Tag Archives: Authenticity

Me, My Stammer and I

If someone had said to me few years ago that I would one day write a blog about something I am extremely conscious of, I would have laughed out loud! But here I am and this means a big step for me.

As long as I can remember, I have always stammered. I remember when I was about 5 years old and I was struggling to ask for a toy from a boy in a classroom and he said with a puzzled look, why do you talk like this? Up until then I never really noticed my repetition of words, struggling to get the words out etc.. I went home and asked my mum and she said it’s because you are still learning to speak and I believed her for a very long time!

Fast forward many years and I am still “learning to speak”! I was bullied in school for my stammering and my parents had to come for many meetings with the school to talk about it. Having any speech therapy was never an option as my parents believed it would all go away if I gave it time. My family helped me immensely by showing their support and patience, but I grew up thinking stammering was something to hide and not talk about to the world.

Despite being good academically I could never enjoy school, but my good grades and the thrive to achieve more kept me going, I always wanted to act and take part in debates and speeches, but settled for singing instead. This gave me a chance to experience the fluency I dreamt of. I used to envy people who could say what comes in their mind without even thinking about it!

waves Over the years my stammering was like waves with high and low points, but I became very critical and unforgiving of it. I would go over and over my speech and keep telling myself that I was not trying enough to speak properly. Thinking about it now makes me feel sad at how I would be divided into two with one side trying hard to communicate and the other just being negative! I hid my stammering from everyone and would cough, pause or whatever known hideaways to cover my stammer when talking to my friends and family, even at work. I managed to work as a telephone operator in a Call Centre for four years, but the constant efforts to cover up my stammering often made me extremely tired and out of breath.

It was only few years ago that I decided to try speech therapy. That decision did not come instantly as I had often thought of it, but only found enough drive to do something about it then.

The first call I made to find out about NHS speech therapy was very daunting in its own way. I was invited very quickly to the first appointment with a therapist in Chippenham, Wiltshire where I lived at that time. I went to the first session thinking there would be a magic cure waiting for me, but was also very apologetic to the therapist for wasting her time! After a few sessions, it was obvious that we needed to address my psychological approach to stammering before the physical side.

I attended a few sessions there and learned to be as kind, gentle and friendly to myself as I am to others! I know this sounds strange, but I learnt to look at me from a distance and appreciate myself. I started to take each conversation as it happened rather than thinking the whole day was a failure if I had stammered a few times during that day. Just as I was beginning to learn the positive ways to understand my stammer, we had to move from Wiltshire to West Sussex.

This threw me out of my comfort zone and I went back to my old self! It took me many more months to find out about speech therapy in the new area. I was told that there would only be one or two sessions to attend in my area before this service moved to Horsham, West Sussex. Desperate to do something about my attitude and state of mind, I took the chance. To be honest those two or three sessions probably did little to improve anything but they were reassuring enough to make me feel I was on the right track.

Finally, the speech therapist in Horsham helped me to achieve more and explore further. My anxiety was more about causing discomfort to others, but I learnt how that might not be the case and that others are not even bothered by it! We went through the relaxing techniques as well as some breathing exercises to ease the tension around my neck and upper torso, which helped a lot. I had days when the therapy or techniques were helpful, but there were also many days when I felt lost, confused and went back to my usual self-blaming thoughts!

One of my tasks set by my therapist was letting my employer know about my stammering. It happened at the right time as I was going for a job interview for a role I was extremely excited about. I went for the interview thinking there was no way I would get this job after I mentioned my stammering – I guess old habits die hard! But I was a little shocked and somehow disappointed to see that as I mentioned stammering and my therapy, they thanked me for letting them know and just moved on! I was hoping for gasps at least, but not even a slight twinge! That proved even more that my stammering was not as much of a trouble to others as it was for me.

I got that job and am still working there 5 years on. Not even once has anybody mentioned that my stammering has caused them any trouble or has come in the way of my job. My confidence grew with the years and I found a relief in letting people know about my stammering. This also gave me a starting point to focus on learning new skills and making new friends rather than worrying about where I stammered or got lost for words.

As one of the three speech therapists I had once said, “there is no such thing as perfect speech! It’s all about how you get your point across.”  I still have days or moments when I find myself lost for words or feel out of control, but then I take a moment and think that as long as I am able to make the other person understand my point, it’s ok.

I decided to stop taking therapy back in July this year because I felt I had gained enough skills in order for me to find my own way to be a “happy stammerer”. This ability to be ok with stammering is something I never thought I would achieve.

As much as I appreciate all the hard work my NHS speech therapists have put in to help me achieve this state of mind, I feel this was only possible when I decided to take control of my stammering rather than being controlled by it.

Anyone out there who is wondering whether therapy is for them… or perhaps have had therapy, but did not find it much help, I would like to say it’s more like trying a hat… you will have to try a few to find the one that fits! And once you find it, it will not solve all your problems but it will give you enough lift to face life with your head high!


Amna

 

 

The Day after International Stammering Awareness Day (ISAD)

kite-007Disclosing one’s stammer is easy they say… vital I say. In fact it is very much a technique I subscribe to, use frequently and encourage others to try. Imagine going into a stressful situation, an interview for example; walk through the door, friendly handshake, introductions gone well, half way through the first question, BLOCK. No sound. Embarrassed interviewers. Red faces, yours and theirs. You get the word out, will I block again? Will I stammer? Oh please get me out of here. It feels like a total failure, even though it probably isn’t. Your mind is going through all the usual worst case scenarios.

Now, try this for size. Walk through the door, friendly handshake, introductions gone well. “Before we start I would just like to say, I occasionally stammer. It’s not a problem for me and I trust it won’t be for you.” Now you are in control, you have wowed them, you have a USP. If you do block or stammer, it’s not a surprise, there will be no embarrassment, your stress levels are normal for an interview, and you’re likely to be more fluent as a result.

Early self disclosure works in many situations; with new people, those dreaded round the table introductions at meetings and even presentations and speeches. Whatever the occasion, it puts those of us who stammer in control of our speech, something we crave but may rarely experience.

So why is it then that I, someone who has lots of experience and success using this technique, finds it so difficult to talk about my stammer with my family, friends and colleagues? They already know I stammer, a fact I have never wanted or been able to hide, so self disclosure with them would be something slightly different. I know I would not suffer prejudice or ridicule, these are my friends after all, and rightly or wrongly I do crack a joke about stammering, so they know I am in a comfortable place with my speech.

Is it because I would have to speak more about feelings rather than the mechanics of speech? Is it because I would be revealing a more vulnerable side to my character they may not have seen, wish to see or I may wish to reveal? Is it because I don’t like talking about me me me? Am I, as usual, over-thinking the whole situation and should I just get on and talk to them about how stammering has and continues to shape me into the person I am?

These are questions I do not yet have answers to, but writing this has motivated me to move my self disclosure onto the next level, more personal, closer to home. I have always been sceptical of ‘awareness days’, there is a risk those not directly affected will be jolted for 1/365th of a year, then move on to the next cause. Don’t get me wrong, I fully support ISAD and the freedom it gives stammerers to speak out, often for the first time, and long may it continue. As with every British Stammering Association Conference I have attended, we must, must ride the wave of positivity and ‘can do’ generated and continue the work started on that day or weekend.

For me, that means talking to my friends, workmates and anyone else who knows me (sounds like I am on the radio!) about stammering, educating them and doing my bit towards a society that accepts dis-fluency and not expects fluency.

When I was a child I used to enjoy spending time on the beach flying kites; brightly coloured, bold symbols of fun and freedom, only just under control but high in the sky for all around to see. I will be flying the kite for stammering from now on, when will you be flying yours?

paul-roberts-photo

 

Paul Roberts

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

 

 

 

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

 

Putting the Relationship in Supervision

images-9Supervision. The word invokes many different thoughts for me. The many supervisors I have had, and the many people I have supervised. And the formality of the word. I got a bit stuck when trying to move past this, so I read through multiple blog posts about having one’s communication shaped, ‘therapyed’ or embraced. These posts brought to my mind the way that we as Speech and Language Therapists (SLTs) advocate for all of this communication, in whatever form is successful or possible for each individual, yet when it comes to shaping my own supervision, the same rules just don’t apply. I turn up to therapy sessions with clients. But at times, have found it hard to access my own unique communication space (which will help in those therapy sessions I turn up to), why is that? We want our accountants to be au fait with current tax law, our mechanics to put the right parts in our car, yet for some reason there are times when we turn up to sessions not having invested in our knowledge space, which is essential to providing therapy. Why do we not seek it out if we don’t have what we need or want?

Reasons I have not accessed supervision include that I have worked outside of the NHS and just haven’t got round to getting any, I have had managers who haven’t seen its benefits (I have also had managers who have ‘over-supervised’!), and I have had supervisors where their style of supervision is just not my cup of tea. There have also been times when I’ve not been linked into a neat network of Speech and Language Therapists. At times I have craved this ‘simple’ structure of one senior SLT supervises me, and then I supervise an SLT below me. But currently that isn’t an option available to me. I am an overseas trained SLT, who has spent some time as a permanent staff member in the NHS, a wee stint working privately and am currently working as a locum in the NHS. My life is soon changing as I am looking to return home.

Right now, I am lucky, especially as a locum. I have regular supervision. I also give regular supervision. I have a clinical team leader (CTL) who is not an SLT, but who always has an open ear, and filing cabinet full of ideas, especially around complex issues such as safeguarding and setting up a service. But, we have both wondered on occasion, if she was an SLT, would we come up with the answer to a curly clinical quandary more quickly?

I also have, until recently, received private supervision from an SLT. On writing this I reflected about what brought me to private supervision, and it struck me that I was looking for that ‘simple’ hierarchical structure that I mentioned above. However, what came out was something different. I had the freedom to discuss anything as my supervisor was able to look at my thoughts and issues through a different lens, removed from the need to be managerial. Someone who was intrigued to help me find the balance in relationships, who did not have a stake in the outcome and, therefore, was able to challenge me in order to help me create boundaries within my work. In her removed position, she was able to help me understand what areas to drive forward clinically. However, this separation from my day-to-day work existence, meant at times I would need to go back to my CTL to float the ideas discussed.

It took me a while to access private clinical supervision. I would often go to my sessions with the anxiety that one has when the ‘to do’ list takes up three sides of paper. But when I would leave it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders – the exact same feeling that I have when I meet with my CTL. Although both of my supervisors are interested in serving the same purpose – making sure I don’t burn out – they come at it from differing perspectives.

The biggest thing I will be taking from my recent supervision experience is that it is all about relationships. The relationship with the supervisor and myself, but mostly the content of discussion is how I am relating to others. I have sated my need for the neat little SLT supervision structure. It is not a necessity to be supervised by your own discipline or receive clinical support from your own workplace. A perfectly excellent job can be achieved outside of these arrangements, as long as your supervisor knows what kinds of questions to ask, and is humble enough to say “Hmmm, is this what that looks like? If not, tell me more…” I can feel myself now asking similar-structured questions to the Occupational Therapists and Physiotherapists, who ask me how they should manage a particular situation. I pride myself on my ability to relate to my colleagues, clients and wider community as an SLT, but I need to leave my guilt at the supervision door because if I am not showing up to my own unique communication space then the relationships in my work just won’t work.

Anna Childs (nee Wivell)

Totally OK to Stammer at Work (2/2)

Iain smile photoMartyn: “Do you ever read poetry?”

Me : “No. Of course not.”

Martyn: “You might try it sometime. David Whyte1, something like that.”

It had been just a short conversation but, as usual, his intuition was spot on.

I’d been discussing with Martyn Brown, my Executive Coach at Ashridge2, my progress towards becoming more of myself at work, including being more open about my stammer.

But poetry, that was a weird one. I was curious.

Fast forward 5 years and here I am gratefully responding to an invitation from intandem to write about how poetry has helped me to forge a much healthier relationship with my stammer. In last month’s blog post I wrote how the Employers Stammering Network3 is aiming to make it “Totally OK to stammer at work”, whereas this article is shaped more towards my own personal journey.

Over recent years, I’ve used my experience of many years in business to confront a series of questions that I wish I’d known the answers to at the start of my career.

And nowadays, I wonder what advice I’d offer to my younger self if he asked me these questions – and, to help his imagination, what lines of poetry might I even share with him? Here’s how our Q&A session might sound:

Q 1 How much will my stammer restrict my career?

A 1: It may surprise you, because you feel so ashamed when sometimes you can’t even say your own name, but the answer rests almost entirely within your own control. Your stammer can dominate your career or it can be almost completely irrelevant. Truly!

For me the big realisation was that it was within my gift to choose how I saw myself with a stammer – either as someone who’s shame and self-oppression for having a stammer would continue all my life – or as someone who could accept over time that it’s “totally OK for me to stammer – even at work”.

That’s so easy to write, yet it took me years to get here. And one of the steps helping along the way was learning that by living more choice-fully in relation to my stammer, I could influence for better or worse the outcomes for my own career. This point about consciously making difficult choices lies at the heart of the closing lines of Robert Frost’s ‘The Road Not Taken’:

 

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN (Extract)4

Robert Frost

 

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –

I took the one less travelled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

 

Q 2 : How will I ever become more comfortable with speaking in public?

A 2: For people who stammer, speaking in public is often a step too far – and we avoid it at all costs.

Throughout my career, my relationship with speaking up has been erratic to say the least! My progress has come from taking calculated risks, some successful and others not – but doing it in my own way for better or worse. Stubborn, you might call it. I prefer to call it courageous!

It’s not been easy at all – but it’s definitely been worth it.

This sometimes unbearably difficult path of making changes in mid-life is a core theme of some of David Whyte’s work, and it’s almost as if ‘Start Close In’ was written with the courageous step of speaking up in public for the first time in mind .

 

START CLOSE IN (Extract)5

David Whyte

 

“Start Close in

Don’t take the second step

or the third

start with the first

thing,

close in,

the step

you don’t want to take.

 

Start with

the ground

you know,

the pale ground

beneath your feet

your own

way of starting

the conversation.”

 

Q3: How can I cope when I’m having a bad day with my stammer?

A 3: Some days are just difficult stammering days. You’re tired, nervous or slightly out of sorts – that’s life.

And yes, there’s still pressure not to stammer at work and, even though I’ve learnt to rise above it, it can still feel bruising when it’s been a tough stammering day.

Learning self-acceptance, resilience and perspective has been crucial to coping with those days. Like Derek Walcott’s raw realisation in “Love after Love”, it’s meant looking in the mirror and accepting myself. Accepting that my stammer has always been part of me – and not to try to make it a stranger.

 

LOVE AFTER LOVE (Extract)6

Derek Walcott

 

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was yourself.”

 

Q4: Where can I find advice, support and kindred spirits?

A4: Nowadays there is so much support and friendship out here for people who stammer.

Firstly, I’d point towards the British Stammering Association7 (“BSA”) the national charity for people in the UK who stammer.

And secondly to our Employers Stammering Network, an arm of the BSA, where our goal is simply to make it “Totally OK to Stammer at Work”. Don’t worry, we never discuss poetry, that’s just me!

Both the BSA and ESN offer a spirit of welcome – from people who stammer – that’s warm and genuine. Just visit the BSA Closed Facebook group to get a feel for it.

Which brings me to my final poem, from David Whyte’s recent collection ‘Pilgrim’, which develops the theme of arriving amongst strangers who themselves have walked a similar, searching journey.

 

CAMINO (Extract)8

David Whyte

 

“…….other people

seemed to know you even before you gave up

being a shadow on the road and came into the light,

even before you sat down with them,

broke bread and drank wine,

wiped the wind-tears from your eyes:

pilgrim they called you again. Pilgrim.”

 

Before ending, I have an invitation for you.

Please start a conversation with someone about how it’s “Totally OK to Stammer at Work”. You might choose a friend, a colleague, perhaps your boss.

Every conversation is an important step forward in improving workplace culture towards stammering – and if you’re stuck for how to start, you will surely find inspiration in the opening lines of ‘Start Close In’ above…….

I’m keen to hear how you get on!

poetry wordle

Iain Wilkie

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.

 

References

1. David Whyte – Poet, author, lecturer. www.davidwhyte.com

2. Martyn Brown – Business Director, Organisational and Executive Development, Ashridge Business School, and Ashridge Programme Leader for EY.

3. Employers Stammering Network is operated by the British Stammering Association (see 6 below). For further information contact please email either iwilkie@uk.ey.com or Norbert Lieckfeldt at esn@stammering.org or mail@esn.org.uk

4. “The poetry of Robert Frost”, ed Edward Connery Lathem (Jonathan Cape 1967), Random House Ltd, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London SW1V 2SA. “Staying Alive”, edited by Neil Astley, 2002, Bloodaxe Books Ltd, Highgreen, Torset, Northumberland, NE48 1RP.

5. David Whyte, “River Flow”, New & Selected poems 1984-2007. Many Rivers Press, P O Box 868, Langley, WA 98260, USA. www.davidwhyte.com © David Whyte.

6. Roger Housden 2003 “Ten poems to change your life”, Hodder & Stoughton, 338 Euston Road, London NW1 3BH, UK. Farrar, Straws and Giroux LLC, Collected Poems of Derek Walcott, 1996. © Derek Walcott.

7. British Stammering Association, 15 Old Ford Road, London E2 9PJ. For information contact www.stammering.org or 020 -8983 1003 or nl@stammering.org.

8. “Pilgrim – poems by David Whyte, 2012”. Many Rivers Press, P O Box 868, Langley, WA 98260, USA. www.davidwhyte.com. © David Whyte 2012.

Embracing vulnerability

Having recently been signposted to the photos and videos Steven Halliday has put together on the British Stammering Association Twitter page, I came across a fascinating speech by the actress, Emily Blunt at an American Institute for Stuttering Gala Dinner in 2009. (Listen here)

Emily Blunt

 

 

 

 

My initial response was one of surprise that this event had completely passed me by. Blunt’s speech is engaging and her openness and honesty about her personal experience of stammering is deeply moving. It is also encouraging to see such a glamorous celebrity coming out about stammering in this way and subverting traditional stereotypes of communication disability.

What has stayed with me, however, was Blunt’s willingness to be so transparently vulnerable in such a public forum. Her capacity to speak from this place of authenticity was like a tuning fork that touched in and resonated with something deeply human. Beyond words. An act of true courage.

Perhaps it also resonated because the struggle to be with vulnerability is a recurrent theme in my client work just now. It is intriguing how often we are untrusting of our feelings of vulnerability, how we automatically strive to keep them under wraps; by either trying to tidy the mess into a more acceptable form or to hide it shamefully from view. How very tragic then to learn how costly this natural tendency towards control and concealment actually is.

Brene Brown

 

 

 

 

In her inspiring TEDX talk, entitled “The power of vulnerability” (listen here), Brene Brown claims that embracing vulnerability is not only key to true connection with both ourselves and others, but is a necessity. As uncomfortable and unsettling as it might be, she describes the essential human experience of vulnerability as being the birthplace of joy, gratitude, personal growth and authenticity.

This led me to reflect on the many paradoxes involved in being human, on just how much each of us needs to let go of in order to truly be ourselves… in all of our beautiful inconsistency and imperfection.

Sam