Tag Archives: Turning Points

Judged Response

One afternoon, whilst speaking to my closest friend Errin Yesilkaya, we wanted to do something. Just something. An exhibition sprung to mind, then I must have stammered shortly after this revelation. There we have it. Judged Response, an exhibition which places explicit focus on stammering, celebrating the differences of those people who stammer, demonstrating these differences and challenges through the medium of art, which has no boundaries, as you are not bound by what you can utter. The visual nature of the artistic medium allows for freedom of expression which people who stammer may struggle with otherwise. This was our idea and vision.

Errin and I brought Shahram Saadat on board as a person who stammers. After many meetings, we decided on our idea and proposed this to Arts SU, the Student Union of University of the Arts London where we all study BA (Hons) Photography at London College of Communication (LCC). We were successful in gaining an exhibition space at LCC, thus then our creation and curation of the exhibition began.

Our motivation for this stammering and art fusion was primarily the fact that stammering has not as such been greatly presented in an artistic context. This exhibition would be an accessible way for anyone, someone who stammers, someone who has knowledge of stammering, or ideally, no knowledge at all of the complexities of stammering to engage with the day-to-day struggle of speech. Ideally, this exhibition would be as public as possible, detached from the white space of the gallery and firmly placed within the public domain for maximum impact and a realisation from the public that stammering is a challenge and not something to be mimicked, laughed at or perceived as a weakness.

Audience and raising awareness was a key reason for us curating an exhibition of this nature. Stammering is something which is talked about, however, while it is talked about, it is not an easy subject to be public about due to the sensitivities of the subject matter, the differing views and effects it has on people who stammer, so any kind of public exposure of stammering has to be carefully, ethically thought through. Art, to some extent, has no limits, it is the artist’s personal perspective, not those of an organisation, so it has the potential to accurately represent (particularly if the artist stammers) the insecurities, strengths, niggles, that stammering brings up.

The three of us each exhibited a work of our own (I was the odd one out, presenting two), all communicating varying themes and aspects of the nature of stammering. Errin’s piece, £137.80, speaks for the way in which our consumerist culture may view people who identify themselves as having a disability are viewed within society. Shahram’s piece, Appropriated Reactions, focuses in on the facial expressions a person who stammers may experience when speaking with someone. My works, Subtitled Liberation and We Judge Because We Don’t Understand, through text in a physical and video sense, provides a liberating, anonymous, fluent opportunity for multiple people who stammer to express their true emotions about the struggle of having a stammer.

The Private View was extremely well attended by people who stammer, friends of those who stammer and people with no connection to stammering at all. Pertinent and important discussions were also held over an exciting, engaging Q&A session with the exhibitors plus Claire Norman, Founder of the Stammerers Through University Campaign (www.stuc-uk.org) and Tim Fell, Chair, British Stammering Association. Overwhelmingly, the most common phrase uttered to me during the night was ‘this is the start of something’ or similarly ‘you’re onto something’. Of which, I agreed with everyone who said this to me. This is the mission I’m on, to show the connection between stammering and art, through a number of mediums, to ultimately affect public opinion.

We are keen, as a collective, to develop a more ambitious exhibition, extending on the ideas raised in Judged Response, perhaps being more interactive and immersive. Watch this space.

 

Rory Sheridan

e) photo@rorysheridan.co.uk
w) www.rorysheridan.co.uk

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

 

 

Stammering Pride & Prejudice, City Lit, 3rd Nov 2016

I must admit I arrived with a little apprehension, this was the first time I had attended a public event related to stammering. I was aware that I was wearing two hats, as a person who stammers and a psychologist who has a special interest in working with PWS.

The opening remarks by Mark Malcomson were warm and welcoming, there was a real sense of excitement in the room around exploring this novel and perhaps controversial way of viewing stammering. As a psychologist I’ve tended to think about how a person relates to their stammer and the psychological processes that may or may not help in living well with a stammer. Whilst I have an appreciation that the social world we live in will influence this, I had never fully considered that stammering as a problem can be viewed as a socially-constructed phenomenon and so I really was intrigued to learn more about the social model of stammering.

The first talk was by Prof Michael Boyle who is looking at how one might go about reducing stigma around stuttering. This was an interesting look at the stereotypes around stuttering and how these are reinforced in the media. Michael is clearly doing some great work looking at ways to influence public attitudes to stammering. One of the things presented in his research was how people sometimes associate stammering with anxiety and there was the idea that this is a negative stereotype that should be refuted, with stammering presented as something separate to anxiety. I was interested to find that this evoked an emotional reaction in me. As a psychologist, I was struck by the parallels in how PWS are stigmatised in many similar ways to people with mental health difficulties. We are consistently given messages about how we ‘should’ be… whether it be happy, calm or confident. Anything other than these desirable mind states are ‘wrong’ and need to ‘fixed’ or controlled. Those of us who don’t easily fit this, again whether it be disfluency, anxiety, lack of confidence, I could go on… are given the idea, even as children, that we must change this. This can lead to a sense of shame around  normal human experiences and emotions and presents a narrow and limited view of what it is ‘ok’ to be like. My concern with some of the ideas alluded to in Michael’s talk around anxiety as separate to stammering is that we risk reinforcing negative stereotypes around mental health and potentially invalidating the experience of the many PWS (me included) for whom stammering AND anxiety are intimately interrelated aspects of ourselves. Ultimately PWS will have a diverse range of experiences and personalities, so as a community let’s celebrate this diversity.

Next up was a hard-hitting and thought-provoking talk by Katy Bailey. Katy talked about how negative attitudes toward stammering is akin to a person without legs being denied a wheelchair. How we are constantly given the message that to be different is wrong or bad. She recounted her personal experience to highlight how the way that stammering is approached, even within the world of stammering research and therapy, can reinforce this ‘damaged’ narrative. Internalisation of these narratives leads to an internal struggle to control stammering. For me, Katy hit the nail on the head here! Social and cultural norms will tell us it’s wrong or bad when we don’t fit the mould, when you couple this with our problem-solving brains that tell us we should be able to control our internal experiences in the way we can our external world, we end up with the makings of a lifelong, futile struggle to control what can’t easily be controlled. Moreover, this struggle ultimately comes at the cost of pursuing a rich, and meaningful life. PWS often sacrifice important personal values and goals in an attempt to control or hide this part of themselves. These sacrifices or costs will come in small packages, a latte when you wanted a cappuccino, and really big packages, giving up on the dream of a particular career or vocation. Katy highlighted the role of acceptance or letting go of the struggle as a meaningful way forward for her in living with and coming to find meaning in her stammer. As a therapist who teaches acceptance-based therapies (namely Acceptance and Commitment Therapy or ACT) and someone for whom working to let go of these struggles has been so liberating and empowering, Katy’s talk really resonated with me. Moreover, it highlights the need for more work clinically and research on the potential role for acceptance-based therapies (which are gaining momentum in the world of psychology) in working with PWS. Here the move is away from control and towards willingness to experience uncomfortable feelings, such as stammering, in order to move toward values life goals. This theme of self-acceptance was echoed later in discussions between Chris Constantino, Josh St Pierre and Dori Holte, and in Walter Scott’s talk about how his stammering was approached in school.

The rest of day saw talks by Iain Wilkie on the wonderful work he is doing with the Employers Stammering Network (ESN). Iain talked about how it’s to everyone’s benefit if people who stammer can feel more comfortable and able to be open about their stammer at work. Even more, people who stammer bring particular strengths and value to an organisation.

Other highlights included Sam Simpson and Rachel Everard talking about how speech therapy might inadvertently reinforce unhelpful social norms, and the need for PWS to develop a positive, empowering collective identity to be able to ‘live choicefully’. This echoed the conspiracy of silence Iain referred to earlier in the day. Sam and Rachel’s talks brought up the need to educate SLTs in this complex interplay between social, psychological and physical factors that affect how people live with a stammer.

Some light relief from the hard-hitting stuff was provided by Patrick Campbell, Ian Hickey and Nisar Bostan who entertained us with comedy and poetry. The day ended with a bang with Ian leading a reading from an excerpt from one of King George VI speeches. Anyone in the audience who was, as Ian beautifully put it , ‘lucky enough to stammer’ was invited to join in. Such a moving end to the day and truly put meaning to the idea of pride in stammering.

I’m so grateful I was able to be part of this day, I feel sure that these ideas are the start of something really important in changing and challenging how we conceptualise stammering both for PWS and crucially for the therapists working with them. Sam said it when she said PWS are best placed to challenge the status quo, from the inside AND I know therapists can play such a powerful role in empowering people to find the courage required to do this work. Let’s get to work!

 

Lorraine Maher-Edwards
Email: lorraine_maher@yahoo.co.uk
Twitter: @LorraineEdwar

 

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

Supervision keeps us awake!

I have been fortunate in my career to have some really excellent supervision, but all too often I hear from colleagues that the service they work in does not offer quality supervision. I regularly hear that for many it becomes a tick box managerial function, concentrating more on the doing of therapy rather than the being or becoming a therapist. Yes, we need to have time to check on whether we are using the right procedures, we need affirmation that we are abiding by the right policies, but this should not form the main focus of supervision sessions. I have found it helpful when supervising colleagues to devote some time in each session to the doing, i.e. the day-to-day activities of the job, but to ensure that there is enough time to talk about the being and becoming, i.e. to explore our emotional and psychological responses to our work and how the work is affecting us. Geller in Fourie (2011) rightly says that “attention to the affective and intersubjective aspects of clinical relationships has been neglected in speech-language pathology” (p. 197).

We encourage students at the Universities at Medway programme to use reflection from day 1 to explore their feelings about their experiences in becoming a therapist. We need time to explore our emotional responses and reflective writing offers a chance to do this. In professional contexts we could learn so much from colleagues in psychology about issues related to transference and countertransference. One particularly useful session I recall was where I was encouraged by an experienced supervisor to unpack the feelings that had been aroused by working with a family where there were bereavement issues, which in turn had awoken emotional responses in myself. This allowed me a safe space to reflect on my role with this family and to make me more aware of my own responses.

Nicky Weld’s book on transformative supervision for the helping professions has been very influential for me. She points to a fear of people having emotion-based conversations in supervision for fear of not being able to manage what comes forward. This lack of acknowledgement of our emotional responses can ultimately lead to a risk of burnout. In the context of ever-reducing funding, I would urge colleagues to ensure that quality supervision is provided and that time is made to attend to creating, through supervision, a safe, protected environment for learning, personal and professional development without which we will stop growing. Ryan (2004) says of supervision: “It wakes us up to what we are doing. When we are alive to what we are doing we wake up to what is, instead of falling asleep in the comfort stories of our clinical routines” (p.44). Let us stay awake and not fall asleep on the job by falling back into familiar routines. Supervision can help us unpack received wisdom.

photo-feb-2016

 

Jane Stokes
Senior Lecturer, Speech and Language Therapy
Faculty of Education and Health
University of Greenwich

 

 

 

 

See further reading:

Geller E. (2011) Using oneself as a vehicle for change in relational and reflective practice. in R. Fourie (ed) Therapeutic Process for Communication Disorders. Hove: Psychology Press, 9.195-212.

Ryan S. (2004) Vital Practice. Portland UK: Sea Change Publications

Weld N. (2012) A Practical Guide to Transformative Supervision for the Helping Professions; Amplifying Insight. London: Jessica Kingsley

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

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

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.

Insider accounts: Living with communication disability

As a student Speech and Language Therapist (SLT) nearing the end of your training, you begin to feel a bit like you might know a few things. After four years of placements and the range of experiences you have amassed through interaction with a variety of clients and their families, you start to think ‘Ok, I’m beginning to get the hang of this.’ Your tentative steps become surer as you get to grips with assessments and hypotheses and management plans and the wonderful array of devices in the SLT toolkit. But, as a fledgling clinician it is also important to sometimes silence the internal noise of ‘What does this test result mean?’, ‘Which therapy approach do I think is best?’, ‘How many intervention sessions should I give this client?’ And just listen.

In a lecture called ‘Insider accounts: Living with communication disability’, Cathy Sparkes and Sam Simpson provided us with this opportunity. They invited a group of their clients with a range of communication disabilities to come in and talk to all the final year student SLTs at UCL. With our assessor’s hats firmly off, we were able to sit back and listen to people’s lived experiences. All the speakers were very generous with their stories, sharing the painful, puzzling and even playful moments of coming to terms with their respective communication disabilities, both acquired and lifelong, and moving forward with their lives. Many accounts were the result of a number of years of experience and reflection, and it was partly this that made the session so unique for us.

As an SLT, you are generally involved for a very small snapshot of a client’s journey – a few months, maybe a year if you’re lucky. To borrow an analogy, you are ‘a stripe in the scarf of their story’ [1]. But this experience enabled us to more fully appreciate the stripes that come later on, when our input may have finished and our clients have had to renegotiate what it means to live in the world. Furthermore, the speakers were able to give us access to what some of our clients might be feeling now, as we’re meeting them in the early stages after a stroke or brain injury. For example, it may be easy for us to categorise our clients in the light of what they can outwardly communicate. However, the Comprehensive Aphasia Test does not allow us to measure the presence or otherwise of someone’s inner voice – you know, the one that narrates your thoughts and feelings – I had never before considered that loss of spoken language might also lead to inner silence, as so articulately described by one of our speakers.

It was a thought-provoking and at times, moving morning, and overwhelming feedback from the students was that we felt our practice would be changed as a result. The session reminded us to always dig deeper than what we might be presented with on the surface, step outside of our therapeutic comfort zones to provide flexible and individualised support to our clients, and of course, to listen.

Kat UCL Student - 1

 

Katherine Newton
Student Speech and Language Therapist, UCL

[1] McIntosh J., Charles N., Lyon B. & James K. (2011). The Strands of Speech and Language Therapy: Weaving a Therapy Plan for Neurorehabilitation. Milton Keynes: Speechmark