Make Room For The Stuttering

My good friend posed this question about two weeks ago. I knew I would eventually write about it, just wasn’t sure how I felt about this notion. We were talking about impatience and judgement, two things that people who stutter often face and fear. I know I have.

So, his premise is that if stuttering was the norm, then we would have much more patient listeners. People would slow down and focus, and use active listening skills, to be sure to understand stuttered speech. The stutterers would be revered, looked up to, duly respected. Listeners would hang on every word, for as long as it took for those words to come out.

Far fetched, maybe? But nonetheless intriguing. It makes perfect sense. People who stutter often give great presentations. The stutterer prepares more, speaks slower, allowing for listener process time, and makes effective use of pausing. Some stutterers also keenly understand the dynamics involved in good communication, which of course go way beyond fluency.

People who stutter use eye contact and body language to make a point and connect with the listeners. If you don’t believe it, go and listen to a stutterer giving a speech. Or try giving a speech yourself. You will notice a cadence, and as you  listen, you will pick up the words and content just fine. A stutterer will also repeat things, both intentionally and involuntarily! This is another great way for the listener to be sure they walk away with a clear understanding of what was said! Makes sense, huh! I know I got you at least thinking about it in a different way!

People who don’t stutter may talk way too fast, choose sloppy words and may fail to connect with the audience. Watch for that sometimes too. You’ll notice speakers trying to keep up with a tele-prompter, and forget that they should really be keeping up with the audience, those there for the purpose of listening.

I attended the annual conference about two years ago, for my state’s speech and language association. I had been asked to give a brief overview of my stuttering and how I have been impacted by change. I remember one of the therapists in the audience shared a tale (tall?) about a Zulu tribe in Africa where stuttering is coveted. People in the tribe who stutter are considered to have great wisdom. Other tribal members bemoan the fact that they don’t stutter, and strive to learn how to stutter.

Parents rejoice when children begin stuttering during language development, and breathe a sigh of relief when its not outgrown. The parents know their child will lead a blessed life, known for wisdom and powerful speech. Envy and prestige will follow this child through his life, as he or she is pre-destined to do great things as an adult who stutters.

Imagine that. A world free of judgement and impatience for stuttering. A world where stuttering is considered power and strength.

What if  stuttering was the norm? How would it look to you? How would your out look on life change? Can you imagine this?

Copyright © 2009

There is definitely a connection between stress and our level of stuttering. Most of the time,my stutter is mild, with easy repetitions and some hesitations. Lately, as I have been sharing, I have seen a subtle change in my stuttering pattern and have had, and felt, more stoppages along with the repetitions and hesitations. Its almost as if my stuttering is evolving or finding itself. This makes some sense. I was covert for years, and have only been stuttering openly for about 3 years. It is between the ages of 2 and 4 that stuttering develops. So, maybe that is what is going on, since my overt stuttering is only 3 years old. As I stutter more, it is changing and evolving.

I have had extra stress over the last few weeks. My partner is acutely ill, and his medical needs continue to grow. I myself had minor surgery two weeks ago, which of course adds stress to ones life. It has been very busy at school with end-of-year activities, staff lay-offs, and summer planning. I’ve definitely noticed I have been stuttering more, with a different pattern. I have been getting stuck more often, and have noticed a little frustration when that happens.

Yesterday was a good example of a stressful day. Partner was scheduled for surgery at 10:15 am,and we were told to arrive an hour before hand. He is diabetic and in renal failure, so not being able to eat was stressing him out. He was also extremely anxious about this particular procedure.

Once he was prepped and taken in, my job was to wait. And wait. And wait. Now, I don’t know about you, but waiting for long hours, feeling stressed and being alone is not a good formula. It is too much time to daydream about worst case scenarios, and it is too much time to think, period. I had a newspaper with me and a good book, but I was tired, and unable to focus on either for very long.

I nodded off a few times, while sitting in a very uncomfortable chair. A couple of times I went to the nurse’s desk to question what was taking so long. At least three times to the desk, each time, very disfluent. Even with simple 3 or 4 word questions. When he was finally done, he had to be in recovery for a while and I still couldn’t go back. So I went outside to get some fresh air, and my phone rang. I had a conversation with a friend, and again noticed a tension in my speech, and much stopping and repetitions. I could feel my lips tremor and felt frustrated. My friend had no problems with any of this. No, this was solitary frustration I kept to myself.

We know that stress does not cause stuttering, nor does anxiety or nervousness. But we do know that stress can certainly exasperate stuttering, and in my case, this has certainly been happening. I am stuttering more than usual, and not feeling positive about it. What  I do feel positive about is being able to recognize that this is going on, and acknowledging that this is yet another part of me that needs exploring.

My partner emerged from surgery fine. He has blocked arteries in both legs, and they had hoped to correct one yesterday and put in a stent,  to keep his artery open and make walking easier. They were unable to do that, so will schedule another procedure in a week or so. He can’t drive for 48 hours, so I had to get up early this morning to drive him to dialysis. I will go back in a few hours to pick him up. He has a lot going on, therefore I have a lot going on. And I think all of this plays into how comfortable and relaxed my speech is.

Has this happend with anyone else? Do you experience growth spurts with your stuttering? Are you able to recognize when things are changing? I think this is one of the periods in my life where I need to be very kind and gentle with myself, and just go with the flow. Stress will always be around. It’s how we react that makes or breaks us.

Copyright © 2009

I am very fortunate. I bet most of you reading this are too. I wake up every day, take care of my own needs, and drive myself to a job that pays me for the work that I do. There are tens of thousands of people that cannot do this, which many of us may have taken for granted. Not so much now with hard economic times and fewer jobs. These people of all ages rely on other people to provide the supports they need to get through every day. These are the people in our communities with disabilities.

This Wednesday night, I was installed as a member of the Board of Directors of an agency that supports developmentally disabled people. I accepted this nomination for a two year term. I am doing this because I can. I have a soft spot for people with different abilities. I have served for the last year as a member of the same agency’s Guardianship Committee. I help observe the rights of  people who can’t make medical or end-of-life decisions. We also work to ensure they are not taken advantage of, or denied care, just because they are disabled.

So why am I writing about this? It doesn’t appear to have anything to do with stuttering, does it? But if you continue reading, you’ll see a connection.

I just received my issue of inSIGHT, a newsletter that provides resources for families affected by many developmental disorders. One article caught my eye. It is titled “Encountering Someone Different”, and is written by a man who is a psychologist, a wheelchair user and grandfather of an 8 year old autistic boy. He writes about people talking over him, dismissing him, refusing to make eye contact, etc., because he is different. He discusses how the average person who encounters someone with a disfigured body or acting in a way that doesn’t meet the expected norm, feels distress.

“It happens so fast that we don’t even know what we are feeling. The first instinct is to find a way to diminish the stress. Sometimes, the reaction to the distress takes the form of  harsh judgement. This may include critical looks or patronizing comments. There is a price that is paid ,and not just for the person who is judged or ignored. Stress is a symptom – diminishing it by judging, criticizing or ignoring others is merely a form of symptom relief, like having a stiff drink.” (Daniel Gottlieb, Ph.D. 2008) He says, “its stressful facing someone different.” Gottlieb shares this story about his 8 year old grandson.

Sam is generally doing well in first grade but struggles in some areas. Recently he had class work that he didn’t understand. Embarrassed by his difficulty, he took his book home without asking his teacher. When he spoke to his mom, not only was he embarrassed about not understanding the homework, he also felt guilty about taking the book home.

In order to assuage his guilt, Sam’s mom explained: “Sam, they have a special piece of paper at school that says when you have trouble with your work, you can ask the teacher and she will give you extra help. And if you still have trouble, she will call me and I will also help you. But Sam didn’t feel better. He began to cry: ‘Mommy, I don’t want a special piece of paper.’

Sam speaks for most everyone who is “different”. None of us really wants that special piece of paper.

This piece really resonated with me. It touched me, in so many ways. I have heard it said that people who stutter are more sensitive to people with other disabilities. Some people who stutter can be disabled by their stutter. No matter the severity, all of us who stutter may have felt different, judged, ignored, patronized, inferior, disrespected, isolated.

When I spend time with people who have disabilities and their family members, I feel blessed to be able to make an impact. I share my ideas  and make suggestions, listen and ask questions. No one really cares if I stutter. In the scheme of  things, it doesn’t matter. Our communities have to be inclusive, of everyone, even if they look, act or sound different.

So what can we do when we feel distressed when we encounter someone who is different? Allow ourselves to feel the stressful feelings without trying to avoid them. (Hm, like stuttering!) Make eye contact, whether the person has Down Syndrome or fails to initiate speech. The grandfather of the 8 year old Sam says, “I have always believed that if you look in someones eyes, you  can find their humanity – and in that process, you can learn more about your own.”

The next time you encounter someone different, look in their eyes. And hope that someone looks you directly in the eye. We are different. We are alike. We are human.

Copyright © 2009

It creeps in unexpectedly. I know the tell-tale signs.  Flushed face, racing heart, averted eyes,  or some lame attempt at avoidance. Of all the feelings that can be associated with our stuttering, shame is the toughest. It speaks to how I feel about me, the person, not the stuttering, which is something that I do.

When I realize I am still dealing with the “S” word, I feel so hypocritical. Like, I have no right to write about acceptance when shame still affects me. I remember reading a piece by Bill Murphy on shame, where he reminds us of what shame is, and how openness about stuttering can reduce shame. I am very open about my stuttering, but still, shame creeps in, at those moments when I least expect it.

Murphy’s distinction between shame and guilt is worth sharing here: Guilt is associated with something you have done. Shame is related to the way you are. This means that you may feel guilt for something that you did or said. When you feel shame, its deeper. You feel something is wrong with you, that you are defective or flawed.

I still feel shame sometimes, (about stuttering, about past unspeakables) even though intellectually I know I shouldn’t. My head and my heart are not always aligned. So  those shameful moments, however fleeting, tell me there is still some healing to be done. For me, it means I have to talk about it with someone and write about it.

I felt shame this past week when I got stuck on something that I wanted to say at work. My face got red right away, and I tried to laugh if off, but inside I was feeling inadequate for not being able to say what I wanted when I wanted.

I felt shame when I talked on the phone the other day and had a long stick . The person on the other end asked if I was still there. Of course I was, I hadn’t hung up. I felt frustrated and remember saying to myself, “geez, I can’t believe this. What’s going on?”

I felt shame at the doctor’s office when a nurse asked me what hospital I had a lab done. I said “Sa-Sa-Samaritan”. The nurse looked at me and smiled and said “are you sure?” I was ashamed that I didn’t just tell her that I stuttered. That felt like one of those times that it was not the right place or time to do stuttering education or advocacy. You have to choose your moments. It’s tough when there are so many to choose from and you don’t pick at least one!

Instead, I feel the familiar shame creeping in, with its tell tale signs that yes, there is more work to be done. Yes, I am a work in progress. Yes, I am human and feel things that my head says I shouldn’t.

How does that saying go? Fool me once, shame on you! Fool me twice, shame on me!

I am only fooling myself when I am not honest about what I feel about stuttering and some of the other things. Shame on me for being lulled into a false sense of bliss. I have to be aware of my feelings, and really feel them, all of them – good and bad – and not allow myself to slip backwards into old patterns. That is not healthy. Shame on me!

Copyright © 2009

On the game show Jeopardy, you are given an answer and you provide the question. So the question that fits today’s post is: “How do you plead?”

I felt guilty for a long time after getting fired. Its been more than 3 years now, but I am suddenly thinking about it a lot. That could be a byproduct of the fact that I am thinking about and writing quite a bit on stuttering. (Bet you couldn’t guess that, huh?) But some thoughts just enter my mind and refuse to leave until I have processed it in some way. Like this guilt. When I first started feeling it, I pushed it away, like I was always so good at pushing emotions away. But it’s in my mind and I need to try and make sense out of it.

I was fired from my job because of my stuttering. My boss thought I was not communicating effectively. I’ve mentioned this  before. What I didn’t mention was that for a long time I thought it was my fault. I was very covert and afraid to admit to anyone, including myself, that I stutter. Because of this, I let my boss think what he wanted: that I was nervous, anxious, and afraid to speak in front of groups. Anything but admit that I stuttered. I was too afraid. I continued to keep it a secret (even though it really wasn’t  – my covert mind just thought it was).

So, for a long time, I thought it was my fault that I got fired. That if  I just had the courage to admit that I stutter, explain that it is a speech impairment and that it wasn’t my fault, that everything would have been OK, my job would have understood and and I wouldn’t have been fired. This is the first time I have put this on paper (so to speak – well, the computer.) I have thought about it, worried about it, obsessed over it, and finally, deeply buried it. For some reason, it popped back up this week.

Looking at it from a distance, I do not think that owning my stuttering would have made that much a difference. The company wanted me gone, and they would have found another key reason. “Not meeting performance expectations” was the main reason I was let go, with communication difficulties at the core. I’m sure they would have found something else.

My boss and his cohorts were not enlightened enough to accept stuttering as an acceptable style of workplace communication. After all, he did make fun of me, laughed and encouraged others to do the same.  I know now that I am much better off not being there. Moving on has been a good thing. People have told me it was a “blessing in disguise” that I was fired. It was what I needed to open this new chapter of my life and emerge a stronger, better person.

So, I was surprised when Guilt re-visited me. Put in an appearance. Rolled around in my mind. I know I have no reason to have felt guilty about stuttering at work, and the choices I made about being open about it. And it’s also not wrong for me to have felt this guilt. It’s a human emotion, and feeling emotions are OK.

So, if this were to happen again, if I was unfortunate enough to  lose my job again, it will not be because I have been covert about stuttering. I have been very open, and have put myself out there time and again. I like being able to say that. No, if I ever get fired again, it will be because I used up all the toilet paper in the staff restroom or made a mess in the microwave.

Have you ever felt guilty over something that you shouldn’t have? Whats the best way to deal with it?

Copyright © 2009

I think I may be in denial about blocking. I do not block, I find myself saying, a lot. When I hear other people who stutter talk about having blocks – both audible or silent – I think to myself, whew, glad that doesn’t happen to me.

But it does. For some reason, I just don’t want to call it a block. Sometimes I think of it as a spasm, others times a tremor or even a “stuck”. Whatever it is, I seem to be doing more of it lately.

Like yesterday at work – and this is really not a big deal – but at the moment, it was. Someone had rang the emergency bell from a classroom into the main office. The office clerk answers it, hears kids laughing, and she re-sets the bell. Kids had got access to the bell -they ring it again. She answers it again. Kids beep back, laughing. (Talk about crying wolf – but it is the last days of school for this year.)  Gym teacher walks by, he says, “well, that’s going well”, and a  couple of us chuckle. Clerk asks me what were we laughing about, and I tried to tell her, “Eric said ‘ that’s g **ing well’ , but I got stuck on the g, really stuck.  It came out “gggggggggggg” and nothing else. I couldn’t finish the word.

She got “the look” on her face -she got tired of waiting – and I just said “never mind.” I half-heartedly laughed it off, but I wasn’t buying it. I felt my face flush, that involuntary thing that always gives me away.  I hardly ever back down and say never mind, but I did. The “g” just wasn’t coming out. It was stuck.

Now, I am pretty sure that what really happened was a block. Its been happening more often lately. Not just on the phone, either. Maybe my stuttering pattern is changing a little bit. No big deal, right? After all, I am writing about making room for my stuttering, so I should be all right with these more frequent “stoppages.” I should be fine with accepting all of the different ways I stutter.

But guess what?  I’m not. I really don’t like this kind of stuttering. Really makes me feel like I am not in control. My repetitions are generally relaxed and easy, with a beat, as I recently discovered (!), but these abrupt stoppages are not my style at all. Not what I have been used to. Not what I have been OK with over the last three years.

I have put together a neat little package of what I call “my stuttering”. It hasn’t included this part. Why the denial? I can’t even call it “blocking”. I use other words. There must be something I still need to work on then, right?  We all have things we have to work on.

This is big for me – to write about and process something that I am presently conflicted about. Usually I feel more comfortable writing about something AFTER I have figured it out. Safer. So, where do I put the blocks?

Copyright © 2009

I didn’t intend to write today, because I already have a post written for tomorrow and several good drafts started. But this, I couldn’t resist.

Good friend and mentor J and I talked about stuttering last night, and he asked me a really surprising question. Well, two actually. What would happen if you paid attention to the aesthetic beauty of stuttering? What if you could learn to enjoy the sound and beat of your own stuttering?

Huh? Now you realize that it is only with really special people that you can have this kind of conversation. J does not stutter, but he has been around me long enough that it is perfectly OK for him to offer this kind of feedback. In fact, it’s almost like he has a standing invitation.

He said my stuttering has a “cadence” to it – like a percussion drum. When he saw the look on my face, he said, “Really. I have been closing my eyes and listening closely to some of your stutters and you have a distinctive beat. Almost every time you say certain words, you stutter exactly three times and then the word breaks free. Like this,  cah-cah-cah-communication, cah-cah-cah-college.” He then started drumming on his knee to a beat and was stuttering like me. This doesn’t happen every day.

This was very intriguing. He challenged me to listen to my stuttering and try to replicate it exactly, so that I could feel the beat. At first, it was hard to do. But I was game and tried it, much to his delight, and mine. I found he was right. When I say “stutter”, like as if on cue, it comes out, “stu-stu-stu-stutter.”  Same with “people”, it comes out “pa-pa-pa-people”.

J challenged me to experiment with my stuttering and try to replicate natural stutters and see if I can pick up the beat. He then launched into music, how my stuttering almost could be like a rap song. He said he has noticed that some singers do seem to put some pseudo-stuttering into a song for emphasis or maybe just the beat.

We then talked about stuttering having beauty. I reminded him that someone had told me my stuttering was attractive not too long ago, and he just smiled and said “yeah, I remember!”

So while I am practicing my “stuttering beat”, and smiling broadly as I write this, what do you think? Isn’t it awesome that two people who care about each other can have this kind of special conversation? Can you dare to think of your stuttering like this? If by chance you are a SLP reading this, can you see any value having this discussion with someone who stutters?

I have thought about this all morning, and had to put it on paper. Maybe J and I will write a song about it and put it to music, featuring a percussion drum, of course!

Copyright © 2009

A new friend and I had a conversation the other day about the things that really matter. We were talking about how we have to make time for the important things, especially in these fast-paced days of ours. Jack shared with me how Einstein beautifully summed up his understanding of time: “It’s what keeps everything from happening all at once.”

We all feel the pressures of time.  I have wished there was 8 days in a week or just two more hours in a day. With this extra time, I could get so much more done. But at what price? I have started thinking about that a lot, about how time measures so much. Puts so much pressure on us, me, to succeed, to do more, to try harder, or to miss opportunities or to fail.

One of my favorite oldie songs is “Time In A Bottle”  by Jim Croce. I liked it when it first came out and still like it now. (Heres a piece of  sad trivia. The song reached the top of the charts in December 1973, three months after Croce’s death in a plane crash.  I had also loved another song of Croce’s,  “Bad Bad Leroy Brown”. That was one of my favorites to sing into my pretend microphone – my hairbrush! I never stuttered when I sang!).

So why this focus on time? Well, the quote that Jack shared with me really made me think about some of my time issues, and something specific that came up just recently about timing. I did a speech a couple of weeks ago, and it was really good.

One of my Toastmaster colleagues suggested to me that I take that speech, tweak it a bit, and enter next year’s Toastmaster International Speech contest. I said no right away, that I am not a contest person. He was encouraging me, offered to help, etc.

I told him that I could never do that, because Toastmaster speeches are timed and I can never stay within the time limits. I went on to say that sometimes my stuttering creates extra pauses, unplanned hesitations, and that I often speak in a slower rate, to have more control. This takes longer, and I have not been able to stay within the time limits. He then said, “Oh, we can probably accommodate for that.”

I didn’t ask him at the time what he meant, because I was a bit flustered. He might have meant that maybe I would be allowed more time because of the stuttering. I am not sure if I would like that.

When I have given speeches at my local Toastmaster’s club, I am very aware of the time. We have a time keeper, who flashes colors, to help you stay within time limits. I hate it, because my time always runs out. When “red” is flashed, you are supposed to wrap up and finish. Many times, I am well over. People comment about it. Sometimes, I feel as if I am failing to meet this goal. Other times, I don’t care. But I don’t like the feeling of everyone watching me “go over time.”

In a speech contest, if you go over or under time, you are disqualified. I don’t even want to take that risk. To me, that’s unnecessary pressure. And for what? To win a trophy? To win? Sure, it would be nice. Is this something I am really missing out on?

Other time issues – my phone calls seem to take forever, as well as ordinary conversations. This doesn’t bother me as much, because I enjoy good old fashioned conversations. I actually relish talking with people these days, in sharp contrast to days of old when I would avoid talking. Sometimes I feel time pressures on the phone, especially when having to leave a dreaded message on voice mail. Too many times, the time has run out and I have had to call back to finish my message. I hate that. Has it ever happened to you?

So, all this brings me to the question. Should people who stutter be given extra time, as an accommodation? Should I get more time to give a Toastmasters speech? Should kids who stutter be given more time in class when reporting orally or reading aloud? Is that a fair or unfair accommodation?

Personally, I would not like being given extra time at a speech contest. That’s why I don’t want to do one. I think I should have to adapt, and prepare less material, knowing that I will go over time. Food for thought, yes? I would love to hear your ideas or comments on this.

Copyright © 2009

I knew I would eventually get around to trying to answer this question. It’s been asked before.

There is a whole community of people who think stuttering is a gift. The guys over at Stuttertalk talk about it a lot, with guests and listeners. Russ Hicks wrote a great paper about it and regularly talks about his gift of stuttering. Anita Blom ponders whether it might be a gift or poison. When asked about it myself, I have repeatedly said no, my stuttering is not a gift. My ability to communicate effectively is the gift.

I may be re-thinking this a bit. I may have been using a  “Cop -Out.”  Maybe by saying it this way, “effective communication is the gift”, I had really just been trying to avoid relating stuttering to something good. Because for most of my life, I had considered stuttering to be something bad. And I was really good at avoiding. Avoiding is easier than dealing with something difficult. But why would considering my stuttering to be a gift be difficult?

Someone at work recently asked me, “So, do you think your stuttering is a blessing?” Instead of answering straight out, of course I asked her why she asked. (A piece of me was incredulous that someone would think that about my stuttering). She said because my stuttering seems to give me “strength and confidence, and that it creates such a presence.”

Whoa, I could hardly believe that. Presence? Stuttering? Me? I had never thought about it like this. But Heather’s question made me think about those I have met who truly do believe that stuttering is a gift. (Eric, Russ, Peter, Joe, Greg – hmmm, mostly guys!) They all have  presence. Am I finally ready to believe this about my stuttering?

I began thinking of what “gift” means, and how I have felt when given a gift. To me, a gift has always been something unexpected that has made me happy or feel special. I have always felt partial towards the non-material aspect of gifts – like someone giving the gift of time, or their wisdom, or just giving something of themselves, saying the right things at the right time. Those gifts have always had meaning.

Dictionary.com defines gift as “a special ability or capacity; natural endowment; talent.” And “something given voluntarily without payment in return; present.” Heather told me that my stuttering enables me to reach people and leave them with something.

That sounds kind of heady! But I have felt really good and special when I talk to people about stuttering and what effect it has had on my life, and how accepting a challenge makes a person stronger. It feels good when I know that I have connected with people. When I am really honest and get emotional, I can feel that connection with others, because sometimes I see the same reaction.

Like when I told my childhood stuttering story to a parents group, and I got choked up at the end. When I glanced up, I saw a couple people with tears in their eyes. Moments like that let me know that maybe “being willing to share my stuttering experience” is the gift that I can give to others.

That still sounds like a cop-out to me. A couple of people have commented or emailed about this blog that some of my honest writing (and sharing) has brought them to tears. Me too. When I write about the real stuff, it moves me to tears, because I know that by sharing part of me, I am touching lives. Some that I’ll never even know.  And that is pretty special.

So, that must be it. Sharing is the gift. The definition says gift is giving something voluntarily, without expecting payment in return.  But I still haven’t answered the question. Is stuttering a gift? Why is that so difficult for me to answer?

I will leave it to you. What do you think? Is stuttering a gift?  I remember CrickettB commented on an earlier post that maybe I am a gift, and stuttering is the wrapping. I knew I wanted to come back to that. Can our differences be the wrapping on the gift of ourselves?

Copyright © 2009

Geez, I hate when this happens, don’t you? I was running late on Friday and decided to swing through the drive through of Dunkin Donuts and pick up something for lunch. I rarely stop there at lunch time. I am a morning coffee person, and go there every day to get a large Hazelnut, cream only. There’s a story in that too. 

For a long time, I would panic when stuttering on the “Hay-hay-hay”. Sometimes I couldn’t get past  being stuck at all and imagined everyone hearing me over the drive-through microphone. Sometimes, I would switch and order French Vanilla coffee, which I don’t really like, because it was easier to say. I always hated when I did that! But, even more I hated the dread I felt as I imagined people in the store laughing at me, as I could not get past “Hay-hay-hay”.  I DON”T DO THAT ANYMORE! I always order hazelnut, every morning, no matter how it sounds.

Anyway, back to the lunch time foray. Since I was in a hurry, I figured I’d get a breakfast sandwich and munch it at my desk, while changing gears for the afternoon. When I pulled up to the drive through, I already knew what I wanted. I said, ” Br-br-br-break fast sand-sand-sandwich, please, om-om-om-lette ssssssausage on a p-p-p-p-plain ba-ba-ba-bagel, t-t-t-toasted.” Before I was done saying it, I was already mouthing to myself,  “OMG , I can’t believe this. What’s going on?” This amount of stuttering totally surprised me!

When I pulled up, she told me my total and said it would be just a minute. I paid, got my change, and waited just a minute. Then she delivered my hot sandwich, smiled, wished me a nice day, and off I went. I was two minutes from work, and went to my office to eat at my desk. I opened the bag and lo and behold, there was the exact sandwich I had ordered and wanted, piping hot. I enjoyed my breakfast sandwich for lunch and then went on to the next activity I had scheduled.

Drive through microphone stations always give me trouble, similar to the telephone. It must be the time pressure thing, or the fact that I can’t see the other person’s face, so I am left to imagine they are laughing, as they hear this awful stutterer trying to order food.

Years ago, I would have not have ordered my lunch this way. These days, I just do. It is what it is. I stutter, and sometimes I want something fast through the drive through. I imagine things to be worse than they are. 

I stutter. Sometimes I stutter at the drive through. That doesn’t mean I stop going. I like junk food just like everyone else.

Has this happened to you? Have you ever ordered something you didn’t want because it was easier to say? I am glad I got just what I wanted. That’s the way it should be. Every time!

Copyright © 2009

This post does not have that much to do with stuttering. It is more about a very moving experience that I had, that re-inforces the value of community. I thought I would share it because the stuttering community certainly has moved me in a very special way.

A memorial service for a friend really gave me pause to think about community, and how critical it is to have a community of love and support while we are living. We should not wait until someone dies to celebrate the goodness we have in life.

I met Jean at a time in my life when I needed help, and I was strong enough to ask for it. I went to Jean for counseling, but in a short time, she provided much more than that. Jean was a friend in many ways – she was caring, non-judgmental, believed in me unconditionally, and encouraged me to do the same and love myself.

She was interested in learning about my stuttering, so we talked a lot about it. Something new for me at the time. We also discussed other issues in life that parallel the stuttering experience. In fact, Jean really helped me launch this whole journey of  self acceptance, and for that, I will always be grateful.

She began to share with me the things in her life that she found meaningful. She was deeply interested in peace and social justice, and was often involved in peace demonstrations. (A mutual friend would later tell me stories of the times Jean was arrested). She was involved in yoga and meditation, took care of her body and soul and practiced mindfulness.

As a psychotherapist, she was also deeply interested in dream work, and was actively involved in a new way of connecting with people – through cyber dream work. Before Jean became really ill, she shared with me stories of some of her recent trips to Ireland and Iceland. She and others were pioneering this new way of helping people find themselves through interpretation of their dreams – in cyber groups held all over the world using the connectivity of the Internet.

Throughout Jean’s courageous battle with cancer, when we could no longer meet together physically, she stayed in touch with me via email. She shared a treasure trove of private thoughts she had about the meaning of life, her gratitude for family and friends, and her excitement about soon becoming a grandma. She once told me how she reflected on life when a single beautiful gold leaf floated through her window, which helped her see the beauty of that day.

She also shared with me some of the bad stuff too how chemotherapy was effecting her, how humbled she felt when she was sitting in a room with other cancer patients getting their drugs, and the incredible pain she was experiencing. Through it all, I was honored and touched that she chose to stay in contact with me. She was sharing a story with me about living and dying with grace and dignity.

When the emails stopped, I wondered and worried. I did not know her husband, so I felt I would be intruding if I called. A friend let me know he had heard she was in and out of the hospital. It was this same friend who delivered the news to me when Jean died, seven months after being diagnosed with cancer, and two weeks after her granddaughter was welcomed into the world. I had prayed that the child would come while Jean was still with us. I hoped she had the opportunity to say hello to Kelsey Lynn, this precious child who Jean loved long before she arrived.

When I heard the news that Jean had died, I was very sad, but also so happy to have known her and felt her impact on my life. I learned there would be a Memorial Service to celebrate her life. I wanted to go, even though I did not know many of the other people in Jean’s life, or her family. Well, that did not matter, as when we all joined together to celebrate a beautiful life, we became one community, full of the same love and energy that Jean embodied in life. You could feel the spirit and one-ness in the room.

And I learned how Jean’s life quietly impacted so many others, as people shared stories about her quest for dreams, hope, and peace. Paper origami cranes, the symbol of peace, were hung all over the sanctuary, as a tribute to Jean’s belief in peace. We were all encouraged to take a crane with us. Jean was also accomplished in knitting and crocheting (which I did not know) and so many people spoke lovingly of the homemade gifts that Jean had given to people over the years.

All of us who knew Jean in life, and were present at the standing room only Memorial Service learned some lessons about death and living. A life well lived leaves a lasting impact on all you meet, even if, like me, you only knew the person for a short time. We leave gifts, a legacy, and those gifts will be passed on to others we meet in our lives.

I truly felt I was part of a special community of love that day as we said good-bye to our special friend. Her death was a celebration of living, and many people will fondly remember the peaceful woman who was sent off among the peace of the cranes.

I have my paper crane hanging in a special place in my home, and thank Jean often for coming in to my life. And I am reminded of how she unconditionally accepted me for who I am, all of me. That’s what its all about – unconditional acceptance.

Copyright © 2009

Who ever said stuttering publicly on a big stage and in front of a big crowd was easy? I never said it, that’s for sure.  As comfortable as I am with Pam, who happens to stutter, it is still daunting to get up in front of a big crowd and expose yourself. Stuttering or not, you want to look good and do well. That’s human nature.

Last night was the annual induction ceremony for our school’s National Technical Honor Society. As adviser, I orchestrate the ceremony, which includes symbolic candle lighting, a pledge that inductees recite, and calling each student  individually to receive their awards.

I arranged a practice session an hour before the actual ceremony. Because the students were from different programs and all had different schedules, this would be our only practice. I had given everyone the script well before this date, so the kids knew who was  to say what and when. The practice was to include walking up to the stage in pairs, “twisting on” the fake, battery-operated candles (can’t use real ones in a school), and arranging in some order on a small stage for the reciting of the pledge.

One kid was an hour late, so we had to practice without him, assigning another kid two parts. Late kid came as we were starting for real, so we went back to plan A.

During practice, my moment of truth came right away. As I was saying one line for the kids to repeat, I got stuck on “education”, which came out ” ed-ed-ed-uuuu-cation.” One kid towards front starting laughing, mimicked me, and laughingly said, “did you hear that?”

I stopped, and said ” Lets get this right out in the open. I stutter, and you’re going to hear some of that tonight, maybe a lot. I’m OK with it, and I would like you to be too, OK? Now, when you need to repeat after me, don’t repeat the stutter.” The kids laughed, as did some of the parents already there, watching practice. That was weird, but what can you do? I needed the kids there at a certain time, and their parents brought them. They were getting to see two shows. Some even took pictures during practice! The young man who had laughed was now very somber.

We finished, I reseated the kids and I talked to them again before we began officially. I very calmly suggested that the kids get all of their giggles out now, as one girl and same boy who had laughed earlier were giggling. The girl was just nervous. I reminded them all about my stuttering again, and to not let it throw them off.

So the time comes. I get up on stage, begin introductions, and proceed. It didn’t take long for me to realize that Stuttering definitely wanted in on this night. She was making her presence known. I remembered to breath and did what I needed to. I had a lot of whole word repetitions and some prolongations. And some good blocks! An especially tense moment was when “ca-ca-ca-ca-ca-college” took forever to come out. The sound of the blocking seemed to reverberate through the whole room over the microphone. That was the most vulnerable moment.

Then came time for the pledge. I gave the students thier instructions, and added over the microphone, “Remember, don’t repeat any stuttering.”  Nice, easy laughter followed. I stuttered several of the words. A senior student not being inducted was standing next to me, as she was a second year member. We read the lines together. It was awkward when I was stuttering a line, and she was done.

Without missing a beat, we reverted to her reading one line smoothly, the group recited, and I read the next, with stutters, and the group recited. We just kind of fell into that pattern of sharing the lines and it worked. What a great kid!

Then came the calling of the names. I had to read each students complete name, first, middle and last. Several were fine – several were stuttered on all three names. I felt a bit self-conscious, and quite exposed, but I was doing it. I paused long enough between names for parents to photograph their kids as they crossed and exited stage. It remained the kids night, as evidenced by all of the cameras flashing and the applause after each student was called and strode across the stage.

Before concluding and announcing that the next part of the ceremony would begin in a few minutes, I decided to add lib one extra thought. I have a favorite part from Nelson Madella’s inaugural speech that I know by heart. I shared this with the audience:

“As we liberate ourselves from our own fears, whatever those fears may be, our presence automatically liberates those around us.” I had liberated myself. Yes!

The induction ceremony then concluded and I had time to prepare to announce all of the scholarship winners towards the end of part 2 of the program.

The victory is in the doing. I had obsessed about how this night would go, for I really wanted to do well. I really did feel vulnerable and exposed. When I was speaking at the microphone, it was quiet. Everybody heard my words – and my stuttering. I put myself out there. I did my best. I did my job. I celebrated with kids who are beginning their adult lives. It was meaningful to be a part of that. We all learn from each other. I like to think that some people who didn’t know me before last night learned something about being true to self.

What do you think?

Copyright © 2009

This was a message that was sent to me yesterday. First happy tears came to my eyes, then such a big smile that I thought people were going to think I was even loopier than usual.

I just couldn’t take the smile off my face.  So I must share!

Hi Pam ,

Can I just say that through your positive attitude with stuttering , I took a leaf from your book and voluntarily stuttered (for the first time ever, instead of avoidance) just a little at the beginning of my interview. I added that I only mildy stutter, and that it increases when in a stressful situation. It has never impacted on my ability to do my job. This was accepted well and even with my practical activity with the children, it was OK.

I got the job and I feel fantastic and also true to myself  for one of the first times in my life.

THANK YOU !!!!

Is this great or what?  It makes a difference when we share our experiences with each other. It really does!

This was the best post I could make today – now I will go into my big stage event tonight with a smile in my heart as well as on my face!

Copyright © 2009

I get my nails done every 2 weeks. It is my one consistent treat to myself. The salon is always very busy, with lots of chatter.  Mostly in English (the clients!), sometimes in Vietnamese (the staff!). I always wonder if the staff are talking about us when they launch into their private conversations. Sure they are! 

We are clumsy American women who sometimes insist on a “do-over.”  I am guilty of that myself, plenty of times. Like when I’ve gone out to the car and put the seat belt on and smudged a nail, and came back in the shop, sheepishly asking for a “do over.”  They always oblige. Sometimes, I have to wait, but they always fix it. And its not they’re fault! It’s mine!

The nail salon is not a place where I have done any stuttering advertising. Never thought there was a need to. There is not really that much real conversation going on between staff and clients. I have had the same person do my nails for 7 years. Van knows what I like, suggests nice colors and does a great pedicure too. She is not shy about yelling at me if my fingers get too tense, and pushes and pulls at my hands as she needs to.

On this day, Van was very tired, as she had just returned from a 10 day trip to Vietnam the previous night and decided to come to work anyway, even though she was exhausted. That worked for me, as I hate having anyone else do my nails.

In case you don’t know it about me, I am a perfectionist. I like to have my nails (and everything else, for that matter) perfect. I am paying for my nails, so I deserve it.

Anyway, this post is not just about getting my nails done, as fascinating as it is.  So, we were talking about her trip as I was getting a “fresh set” (if you know nails, you know what that means – if you don’t, its not  important). Anyway, I noticed a speck of dust or lint on one of my nails, and I said something like,”this one needs to be looked at”, but it actually came out,”this, this , this one needs to be looked at.”  She said, “I heard you the first time -why do you have to repeat yourself ?” She seemed annoyed. Maybe she was just jet-lagged.

I thought to myself, “oh boy – now she thinks I ‘m being sarcastic or rude.” (It does not take much for my negative self-talk to kick in, does it?) She seemed like she was waiting for an answer. Without thinking, I said,  “Sorry,  Van, sometimes I stutter.”

She looked at me, perplexed. So then I said,  “Sometimes, I just repeat a word a couple of times. That’s what stuttering is.  I wasn’t trying to be smart with you.”

This all happened in about 30 seconds. It still seemed like Van didn’t get it, but we moved on. As we should, because it wasn’t a big deal. I was actually proud of myself for saying it like I did. I wish I hadn’t said “sorry” like there was anything to apologize for, because there wasn’t.  But hey, it’s one step at a time, right? As a stuttering friend has said, its all about baby steps.

I am not afraid to admit that I am still working on me. There is nothing to apologize for. Sometimes, I just stutter. Yep, I just stutter.

Has something like this ever happened to you?

Copyright © 2009

I received an interesting question from Bob. We know each other from NSA and one of the stuttering email groups. He asks:

Pam, have you ever done any dialogue about empathy and stuttering? I have been pondering my connection with others, both stutterers and non-stutterers. I found your post on acceptance level most interesting with regard to empathy. Some suggest that stutterers are overly sensitive to the feelings of others. I know I tend at times to shut out others which would have autistic (anti-empathic) tendencies. Then there is the other view of how others react to our struggle as pointed out in your post.  Let me know your thoughts.

I definitely feel connected with other human beings who have had difficulties in their lives, regardless of their speech pattern. My empathy comes from both my stuttering experiences and from the personal impact of  a difficult childhood. My gut deeply empathizes with anyone who has felt pain or shame in their life. Sometimes, I can almost feel what another person feels. Not like I am a psychic! I can just feel a connection with some people, and the empathetic part of me just takes over.

If we accept ourselves as we are, having empathy just comes naturally. If we are hiding and experiencing shame, we can sense that in others as well. I think this is why I have always been very good in my jobs as counselor. Having had personal challenges to face has  given me inner strength to share with others. For a long time, I didn’t even know that inner strength was there.

As Bob points out, it is not easy to have empathy with those who choose to react negatively when we stutter – be it dismissal or mockery. But I am learning that these situations provide an opportunity to teach someone about an experience that they don’t share or understand. Then, maybe empathy will one day be possible. I wouldn’t have this attitude if it were not the inner reserve of strength that I now have because of some painful experiences.

The one area that I need to work on that will bring me full circle to being able to offer empathy and deeply connect with some others in my life  is one that has been previously discussed. That is forgiveness. Being able to forgive my parents is a big challenge for me. I can honestly say I might not be able to do it. I have often asked myself, “Is that OK if I can’t do it?”  As a matter of fact, Greg offered me something really important to think about – forgiveness is for me,  not “the wrongdoers.”  Hmmm, I really need to see if I can adopt this.  As well as what Cricket says, that maybe I can forgive myself for not being able to forgive. More to think about.

Being able to forgive people who don’t understand stuttering should be easy. I can choose to help educate them, or I can choose to not interact with them. I can choose to hang out with the very large community which does get stuttering and me, and for that, I am grateful.

I am not sure about the last part of Bob’s concern. He says that sometimes he shuts out people, and views that as non-empathetic. He wonders if that is an autistic tendency. I don’t think it is. I think that’s just a natural, human reaction to hurt and pain. I have shut my father out of my life. I am not autistic. I am still reacting to childhood pain, and at times, the wounds still feel fresh.

As humans, we have been blessed (or cursed, depending on how you look at it!) to have feelings and emotions. In my case, I can’t always control my emotions. And I have not always been able to express or even identify my feelings. I used to stuff all of my emotions, now I am really working on freeing them and me.

I am a work-in-progress. We all are. That’s part of life and being human.

This is a great topic. Thanks Bob. What do other people think? Where does empathy come from? Do we all have it, or can it be learned?

Copyright © 2009