Make Room For The Stuttering

I wasn’t going to write about this, but its been on my mind since good friend Mitch told me and some others this story Friday night. I shared it last night at support group, because a young man asked me how do I handle negative reactions.

As you know, I just returned from the NSA conference in Arizona. It is a stuttering conference. There were well over 600 people there, the majority of whom stutter.  Other people there included family members, SLPs and people who care about stuttering. Anyway, down in the lobby bar late Friday evening (actually early Saturday morning), I ran into a few friends still up discussing something that Mitch had overheard earlier, out in the hotel parking lot.

He had walked by a group of three guys, talking and leaning against a vehicle. The guys were talking about their experience at the hotel. One guy said something that everything was great, except “you got these stutterers here at the hotel, and they take so fr-fr-fr-fr-fr-icking la-la-la-la-long to say anything, its ridiculous and holds everybody up.” Mitch heard this whole thing and was furious, of course. Mitch is a person who stutters and SLP. He said he walked past the group, put his hand on his chest/heart area, and said, “That hurts, man.”

When Mitch came in, he was obviously very upset and shared what happened. He was very angry that these people actually said this, and very angry with himself for not having said more. I could tell the way he told the story that he was fuming, disappointed, angry, and hurt. It was the hurt that I sensed the most. I think he reacted the best way he could at the moment of impact. He couldn’t know if these guys had been drinking, what might have happened if he really “went off” on them, or if his engaging them might have fueled them even more.

I thought a lot about this and wondered how I would have reacted had that been me.  I would have been angry and hurt as well, too, and probably very disappointed in myself if I didn’t at least say something. But it’s hard to know what one would really do in that situation.

I remember a  time when I was truly being made fun of. I felt such shame. It was about two years ago, when I went into a store to play lottery numbers. The clerk laughed when I stuttered, and mimicked how I said something. I had to repeat it, and he laughed and mimicked a second time. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t – I was stunned, paralyzed with shame and embarrassment, and worried about what the people behind me in line must be thinking. I remember my face getting red and hot, and when I was done, I practically ran to my car. I then started crying, the big sobbing, gasping kind of crying, and just stayed there like that for about 10 minutes.

I was really ashamed of  crying like that, and more ashamed that I let the guy get away with it. I was so angry with myself for not being strong enough to correct and educate him. Just so you know how it ended, I stewed over it for about a week and couldn’t let it go. I found the courage to call the manager of the store. I almost started crying on the phone with her, but stayed composed and told her what happened and how disrespected I felt.

She was stunned into silence and apologized profusely. We actually talked for about 20 minutes, and she asked me what I wanted. I told her I just wanted her to know, and she said she would do sensitivity training with all of her employees. She also commented that it was very brave of me to call and tell her what happened. I learned from that experience.

So, I guess it depends on the moment and what we are comfortable with. There is always going to be someone who teases or mocks someone with a difference. We don’t live in a perfect world, and none of us are perfect. I am still learning to not be so hard on myself, but sometimes it just happens. And I try to learn from that. Sometimes I think I care too much what other people think. And I remind myself I am human.

My friend Mitch handled his situation and emotions in the best way for that moment. What do you think?

I am still feeling as though I am on cloud nine from this weekend spent in the desert with so many people who stutter and people who care about the stuttering experience. I will surely  have several different blog posts this week, to describe workshops I attended and to share some of the specific experiences that moved me.

But today, I want to just discuss and explore the feelings associated with being at a stuttering conference and then coming home. I was anxious this year heading to the conference. No one else from my home chapter was able to go. I had always hung out with my group and felt safe. This time, I would be on my own to meet and greet. In a way, this turned out to be my best experience yet at a stuttering conference. I felt especially free this weekend, to meet new people and really spend a lot of time getting to know people.

Funny things happened. People came up to me, wanting to meet me. People who have seen me on Facebook, or YouTube told me they felt they already knew me and looked forward to doing it in person. This felt really good. I spent a lot of time doing this. Several people told me I come off just as I seem – warm, comfortable, approachable. Years ago, I would have been embarrassed by this. This time, I just took it in and allowed myself to feel how good it felt. I smiled a lot, hugged a lot, and felt my heart stirring with warmth ( not just the desert heat!) 

I am going to share 3 specific “best moments” from the conference today, but already have the ideas in my head for several other conference specific posts for later in the week. I had such a full experience, from the moment I arrived, and really want to share it all. My heart and mind were both open for this experience, more so than for the first three conferences I attended.

Thursday night’s Opening Ceremony set the tone for what would prove to be a very special weekend. One of the best moments for me came as a shock and surprise. My name was called to join a presenter up on the stage. I had no idea, but learned I was being presented with the award for “2009 Volunteer of the Year”. My NSA Chapter members wrote up a beautiful speech and Diane Games read the heartfelt words. My hands started shaking, I got a huge lump in my throat, and the tears came. I was so honored and moved, and felt such an amazing warmth, as I was recognized by my friends from home who could not be at the conference. I was asked to say something, and could not. I think my tears of joy said it best. I felt warm and loved and blessed and held and at peace in that moment, which continued on as I hugged friends who congratulated me, which kept the waterfalls going.

Another “best moment” was actually best hours. I mentioned that I took time to meet new people and really talk and get to know folks. I had an absolutely wonderful time getting to know a new friend, Ammar. He is a warm and caring person, and someone with whom I felt very comfortable. We talked and talked and talked for hours, losing track of time and others. My heart was very open and I found myself sharing parts of me with Ammar that I usually keep pretty guarded.  We shared our stuttering, laughter, serious moments, worries and fears. Ammar shared with me that I am very approachable and break the ice so easily with people. He also said he finds my stuttering attractive, as it is smooth and relaxed, and that even with blocks, I appear able to easily maneuver out of them. This was the third time I have heard this in about six months.  It really did make my heart spill over with a warm sense of self.

I also felt so comfortable stuttering with many different people, and noticed that others noticeably loosened up and stuttered freely with me as well. I felt my openness and willingness to share that part of me helped impact others in a positive way. Some people who have been very covert shed some of that over the weekend and used the words “liberated” and “empowered”. I was deeply moved and touched by this. I honestly felt I was making a difference and allowed the warm feelings to pulse through me, instead of feeling embarrassed and pushing the feelings away.

Another “best moment” was when I stopped and spoke with Gary, a SLP from Oregon. He approached me, and said he’d been looking for me since the first day. He told me he read an article I wrote, which was published in several places, my blog and the Friends newsletter. It’s the article on “Things I Look For In Therapy.” Gary told me how he read it and found it to be one of the best pieces he has seen on stuttering. I was overwhelmed. He said he used “MY” article for his graduate class and included it as a question on his final exam. How cool is that? I was truly overwhelmed to think that something I wrote quite some time ago has had that far of a reach, and I didn’t even know it. It made me feel proud and happy and warm, and I felt the tingling warmth in my heart again. My heart was brimming over for most of the weekend.

This was a powerfully affirming experience for me. I am reminded of  how far I have come and why it is so important for me to share with others. It is a healing journey, filled with ups and down, twists and turns. My tears this weekend were cathartic and cleansing. My authentic self rose to the top this weekend. I hope you got a sense of just how special and loving this was for me. I felt part of such a wondrous community. This much I know is really true.

I look forward to sharing more later this week.

How do you know when you have found something inside you that needs to be felt and processed? It comes to you, suddenly perhaps, and won’t leave until you deal with it. Feelings are not easy to deal with. They leave you vulnerable, mushy, sometimes raw. I have been almost buckled under lately by an overwhelming feeling of sadness that just won’t go away. Sometimes, for no reason at all, I feel all teary-eyed with a sudden lump in my throat. Then I am trying to push something down.

I think this unfelt feeling is grief. It sure feels like grief. I feel like I am missing something, and you feel grief when you are experiencing loss.

I may be experiencing loss of my former stuttering self. For three years, I have been gradually more and more overt with my stuttering, and in turn, more and more accepting. In many instances, I have nearly lost the covertness I had for so long. With the gradual open stuttering came a lightness within me. As my stuttering self relaxed, I was at ease publicly stuttering and publicly disclosing. People remarked that my stuttering has been easy and relaxed and very easy to listen to.

Now, however, there has been a shift. My stuttering is not easy and relaxed. There is tension and I am uncomfortable. I miss the easiness I had. I miss the ease I had talking about stuttering. This is not the part that I wanted to “die to”. This may indeed be the loss that I am grieving.

I talked on the phone with a friend recently. She stutters and has had a long journey of ups and downs, trying to find an acceptable balance with stuttering in her every day life. She said something that quite startled me. And she prefaced it with one of those “I hope this won’t offend you” ( you immediately brace yourself for the worst when someone says that). Anyway, she says that when she first met me, I was bubbly and full of laughter. Now, I seem to have lost  that, and I appear to be more solid.

So, is it the laughter I am missing, mourning? Is solid bad? Am I am not  relaxed and laughing with my stuttering anymore? Is it that obvious? We talked about how the journey takes us in different directions and where this might bring me. 

Feelings have a funny way of showing up announced, leaving you feeling all mushy and raw, don’t they?

I am at the National Stuttering Association annual conference in Scottsdale, Arizona. By this date, I should be in full stuttering mode, attending workshops, meeting new people and re-kindling old friendships.

I have brought my camera and camcorder with me, and really plan to capture some of the moments of the conference. It is indeed special to be among hundreds of stutterers, and feel free to be oneself.

Some of the workshops I am helping out with include: the Toastmasters Demo meeting, where a small group of us run a mini-meeting so people who stutter who are thinking about joining can see first hand what its all about. That’s on Friday morning at 8:30 (ugh, the time- but I’ll make it). Then later on Friday I will be participating on a panel with Peter and Eric from Stutter Talk.

Then on Saturday afternoon, I am co-facilitating a workshop with my room mate Patrice Nolan. We are presenting “Pushing Past The Fear”.

I am confident this will be a great experience. I will share upon my return. I hope to tweet some updates too!

Trust who are – not who you think you should be or what you think the world wants you to be. I have heard this before and have shared it with other people. I have been in the business of counseling and helping other people for 25 years, but very often can’t see the forest through the trees when it comes to me. That’s why I sometimes feel so self-critical. “Hello, you help people every day, why can’t you do it for yourself ?”

If I knew the answer to that, I would be peaceful, balanced, secure that I have finally figured it out. And I probably would stop writing, because I would know the answer and there would be nothing left to explore.

I think I have figured a little something out lately with my shift in stuttering. I am not trusting myself to go through this change. I do not trust that it will be OK. It was like how I felt the first days after getting fired.  I was so afraid that I would fall on my face that I didn’t do anything for a while that would put me in a positon to fall. I didn’t want to, couldn’t, risk anything.

I stayed in bed for three whole days, until I just literally couldn’t anymore. Then I got up and started moving. And kept moving so fast. I think what I was doing was literally blotting out the feelings, so I wouldn’t have to deal with what had changed. I didn’t trust myself to move through the change, and just be with it, feel it, learn from it.

Thankfully, I did eventually, and learned how that experience really was the beginning of the rest of my life.

And this part of my life, this part with new stuttering, I think I have to just trust it. Just like before, if I project confidence and stay other-focused, good things will happen. If I don’t trust my stuttering self, everyone around me will know. I wear my emotions on my sleeve and face. You can tell when something is not right with me. I can tell. I can feel it.

So here it is again: Trust who are – not who you think you should be or what you think the world wants you to be. This is my challenge to you, and me! I am going to trust myself. How about you?

Copyright © 2009

Interesting reflection shared by support group member the other night. Gave people pause to think. Definitely got my attention. After listening to someone’s long share about being stuck and negativity, Brian mentioned that a friend of his told him years ago: “It’s none of your business what other people may be thinking of you. Just worry about yourself.” He went on to say that he thinks that stutterers can be very self-centered.

It can happen, if you get so absorbed in rehearsing what you’re going to say, or planning an escape strategy, or obsessing over what the other person is thinking. Suddenly, there is no US or WE in the conversation. It just becomes about me, the stutterer, and what I am thinking, feeling, worrying, or obsessing about. I admit to having done this, a lot!

It made so much sense, and everybody kind of paused for a minute to process it. It was like a big “Aha” moment, one of those powerful moments that everyone was glad Brian shared.

It made me think of something I have learned, processed and shared at Toastmasters. I gave a speech a few months ago, from the Public Relations manual. The objective was to promote Toastmasters and review some of the selling points. I shared that one of the things I have finally learned about public speaking is this: “It’s not about ME. It’s about the audience, the listener.”

The minute I realized that and shifted my mind-set, I was able to shed a ton of nervousness. When one speaks publicly, you have to be speaking to the audience. You have to be in tune with why they are there, what do they need and how you can deliver and fulfill those needs. And one more secret: the audience wants you to succeed. If you fail as a speaker, they will have a miserable time as well as you having a miserable time. Some people commented that they had never thought of it like that, and liked that idea. It was my take-home for the night.

Well, guess what? Its the SAME THING when you talk one-on-one with anyone. The listener wants you to succeed as much as you want to succeed. They want to hear your opinion and point-of-view, or they wouldn’t be having a conversation with you in the first place.

This makes perfect sense to me. It can relieve us from being self-centered and make the switch to being other-centered. When we are other-centered, there is far less chance that shame will creep in.  This is a good speaking tip for anybody, not just those of us who stutter.

Thanks Brian, for sharing this little gem. Thats the power of the self-help community. We continuously learn from each other. Do you agree? Thoughts?

Copyright © 2009

Sometimes I feel like I have a great big dust-ball in my mouth. You know what I mean, right? That scratchy feeling you sometimes get when you try to swallow and your mouth and throat is completely dry. You try to swallow and it hurts. There’s no saliva. You try to speak and either just a little croak or absolutely nothing comes out.

This doesn’t happen to me only when I am stuttering. I can be having a great speech day and still get dust-ball mouth. When I talk a lot (which I can do) and forget to sip water, or worse yet, forget to bring it, the dust-ball settles right in the back of my mouth.

When stuttering with a dust-ball in your mouth, every delay and trip is magnified and worsened. It becomes obvious that not only have I run out of air to speak, but I also can’t even swallow. And I really struggle with actually trying not to swallow, because I don’t want to swallow the dust-ball. I can visualize the after-effects of swallowed dust-balls, and its not pretty. Choking up is one thing, literally choking on a dust-ball is something completely different.

If you are not sure how this feels, experiment with it. Take a cotton ball, put it in the back of your mouth and do some voluntary stuttering. “Duh-duh-duh-Dustball”. Its hard to do, without getting the cotton caught farther back in your throat and feeling that you are choking.

What possessed me to write about this? I have no idea, except that sometimes it really feels as if I have dust-balls in my mouth. You?

I have two beautiful stoneware pieces that I bought a few years ago. I loved the sayings. They look nice on my wall, but honestly, I haven’t paid much attention to them. 

Recent thoughts find me reflecting more on the meaning of life. I had one of those “Aha moments” as I passed by them today in my living room. I was even inspired to photograph them. I have been thinking a lot lately about living life more fully.

Dance as  though no one is watching you! Sing as though no one can hear you! 

Trusted mentor and friend J and I talked recently about change and taking chances,and how scary it can be to take the big chances that will result in big change. He once suggested to me to think about death when confronted with something that seems too overwhelmingly fearful. It took me a while to understand how powerful this really is. (See earlier post where we first discussed this, way back in April, called Surrender with Grace ).

I have talked before about the wonderful book I have been reading, Broken Open, by Elizabeth Lesser. It’s about how difficult times can help us grow. She devotes several chapters to the “practice of dying”.  Its fascinating, and I highly recommend the book.

Now, why would anyone want to “practice death”?  Lesser writes that when we are faced with a challenge or fear, we should “die to it”. In other words, ask what must die in order for us to give up the resistance, or our ego, or whatever it is that is holding us back. Many people fear death, so if you prepare yourself for it, everything else will be that much easier to face. Live your life as if this day was your last.

Lesser further asserts, “Practicing dying means living as close to reality as we can in each moment. It is the ultimate bravery.”

So, does this have anything to do with stuttering? It absolutely does. I am having a hard time right now with my stoppages, and I am trying to figure out a way to just give in to them. I have several good friends whose names begin with “J”. Joe shared something with me by email the other day, that has not left my head.  He said,

If there is one thing we know about stuttering, it’s that it changes, all the time. I’ve often felt that before things get better, stutter-wise or life-wise, they get worse first. I know that my big positive changes in my own stuttering were precipitated by increases in stuttering, tension, struggle, you name it. As much as you can, let that stuttering come, let the block happen. Sit there with it. It’s going to teach you something, we just don’t know what yet. You may want to try doing some of it, whatever “it” is, on purpose.

And although I wanted to be covert, I was never able to, so I don’t know covert like you know covert. But wouldn’t you feel kinda dumb if you had been trying not to stutter all these years, and there really wasn’t any stuttering under there in the first place? I know I would. This is the stuttering that you have been avoiding for years and years… the only way, unfortunately, to get past it is to go through it…

I think I may have to die to my stuttering, to re-accept this part of me. My ego may have become a bit too comfortable with what I thought I was comfortable with. I want to identify less with ego and more with soul. That is how I think I/we can live life to its fullest.

I am going to try and sit more with my stuttering and let it teach me what needs to be taught. I am also going to try to make more room to sit quietly and practice dying. It will help me to be more successful living.

What should you die to? What will you gain?

Copyright © 2009

For some reason, this memory popped into my head this week. When I was working as a manager at the job I was fired from, one of my responsibiltiies was to hold weekly staff meetings. Because I had two different departments, I held team meetings. One meeting was for the counselors and the other meeting was for the teachers. One of the things I always did was go around and give everyone a chance to talk. I always asked people to name at least one positive thing that happened that week. When I first  started doing that, they all thought it was corny, but it came to be the best part of the meetings.

I always started the meetings off reviewing any management stuff that needed to be shared, and then we would review caseloads and class rosters. Then I would go around the room and call on each person, starting with their positive share. I did this to keep meetings from becoming bitch sessions! I would call on each person by name, their first name. Leslie, Becky, Catherine, etc. Except for one person. I always called on her by her last name, so I would address her by Ms. Last Name. Why? Because her first name was Andrea, and I could not say it.

It always came out “An-an-an-an-an, dru-dru” and I would get frustrated because I could never finish it.  I hated that. (Looking back, it was one of the first moments that I was aware that keeping my stuttering hidden was a major pain. I am sort of ashamed I did this, but glad I am fessing up here.) And she worked there for over a year while I was still there!

So my trick was to call her Ms.”Last Name”. Until I began to obsess over that. I began to constantly worry that maybe she thought I didn’t like her because I never called her by her first name. I called everyone else by their first name, but was always formal with her. Even when referring to her with someone else, it was always Ms. “Last Name”.  I began to worry that she thought I hated her.

Now, come on! I had lots of things to think about. Overseeing two large departments, managing influx of students in and out of classrooms, doing scheduling every week, attending management meetings where I worked hard to maintain my covert-ness. And here I was worrying about whether Andrea thought I liked her or not.

Funny thing, I did. I liked Andrea, a lot. I just wished she had had a different name!  She was one of the best counselors I ever worked with. She was innovative, open to new ideas and met the kids where they were at. And she was honest.

We never talked about it. She never asked why I always called her by her last name. If I ever run into her again, I will tell her this story and the truth about her name.

And what does Grace have to do with this? One of my favorite sayings is, “When a person finds their voice, they take on grace”. Well, I have found my voice, and I am graceful.

This was one of my trickiest covert tricks to pull off. And I pulled it off for a while. At a price, though!  Does anyone have a similiar story?

Copyright © 2009

My cheese keeps moving and I don’t like it. I get used to my cheese being in a certain place and that’s where I expect it to be when I look for cheese.

Change is an inevitable part of life, but still, most of us resist it. One of the best books I ever read is “Who Moved My Cheese?” (by Spencer Johnson). The story is a fable about living in a maze and spending all of your time running around looking for, finding and eating “cheese”. Cheese is the metaphor for what we want to have in life, such as a good job, meaningful relationship, enough money, etc.

I live in a maze. I think we all do. The hard part about living in this maze is that the place they keep the cheese keeps changing. When the old cheese moves, you have to get off your butt to find new cheese. But it can be scary, as change often is. It involves taking a certain amount of risk.

It is often easier to remain stuck in old patterns and mind-sets even when they don’t work anymore and even when they are making us miserable. We are comfortable with what we know. We become attached to the way things are, even if they are bad for us.

This is happening to me. The way I feel about my stuttering has been changing, and I didn’t recognize it right away. Its not Swiss cheese with neat little holes anymore. No, its a block of cheddar cheese now. I never used to like Swiss cheese, but I grew to like it and am now comfortable with it. I make sandwiches all the time with Swiss cheese. Now, I have to get used to a block of cheddar cheese. Its hard to cut, the slices don’t always come out even and sometimes they crumble and fall apart. Like my stuttering. Sometimes, it falls apart.

The cheese in my relationship is also changing and moving. The more I grow and reach new personal heights, the more my partner wants me to stay the same. It makes me crazy sometimes, and I give in to it, because the alternative is scary. But one of these days, I am going to wake up and find that all of my old cheese is gone, and I will have no choice but to change course in the maze and discover new cheese. I think I will like new cheese. I think I am even testing new cheeses right now, sometimes without even realizing it. As a good friend said, its gives me hope.

What will it be? Feta? Goat? Brie? Something that I haven’t tried yet, that I know for sure.

What do you do when your cheese moves? Do you get off your butt and look for new cheese? I don’t think we have a choice – we have to look for cheese in new places.

Copyright © 2009

I talked with a friend the other day about skiing. I don’t ski – never have, and really have no desire to. I don’t think I was designed to have part of me on little wooden slabs, propelling  down a mountain. I am sure I would be holding on tight to the poles,  screaming all the way, much like I did one time I went on an amusement park ride.

I can remember riding on these big swings that turned you sideways and went faster and faster, higher and higher. I was holding on to the chains so tight that they dug into my knuckles. I was also screaming to the guy to let me off. He didn’t hear me, or chose to ignore me. Too bad, because unfortunately I got sick while flying through the air. I never did something like that again.

I was looking at pictures of Heather in her office of  her skiing hey-days. She was good. Could have skied professionally. She shared with me how it felt, the sheer joy and freedom of letting go and flying free. She described the balance needed to ski, and thrill of knowing exactly how to hold on and let go simultaneoulsy. It was like an art form, she said, the perfect moment, where she just knew when to let go and fly. She expressed such joy in the telling of this brief story, and I could see the exhilaration in the picture of her at that exact moment when she let go and took off.

I think stuttering is like that. I can hold on so tight sometimes when I should really just let go. I am talking about both the actual stuttering – what is heard and seen – and the emotions, that lie beneath. I have often held on so tight to fear of judgement, fear of ridicule, fear of punishment that I become paralyzed and unable to let go. So those feelings stay buried, and they get pushed deeper and deeper until I can no longer identify them.

Its all about balance. We need that. I need that in my life. My stuttering needs to balance with the rest of my life. It is better to let loose and let go, and just stutter freely. Holding on so tight creates tension and distress, which then has to be relieved somehow. I notice sometimes that I try to hold in a stutter and not let it out. Then, I get the unnerving tremor, spasm thing. My lips purse and tense, and I can feel my self  holding on when I should be letting go. The tension then moves a little bit, as I have noticed that when I am fighting the stutter, I have also been squeezing my left eye shut. I have mentioned this a few times before. It’s  involuntary – I don’t know I am doing it until I am doing it, and then I realize, “Oh no, I’m doing it.”

If I am tense and distressed, people around me sense that and get uncomfortable around me. If I am relaxed and in a good space, I send that vibe and those around me pick up on that. People react to me, to us, the way we are reacting to our selves. Profound, huh?

I know the answer – I should not hold on so tight and just let go, at the exact moment when it is right to let go. I have done it, and felt the joyful liberation of just letting go and being authentic. But stuttering is complex. Just when I think I’ve got it figured out, something else comes along to muck things up.

Don’t hold on so tight to your emotions and your stutter that you don’t let them out. It easier and feels better to let go, with joy and grace. Like with crying. Sometimes I hold on so tight and force myself to not cry. When I finally do let it go, it’s like waterfalls washing over me. Its OK to cry. Its part of the balance we need.

Have you ever had the experience of holding on too tight? Letting go? Both? It doesn’t have to be about stuttering. It can be about horseback riding, or hiking, or riding a bike. Whatever it is, sometimes it is just right to hold on and let go. Funny, how that sounds, but it sustains the balance.

Copyright © 2009

Hey everybody, please support Our Time Theater, the artistic place for people who stutter, founded by Taro Alexander, a person who stutters. Taro has dedicated his life to giving kids who stutter a place to freely express themselves through the arts.

Today, June 23, 2009, Our Time’s first album, Listen, is available for sale. The songs were written over several years by kids who stutter. This is a celebration of them having found their voices. Please support them.

The album can also be purchased at Barnes and Noble. Please support these kids and keep the amazing work of the Our Time Theater Company alive for many years.