told you, `If you try harder, you can do it.”‘

Names of the teachers or individuals who bother them are not allowed in group sessions, but they often know which people other group members are talking about.

“They [teachers] should be put in this situation,” Patterson said.

Therrien found it amusing to think some teachers might have LDs. Focusing on one, he quipped, “Oh yeah, what’s his LD? A tolerance deficit?”

Brown pointed out that the group is quick-witted and frequently provides humor for her to share with the staff. She is defensive of her special group, respecting its members’ feelings and right to confidentiality. But she also tells them it is their responsibility to change the attitudes of the people around them. If they want teachers to respect them, and their LD, they have to make their presence felt in the classroom by coming to class prepared, making eye contact with teachers, appearing attentive and saving disagreements for after class in a mature discussion with the teacher.

Better behavior makes them feel better about themselves. The group has helped them focus on the things they can do as much as what they can’t. It is not unusual for LD children to excel in other areas, and often in physical activities.

Holmes enjoys soccer, but also touts his aptitude for carpentry and woodworking. For Stevens, it’s basketball and swimming. Therrien names a number of sports. Most of them, like Patterson, profess interest and ability in working with automotives. Adam likes working outdoors and is knowledgeable about the woods. For Getchell, it’s his inventions. The remaining member is artistic and enjoys drawing political cartoons.

Focusing on their talents reaffirms their knowledge — LD does not mean stupid.

The success of the support group concept has earned SAD 53 special recognition from the state Department of Education. The group was cited during a state review of the special services department for its “exemplary model” and a method that “is very valuable in empowering the students and involving them in their education.”

The group will participate in a planned LD Association of Maine conference to demonstrate its members’ new strengths and awareness. They hope talking about their LDs will help more people understand them and children like them. People need to know what they have been through and what they will continue to experience throughout their lives dealing with LDs, they said. Teachers and classmates are their specific target for education and understanding.