Courting Courage

I sit eating my dinner amongst a family that is whole, but yet so empty. I look across the room. Your wedding photo was taken from the frame and replaced with a new one. Your daughter, wife, brother, sister-in-law, brother-in-laws, and nieces and nephews are here – but you’re not. Sixteen years has passed since you were tragically killed in a car accident. It’s not what we lost. It’s what we never got to have. I ask my dad, “How do you do it?” He said, “I do it for my brother.” Through the horrendous circumstances of losing his brother just a few years after losing his father, my dad has remained optimistic, positive, and has always, always moved forward. We go on because we have to. Because there simply isn’t another option. Would you live differently if you knew loss was coming your way? It’s so easy to take for granted our lives – our family, our friends, our surroundings. We only begin to appreciate them when they are taken from us. How do we bring

One of the founders of our field, Charles Van Riper, once said, "Stuttering is everything you do trying not to stutter." What does this actually mean and what are the implications? There is a growing divide between SLP's who specialize in stuttering on whether we should change the way a person who stutters talks (fluency shaping) or accept the stuttering, but modify the way the person stutters (stuttering modification). Fluency shaping, specifically the prolonged speech approach, is frequently adopted by many school-based SLP’s. It has a large evidence base and is relatively straightforward for SLP's to implement without having an extensive knowledge base of stuttering. It makes sense - connect each syllable, word, and phrase together, so that it becomes physically impossible to stutter. Fluency - check. But take this technique into real life and it often fails. Why? Because the answer is not what we think the answer is. It’s actually quite counterintuitive.

Dear fearful 15 year old self, I wish you wouldn't worry so much. I know you can't see it now, but everything will be okay. I know, no one understands you. You feel alone and misunderstood. Look around, those guys who laugh now, the ones you think are bigger and stronger than you, in 10 years will be the ones looking up to you for your strength and confidence. Class presentations are your nightmare. But keep on listening to your fight song "Hero" by Mariah Carey, "When you feel like hope is gone, look inside you and be strong. And you'll finally see the truth, that a hero lies in you." Because in ten years, believe it or not, you'll speak in front of 800 people. In ten years, you'll be teaching a group of teenagers how to be brave. In ten years, you'll finally have the courage to just be yourself.  Fly birdie fly, now you are fearless.

It’s cliché among the stuttering self-help community to say that stuttering is a gift. Despite turning stuttering into a huge positive in my life, I never really considered it a gift. If it was a gift at all, it was an unwanted gift that I was forced to open and accept. A couple months ago, I attended a one day workshop sponsored by the New York City NSA chapters. Chris Constantino and Emma Alpern posed this question: Is our pride reflective of unsatisfactory therapy or is there something special about stuttering? Here’s what they said: Stuttering gives us access to experiences that are not available to fluent speakers. The vulnerability of stuttering allows for greater intimacy than fluent speech. It allows us to relate to people in unique ways . We have an increased likelihood of raw moments. These are the moments that separate the monotony of daily life. These moments add meaning and texture to our lives. We find excitement in the unpredictable. We have a richness of e

"Change occurs when one becomes what he is, not when he tries to become what he is not." -Arnold Beisser What if being pushed to change, every day, every hour, every minute is just unfair? What if we can’t change? What if we don’t want to change? Should we have to change a core part of us? Why do we change? Are we changing for ourselves or are we changing for society? These are questions that I have struggled to answer. This journey is mine. I’ve walked on unsteady ground. I’ve trudged through murky waters. Day in and day out, I’ve worked to survive the journey. And now I’m told to change the journey. Create a new path. A journey that is easier to trudge. A journey that looks more pleasant to the naked eye. A path paved over MY path that I’ve created. I fear that myself, my core identity, who I am as a person isn’t enough. I am X, but I need to be Y.  But why is Y valued over X? I am me and I’m not sure I want to change that. I occasionally block. I occ

It’s 1997. My mom is lying next to me in my bed singing me a sweet song inside the walls of a scary world. I revel in the lyrics. With hope and wonder she sings: “Someday we'll find it. The rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers, and me.” From: The Muppets, “The Rainbow Connection" I fall asleep with these words running through my head. I can't wait for the future. The moment when my dreams come true. 19 years later, I look over at my mom and cry out, “Everyone is getting engaged, getting married, having kids, and building beautiful houses. I’m still stuck building the foundation, brick by brick. I just want the house already.” We looked at each other. That’s it. Don’t rush to build the house. With a shaky foundation, no matter how beautiful the house, it will never be on solid ground. My parents gave me the land, but it was up to me to start building the house. And I did. I gave my all to school, to work, and to extra-curricular ac

As I sit here amongst the waves on the southeast coast of Mexico, I'm reminded of life. The ocean is a beautiful, vast, but scary and uncertain life. We lost sight of the beginning and we can't see the end. We're just somewhere in the middle, riding the waves. We become familiar with the rhythmic nature of each wave. We try to predict future waves as best we can. But sometimes, a wave comes unexpectedly, leaving us uncertain and scared. We start to lose hope. We are doing the best we can to fight the waves, but it's not enough. The wind picks up and the waves come - one after the other. Things are spiraling out of control. Our predictable ocean suddenly becomes terrifying. We lose control. It's a vicious cycle - fighting the waves, fighting the wind, fighting the current. The more we push, the harder it gets. We look for help. Sometimes we see a helping hand, reaching out to pull us away from the waves. Other times, we just have to ride the waves. Among the chaos, b