Fluent made language

LanguageBeing a stammerer, I believe, has the ability to provide an individual with certain positive attributes. One of the attributes I have found is a great respect for language. The experience of not saying what you want to makes you acutely appreciate the power of the right words. Whether it is in ordering in a restaurant or performing an oral presentation, you come to realise no word is a perfect synonym for another. Each word comes with its own unique associations and connotations.

Just recently, I have come to closely consider the words I and others use to describe stammering. The words may often sound positive – overcome, manage – but there are often subtle negative connotations present.

1398720426618Now, I am no linguist, but I decided to read a bit more into language and social stigma. In 1980, Dale Spender wrote a seminal text in feminism called “Man Made Language”. In the book, she lays out the power of language to influence society and individuals.

”[Language] is our means of ordering, classifying and manipulating the world. It is through language we become members of the human community”.

She then goes on to explain how the dominant sex “men” have dominated language – God is always a he, sex is penetrative – re-enforcing the lowly position of women. English is a man’s language that continues the oppression of women. This line of thought has since been continued from feminism into disability: an able majority has created a language that oppresses the disabled.

For a few minutes, I want to briefly write on how, maybe, a language pre-dominantly made by fluent people shapes our consciousness and our beliefs about stammering. How a fluent made language oppresses people who stammer. I would like to highlight a few more obvious words we could really do without in the stammering vocabulary. Words that continue to encourage society and stammerers to view stammering as a stigmatising defect rather than simply another way of communicating.

Overcome
I shudder with rage every time I read this one. It is the go to word for fluent newspaper writers everywhere: they aim to hold people who stammer up as inspiration porn to sell newspapers: not tackle social stigma. Look below the surface: overcome re-enforces stammering as a weakness. It implies stammering is something that can be beaten if only enough effort is applied.

Control/Manage
These two words are ubiquitous in the description of stammering therapies and successful outcomes for stammering therapies. They encourage stammering to be thought of as individual defect that should be minimised through effort rather than a disability which should be respected.

Grow out of
Commonly used when describing children who stop stammering. To me, it suggests those children who have not stopped stammering have failed to grow up. If only children who stammer were stronger, more confident they would have stopped this awful behaviour by now…

I think I may have just touched the surface with these few obvious examples. Society stigmatises stammering by a thousand cuts, not in an obvious fashion. I believe it’s time we started to use our walking thesaurus word-switching brains, refined by struggling with speech, to benefit stammering: to think about those subtly oppressive phrases we might use and replace them with empowering ones.

Patrick Campbell

Inside Culture Club

Dom: ‘Post brain injury life is about staying busy and in touch with the world. To that end one of the things I go to is a group set up by my counsellor Cathy that we tentatively call ‘Culture Club’. No, we don’t sit around and discuss Boy George! Once every two months a group of about 6 brain injury survivors plus Cathy sit in a pub in Teddington and discuss anything we’ve been up to. We’re all at different post brain-injury stages; we’re all different ages and very different people. Lotte is the cinema expert; I tell bad jokes and tell Martin I find modern art questionable. He sighs, I’m sure they all do. Cathy tries to stop me swearing. More sighs. The point is it is something to do rather than just sitting at home which seems to be the all too often fate of the brain injured. We have one thing in common, it’s not much, but it’s enough.’

Angela: ‘Everyone is friendly. I look forward to it a lot. I like the variety of topics. I find it funny and Dom makes me laugh. If I could sum up Culture Club in one word, I would use the word “stimulating”. I find the group as a whole, stimulating. I find it hard to communicate which can be frustrating. It helps when Cathy sits next to me as I feel as if I have a friend. I would recommend the group to other people.’

Toby Art 2016Toby: ‘A group for people with speech issues. Although it is called the culture club, it is basically a group for people to get together and chat. Topics could be theatre, comedy, film, TV…basically anything that is NOT sport or politics!
It is a fun and supportive group of people where you will not feel judged. I’m using it to focus on turn taking and concentrating on anything cultural that I might encounter. There is also a marvellous selection of biscuits made available! I do my artwork at:   www.workshop305.com

Martin: ‘Culture Club is a group. I didn’t want to be part of it. I didn’t want to have a stroke – but I did. We all have reservations and might be cautious about coming to a group like this. But once you are there, it’s friendly, inclusive and accepting. We are all different but have things in common. You can say and share as much or as little as you like. You should dare to join us and take that leap.’

Culture Club takes place every other month on a Tuesday morning. Check out the website for more information: www.intandem.co.uk/pdf/groups/cc2016_2.pdf or contact Cathy: cathy@intandem.co.uk .

 

Positive stammering

positive-language-possible-ableWhen I say to people sometimes that I see my stammering as a positive in my life, they can find it a strange notion. Normally people can only envisage stammering as a negative concept.

My stammering is my natural pattern of speech, and having a stammer does not limit my speech nor hinder my conversations. Communication is so much more than just a speaking voice; it is your body language, facial expressions, your aura. Over the many years in my adult life I have found that being quite open about stammering brings many more conversations and opportunities to make my speech a positive attribute in both my professional and social life.

Quite recently I was thrown back into the position of having to update my CV and prepare for interviews as I had relocated from Northern Ireland and needed to secure a new job.

I have had many discussions with people about how to introduce stammering into my interview conversations. Also dilemmas such as do we tick the disability box? When is the correct time and place to disclose the fact you have a stammer? Can we ask a potential employer for special measures without setting ourselves at a disadvantage?

Our main issue is that in fact we are all different, each person’s stammer is unique in the same way we are all individuals. What affects one person may not affect another, and what seems impossible to one person may be a breeze to another.

For me, I decided that my stammer was something I could be proud of. The experiences that I have had over the last five years I would not have had if I was indeed a fluent person. And so I sat to write my stammer into my CV without actually using the words ‘I stammer’.

This became so much easier when I look at my stammer in a positive way. Showing that through my working relationships my stammer brings strong characteristics is really uplifting. I am able to say that by being very aware of my own speech makes me much more aware and sensitive to other people’s diversities. This makes us much more approachable if others can see that through our own difficulties we are open to accepting theirs.

Through my contacts within the British Stammering Association, going to their conferences, Open Days and getting involved in community groups I can show that I have a good network and that I am actively sourcing and meeting my own needs for back up and support.

For me, stammering has not disabled my life, but has added to it. It has given me more skills that I may not have finely tuned if I had indeed been a fluent person. It has also got me more involved with people from all sorts of places and made me push my own targets forward in terms of doing things for myself and independent travel.

And so, during my interviews I always managed to get my stammer mentioned during a question regarding strengths, talents or interests. Never in a negative way, never in an apologetic way. Mostly it was well received, employers were genuinely interested and it didn’t seem to put any off.

Socially, as I have got older I have cared less about my speech and the amount of fluency I have. My friends and family have become more comfortable with it as I have opened up more. I cannot believe I wasted so many of my younger years afraid to discuss things and be open with people when I was struggling.

My own breakthrough, so to speak, was whilst taking part in some research and being asked to visualise and describe my stammer as a ‘thing’. Something tangible you can see and touch.

For me, this was what turned my stammer into a positive. At that time, I saw my stammer as a weed, like a growing, choking ivy. It could be chopped down, but it was always there, ready to grown again, untamed and relentless. I did not like the thoughts of living with that all my days and so there and then I decided the weed needed to change, something needed to be in its place. And only I could change that. Only I could make that happen.

So I became much more open, stopped trying to ‘fit in’, met more and more people who stammered through the BSA and was soon able to realise that so many people have this dreadful negative feeling towards their stammering. I wanted to change this, I wanted to try to get people to believe in themselves, and that even with a stammer you can be whatever you want.

A_sunflower

For myself, that weed is now a flower, a sunflower, tall and proud, bright and majestic. I had support to get it there, I couldn’t have done it alone. But we must reach out, go out on a limb, take a chance. We will stumble along the way, but the rewards are so much greater than finding we are choked by our own silence.

So for me, stammering has opened doors, albeit you have to be ready to pull that door open wide and walk through it. When you do, you are faced with a whole new world, one where we can all stand like those tall, beautiful flowers and feel the sun on our face.

Mandy Taylor

 

 

 

Stammering activism and speech and language therapy: an inside view

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This month Sam is guest blogger for the Did I Stutter? Project – you may read her blog here

Stammering: A Million Courageous Conversations

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“Iain, I’m going to be submitting a business case for promotion to manager in June.

I normally stammer on my name which then knocks all my confidence, especially when meeting someone for the first time. Also, my fear of stammering often stops me from contributing to larger groups.

These are going to be increasingly important for me if I’m to be promoted and to be a successful manager.

I’ve never discussed my stammer with anyone at work before but it would be great to talk. Can I book some time in with you soon?”

This email received in January 2015 was a simple but not easy way of inviting me into a conversation about stammering. It led to an authentic, at times emotional and certainly courageous conversation between two people who’d never met before.

For the email’s author, it was the start of a year in which they transformed their working relationship with their stammer and achieved huge personal growth. For myself, it was a privilege to have been invited to play a small part.

These days as Co-Chair of the Employers Stammering Network1 (“ESN”) I’m increasingly hearing about courageous conversations similar to the one I’ve shared above. Perhaps best described as a rising conversational tide across public and private sector organisations, it gives us encouragement that we’re on course to achieve our vision to “Change UK employment culture so everyone who stammers can achieve their full career potential.”

However, what does it really mean to have a courageous conversation in the workplace? 

After all, isn’t courage really about physical bravery such as a sporting success or military engagement? In many ways it is. Yet courage is also about less visible acts.

Poet and author David Whyte explores this interior dynamic as one where:

“To be courageous is not necessarily to go anywhere or do anything except make conscious those things we already feel deeply and then to live through the unending vulnerabilities of those consequences.” 2

In other words, a conversation in which we offer up our own vulnerability to others is courageous. When we talk for the first time about the pain, shame and stigma of having a stammer we are indeed revealing our vulnerability. The closer to the heart it is the more powerful and productive the conversation can be for everyone.

As Professor Brené Brown, an acknowledged leader in the field of vulnerability and courage, explains:

“Courage is a heart word. The root of the word is ‘cor’ – the Latin word for heart.

In one of its earliest forms, the word courage meant ‘To speak one’s mind by telling all one’s heart.’ ”3

In many ways the visible and invisible elements of courage mirror what happens to us when we stammer. In other words, what people see and what they can’t see. It is not the exterior physical manifestations of our dysfluent speech, facial contortions or defensive body language that can hurt us most, but the interior turmoil pounding away in our heads, stomachs and hearts.

Perhaps it’s no wonder then that employees with interiorised stammers, whose speech typically sounds fluent on the outside, find it so difficult to reveal their hidden dysfluency and feelings of vulnerability on the inside.

Yet Brené Brown reminds us that there is still true strength to be found here:

“Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage.

Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never a weakness.”4

So in practice, how can we successfully apply this vulnerability, truth and courage in conversations at work?

Timing can be everything and in the working world these conversations often happen as we approach points of change, whether it be a new job, a promotion or the opportunity to take on an exciting new role, especially if it requires more public speaking.

When as a senior manager, I was asked to join and lead our audit training team, it was totally unexpected as I’d always avoided instructing on any training programmes! After agonising over the decision, I accepted the role. Had I been more courageous, it could have been the catalyst for a conversation about my stammer. However, the dialogue with my boss amounted merely to his clipped comment that I needed to develop my facilitation and presentation skills, countered by my grudging acknowledgement that he might just possibly be right! It was another two years before we had that courageous conversation about my stammer as he mentored me towards becoming a partner in our firm.

There is no ‘preferred way’ to hold a courageous conversation and there’s an array of courses, multi-step programmes, articles and poetry out there. They range from “straight-talking, take no prisoners” to the “let the spirit take you wherever it will” approaches – it’s whatever works best for you.

Choosing the right conversational partner is choosing the right conversation. Do you want someone who’s going to be open, to whom you can listen and will perhaps be a little courageous themselves? Or someone more focused on listening to you and on being a friendly, receptive ear. Again, there’s no right answer. My own mentor was occasionally open, sometimes uncomfortably challenging and always supportive.

As helpful content and support for these conversations, the ESN website www.stammering.org/esn will soon include a series of case studies featuring employees talking openly about the relationship between their stammer and their work. Whether we stammer or not, much better though to use our own stories, the ones that only we can wholly tell, giving ourselves an open canvas to engage in a truly courageous way.

My invitation to you.

With a UK labour force of over 30 million people5, it’s a long haul journey to achieve the cultural change the ESN is aiming for. However, with over 300,000 UK adults who stammer, our families, friends, therapists and allies in both predictable and surprising places, our home team could very well be a million people strong.

That’s potentially a Million Courageous Conversations!

So my new year invitation to you is to become one of the million people forming our home team and to have at least one Courageous Conversation about stammering this year – a conversation through which, by being a little bit vulnerable, you’ll be amazed by what a difference you can make.

Iain Wilkie

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Iain Wilkie is a Senior Partner at EY and the Co-Chairman of the Employers Stammering Network (“ESN”).

All views and opinions expressed in this article are entirely his own.

 

 

 

  1. The Employers Stammering Network is operated by the British Stammering Association. For further information please email either Helen Carpenter at hc@stammering.org or Norbert Lieckfeldt at nl@stammering.org.
  1. David Whyte, “Consolations. The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words”, Many Rivers Press, 2014
  1. Brené Brown, “I Thought it was Just Me: Women Reclaiming Power and Courage in a Culture of Shame”, 2007, Gotham
  1. Brené Brown, “Daring Greatly: How the Courage to be Vulnerable Transforms the Way we Live, Love, Parent and Lead”, 2012, Gotham
  1. Office National Statistics, www.ons.gov.uk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Transparency

I like to be really transparent. Early after a TBI, I had such magnificently apparent social communication impairments that my verbal blurts were excused. As I recovered in visual processing, attention, balance, auditory processing, and something else I can’t remember (probably memory), I looked a lot less disabled. That made the blurts more noticeable and out of place. [Side note: if you work in brain injury rehab, notice I did not include executive function in that list of improvements because that was on a painfully slower recovery trajectory.] As long as I was well-rested and with friends I could usually control blurts. Add in stressors like exhaustion, a crowd, background noise, and the blurting would let loose.

While verbal outbursts are often considered inappropriate, there’s a beautiful truth behind them. I told someone once she reminded me of algae. While she shamed me for about 10 minutes in front of other people for this transgression, what she failed to do was find out what I meant. I was attempting to give her the highest compliment I could think of. I’d been searching in my mind for how to compliment this person, and all that would come to me was a sensation of appreciation and an image of algae. So I told her about the algae.

Barton springsAlgae–the kind I was picturing–is a luscious jewel-tone, so saturated in color as to almost be unbelievable. It’s miraculous in its depth of color. It’s soft and inviting, pleasantly fuzzy even when wet. (That is so cool about algae!) Algae appears delicate but is robust, spreading its influence far and wide. You can try to stop it, but you must humbly lose. Your algae will return, and no matter how you feel about that, it will always be back: strong, resilient, soft, and green.

This was several years ago when I had no capacity to verbalize an explanation like that. It was just a sensation, the color, my childhood memories of Texas summer heat on my skin and the softness of algae on my arms as I rested in the freezing, unchlorinated waters of Barton Springs. I felt the memories, and I wanted her to be loved the way I loved playing with the stringy strips of green that floated on the clear spring water.

But no. Inappropriate. Rude, inconsiderate, oh well.

I have many Autistic and neuro-diverse friends, and we spend a lot of time communicating online. Since I now live in the frigid tundra of Portland, Oregon, I’m not hanging out at the swimming hole anyway. So I’m online a lot. I’ve learned many wonderful things about effective communication from this particular community, and I want to share two of my reflections about that here.

  1. Sometimes there is no cruel intent at all behind a statement.

Why, exactly, is it a problem if I say I don’t like your dress? I’m only saying I don’t like your dress. This isn’t to insult you. It’s 100% possible for me to dislike your dress while still holding you in the highest esteem and even asking you for fashion advice down the road.

Consider that sometimes there is no emotional baggage, ulterior motive, or crap behind verbal outbursts. They’re thoughts that come out without regard for the listener’s feelings. But that doesn’t mean they’re intended to hurt the listener.

If I say I don’t like your dress, we could move on. You’re even welcome to tell me that hurt your feelings! Then, I can say, “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.” This is how it goes when you’re transparent with your thoughts and don’t assume someone’s trying to hurt your feelings.

  1. Be so transparent that it hurts.

I like to use HTML mark-up. You don’t have to understand computer code to do this, and in increases the odds that your intentions will ring loud and clear online.

If I want to be sarcastic, I make that into HTML-type instructions. (Instructions are inside <>):

<sarcastic>I don’t like your dress.</sarcastic>

(Of course, I don’t get why someone would say that sarcastically, but they might.)

If I need you to know that I sincerely love your dress:

<sincere>I love your dress.</sincere>

In real life, I speak in HTML opening mark-up. I say, “It doesn’t sound like I mean it, but I really like your dress.” Or, “Don’t be fooled by my tears; I’m really happy. I’m just crying.”

When someone with executive dysfunction blurts, even if they say something hurtful, you’re not obligated to assume it’s supposed to be hurtful or inappropriate. There’s always the possibility that the words came out in an unintended tone of voice, the wrong words came out, or that they were exactly the right words, but you didn’t want to hear them.

I want to make sure that we find partnerships in communication. People with brain injury are expected to curb our verbal outbursts, think before speaking (who really does that?), and be more kind and polite. I would ask that as we work on steps in that journey, listeners explore their listening and investigate the ways in which we are just as likely to misunderstand what someone said (or meant) as we are to sometimes say something that didn’t work out. Transparency, not resentment, might be a great key to helping us get through the awkward blurty times, whether we’re the listener or the blurter.

Cheryl Green, MFA, MS

Cheryl-with-waterfallCheryl creates media that combine personal narrative, humor, and social critique to create dynamic, accessible tools for cross-disability justice. She is on the board of Disability Art and Culture Project and served on the board of Brain-injury Information Referral and Resource Development (BIRRDsong). She volunteered with the National Black Disability Coalition and the Portland Commission on Disability.

info@storyminders.com
www.WhoAmIToStopIt.com
Stories from the brainreels podcast

 

Stutter-Affirming Therapy: Removing the Obstacles to Spontaneous Speech

isad_ribbonHow can we help people who stutter come to understand stuttering as something other than the negative opposite of fluency? We can begin by exploring with them the mechanisms of ableism that position those with disabilities as inferior. People do not exist in a vacuum. Discourses that give meaning to our world pre-exist our births. Our experiences and the meaning we make of them are contingent on these discourses. For example, the narratives circulating in our milieu surrounding masculinity, femininity, sexuality, race, and disability will drastically impact the experiences we have and how we make meaning of them. However, it would be overly simplistic to see stuttering as merely a problem of able-bodied oppression. People who stutter come to us with a very real embodied complaint that speech is difficult and effortful. They are not able to say what they want to say when they want to say it. Can we address both the social reality of ableism and also the individual reality of tense, effortful speech without appealing to fluency? Absolutely! Ableism and tense, effortful speech are both obstacles to enjoyable, spontaneous communication. When we focus on removing the obstacles to spontaneity we both work within a framework that does not privilege fluency as more desirable than stuttering and also honor people who stutter’s lived experiences of struggling to speak.

Obstacles

Privileging Fluency

  • Many people take for granted that the preferred outcome of therapy is fluency.
  • Focusing on spontaneity leaves the outcome of therapy open-ended, recognizing that communication is dynamic, sounding different in different situations with different individuals.

Discrimination and Stigma

  • We can encourage people who stutter to see their stuttering as an act of civil disobedience. Each and every time they stutter they are engaged in a political activity. They are refusing to let ableism silence their voices. They are stuttering even though society would rather them speak fluently or not at all.

Coping mechanisms

  • Often coping mechanisms that have been developed to help mitigate the experience of daily stigma and discrimination prevent spontaneous speech because they prohibit open stuttering and attempt to obfuscate it.
  • These can include the addition of starter sounds, silent blocking, hesitant pauses, changing words, tensing of articulators, and avoiding speaking altogether.
  • People who stutter can be encouraged to break up these coping patterns. Together, we can find easy, enjoyable, and pleasurable ways of stuttering.

Stuttering as hardship

  • The experience of stuttering is often presented exclusively in terms of suffering and hardship.
  • Fortunately these problem narratives can never capture the full richness of people who stutter’s lived experiences. They will have plenty of material from which to craft new narratives with new meanings.
  • We can assist people who stutter to uncover moments and memories that contradict these problem narratives by exploring their past experiences for times that stuttering was not unpleasant or worrisome. Maybe there were even times they enjoyed stuttering.
  • Ableist discourses run deep in our society and often people who stutter will need additional support crafting stutter-affirming narratives. We can invite them to roleplay stutter-affirming communication both in the therapy room and outside of it. How would someone who enjoys stuttering act? How would they speak? What would their stuttering sound like? What would it feel like in their mouths?

iStock_000012551980XSmallStutter-Affirming Therapy
By welcoming people who stutter to address the above obstacles to spontaneity we can support them in making new meanings of their experiences. They can come to understand stuttering as a valuable part of their lived experience and not merely the negative opposite of fluency. By affirming the experience of stuttering we open up its meaning to a myriad of possibilities. Its unpredictability can be fun and exciting rather than a source of fear. The movement of lips and tongue can be pleasant rather than frustrating. The sounds of repeated syllables can be desirable rather than embarrassing. We must not restrain these new meanings with any preconceived notions of what success looks, sounds, or feels like. Instead we can help people come to take pleasure in their speech no matter its form, to help them find a stuttering aesthetic of their very own.

Happy stuttering!

Christopher Constantino

Christopher Constantino is a PhD candidate at the University of Memphis and a speech-language pathologist at Shelby County Schools. His research interests include the discursive and material production of disability, the therapeutic process, and the facilitation of agency. Chris enjoys riding his bicycle. Contact him at christopher.d.constantino@gmail.com

There is always an alternative!

letitgobyleunigYou could call me a supervision junkie. I love it! I always have. To be honest I find it hard to understand those who don’t feel the need for it as for me it is like oxygen. It is one of life’s essentials. Essentially it keeps me, a speech and language therapist of nearly 25 years (very scary!!), breathing deeply and steadily, in the demanding and often surprisingly formidable and sometimes treacherous environments of schools of South London and Surrey. I know that if I did not have regular supervision, I would not have the stamina to continue to be fit to practice and I would have choked under the heavy pollutants of managing unrealistic expectations and negotiating the smoke screens and barriers to providing the best care for my clients. Supervision in all its forms – 1:1 with a supervisor for overview of my work; peer supervision with someone working with a similar client group; group supervision in a wider geographical area; occasional supervision with a specialist in a specific field – I access all and need each.

Supervision is like a filter, it gives an opportunity to sort out the stuff that needs sorting and provides a cleaner, more concentrated view of the contents. Over recent years, I’ve been on the two supervision courses by intandem on “Being Supervised” and “Being a Supervisor”. I have attended a practical course on Personal Construct Psychology (PCP) (Kelly) to improve my problem solving and questioning. Through the Counselling CEN, I’ve attended a Brief Solution Focussed Therapy course and have learnt a lot about active listening by being a member of an Action Learning Set. All of these opportunities have provided me with tools for ‘filtering’ my clinical and supervision work, so that I have a way of looking at things with clarity and with new ideas distilling through from the process.

Here are the top 5 ‘gems’ which I have learnt so far that help me in my role as a supervisor and as a person needing supervision:

  • There is always an alternative way of doing things (Kelly, PCP)
  • If someone has a problem, ask them what they think could help. It is often easy to forget to do this! (Kelly, PCP)
  • Supervision comes in lots of forms, but the 1:1 face-to-face session is the most powerful. To be listened to, properly, without interruption and with the full attention of another person, allows the person being listened to, to think more clearly than you would ever expect. Give this to your supervisees and clients and they will be very grateful. (Action Learning)
  • We are what we do! Always find out what sort of supervision history people have had in the past and what they have done. Asking them to draw a timeline of this can be very useful. (intandem courses)
  • “What else?” This is a very useful question to ask and opens up a million and one possibilities that might not have come to mind if the question had not been posed (Brief Solution Focussed Therapy)

Final thought: No one likes to be told what to do. Supervision should not be about being told what to do. It can be a very rich and fertile opportunity to grow and be nurtured and do things a different way. I challenge you to give it a try.

Ann-M Farquhar

B App Sc (Speech Pathology), MSc (Human Communication)

Speech and Language Therapist in Independent Practice

Interests in: Language Disorder, Social Communication and Supervision of Speech and Language Therapy Colleagues.

See my YouTube     https://youtu.be/5rZwG7IAzhg

 

Supervision at the fork in the road

image1We all start out with dreams and ideas about how our careers will go. It’s hard to foresee when, where or why the forks in the road will come, but it is almost certain that they will. This blog post explores two key ways in which supervision helped me to negotiate a fork in the path, keep hold of my dreams and step into independent practice.

Seventeen years ago, I embarked on a career in Speech and Language Therapy, with a dream to become a neuro rehab therapist. In the early stages of my career I was fortunate to have some great supervisors (also my managers), who nurtured my enthusiasm for neuro rehab.

In 2008, I took a senior post in a small department without access to clinical supervision within the organisation. I was holding a complex caseload, but for the first time also dealing with wider departmental and organisational issues. I felt the need for external supervision to develop my practice and take care of myself as I entered a more challenging stage of my career.

My line manager continued to oversee my work in post, particularly supporting my CPD, and helping me develop the SLT department. The separation of my clinical supervision to another time and place enabled me to attend to the needs of my clients, as well as my own needs, within this increasingly challenging work context. Through external clinical supervision, I had the freedom to reflect on the needs of my clients more deeply and my own journey more broadly.

Hawkins and Shohet (2007) discuss self-care as an important aspect of clinical supervision. Drawing an analogy between the ‘good enough helping professional ‘ and Donald Winnacott’s concept of the ‘good enough mother’. The ‘good enough mother’ may struggle to cope with the rigours of motherhood without the help and support of another adult, just as the helping professional may struggle to cope without the support of a supervisor. At this point in my career, I was faced daily with the devastating reality of people’s lives following brain injury. I was starting to develop quite strong ideas about addressing these needs with clients but also felt frustrated by the difficulties of achieving gains for my clients. I could easily have been worn down by these frustrations, but with wise and meaningful supervision, these difficult experiences ‘….. were survived, reflected upon and learnt from’ (Hawkins and Shohet, 2007). Through supervision, I became much more conscious of my concern to address my client’s ability to participate in their chosen life roles and started to think about how I could facilitate this for them.

It was at this time that my own personal circumstances changed. With a young family I was keen to be as present at home as much as possible without completely losing connection with my profession. I started to explore how to manage this change in my life and find a way to continue working within my chosen specialism.

Cathy and Sam have written about the changing role of supervision which ‘….. has now extended to one that supports and facilitates emotional resilience, opens up possibilities where there seem to be very few and fosters an individual’s personal/ professional resources to manage change’ (Bulletin, February 2013).

With this changing picture, refined by my professional interest and constrained by my personal circumstances, my supervisor helped me to consider diverse options as I stood at this fork in the road. I don’t remember who initiated the idea of independent practice, but I know that this path seemed daunting, much less travelled and insecure. I didn’t know how to begin walking away from the security of paid employment.

The supervisory relationship was a place of safety that allowed me to: test out ideas, evaluate the pros and cons of working independently, make plans and connections, review early steps and ask silly questions. I saw my first independent client in 2009, nearly six years ago. The transition to independent practice has been necessarily slow as I have been at home with my family, but this has brought with it opportunity to reflect on each small step in supervision and build slowly in confidence. With my supervisor’s support this process has been much smoother and more satisfying than it might have been as early ideas have come to fruition.

Work is not how I envisaged it seventeen years ago, but it does really work for me in the context of my life now. However, I could so easily have missed this path if I had not been able to access great supervision at the fork in the road.

Mary Ganpatsingh
www.communicationchanges.co.uk
@Comm_Changes

References
Supervision in the Helping Professions, 3rd edition (2007), Hawkins, P. and Shohet, R.
Supporting robust supervision practice, Sparkes, C. and Simpson, S. (February, 2013) Bulletin