We Are Who We Pretend to Be, So Be Mindful of Who you Pretend to Be
As I often say, I named this venture “Digressions and Dysfluencies” because I expected to write more about my experience as someone who stutters, but that never really panned out because it’s just not enough of my day-to-day experience to write about. But it does come up occasionally, as it does today, which is nice because I’m sort of burned out on politics.
It’s on my mind today because the National Stuttering Association released this open letter earlier this week basically saying that however anyone decides to react to their stuttering is a valid choice. I’m sort of curious what the precipitating events were to release such a letter — I haven’t been to an NSA conference in a while, but I wonder if there was some kerfuffle at this year’s that warranted some sort of response.
It’s an interesting development, because when the NSA started as what was then known as the National Stuttering Project, speech pathologists originally weren’t even welcome at meetings because the whole idea was that stuttering wasn’t something to be “fixed.” That’s obviously changed over the years, to the extent that now there’s an entire speech pathologist component to the annual NSA conference.
In the comments section of the Facebook post announcing the open letter, there was an NSA member who thanked the NSA for realizing that there were many members of the NSA who weren’t so much on board with acceptance but rather sought to stutter as little as possible; and this particular member hoped that future conferences would cater to members who sought to [or celebrate those who] stutter as little as possible. And…I’m skeptical.
Now, I’m not a stuttering “purist” by any means. I’ve sought therapy as an adult, well past the age where I should “know better.” But I’m skeptical of anyone who seeks to minimize their stuttering because I’m skeptical of their intent. Stuttering acceptance is a matter of intent. It’s what we call “role congruence.” Which is to say, if you accept your identity as a person who stutters, and are willing to publicly present yourself as such, you will likely reduce the incidence of stuttering because the vast, vast majority of stuttering behaviors come from trying to avoid or otherwise suppress dysfluencies. But if you achieve fluency simply by avoiding or suppressing dysfluencies, that’s not “accepting” your identity as someone who stutters.
There’s a category among some in the stuttering community known as the “happy struggler,” which is someone who exhibits noticeable stuttering behaviors but doesn’t seek to change them because they’re supposedly accepting of their identity. Now, I’m of the opinion that there’s no such thing as a “happy struggler,” because it’s a contradiction in terms. If struggling comes from the attempt to avoid or suppress dysfluency, someone who is genuinely accepting of their stuttering isn’t going to struggle. Similarly, if a person speaks fluently by engaging in all manner of tricks and efforts to appear as a fluent speaker, they’re not genuinely accepting of their role as a person who stutters. Which is to say, if you go to the NSA conference and your entire goal is to stutter as little as possible, you’re in the wrong place.
The commenter noted that many in the stuttering community were put off by Joe Biden’s contention that he “overcame” his stuttering, and I guess I count myself among those people for a couple of reasons. First, I don’t care for the idea that “overcoming” stuttering necessitates speaking fluently. There are some of us whose neurological baseline simply doesn’t allow for sustained fluent speech, so if “overcoming” stuttering means minimal dysfluencies, we will never overcome it. But more importantly, Joe Biden’s contention that he had “overcome” his stuttering meant that when he showed stuttering — which he did, all the time — he couldn’t just say that he was experiencing stuttering. Because that would step on the “overcome” narrative. So instead, when he experienced dysfluencies — or, more accurately, when he went to great lengths to avoid dysfluencies — he would invite other explanations for his awkward speech, i.e., dementia. I still contend that “we finally beat Medicare,” the nonsensical phrase that ended Biden’s presidency, was the result of Biden desperately searching for a word, or phrase, that he could say fluently. And that’s just what came out, as sometimes happens when we’re stuck in a block with seemingly no way out of it. But since he’d spent, I dunno, decades as the guy who “overcame” stuttering, he couldn’t just chalk it up to stuttering behavior — so most everyone chalked it up to dementia instead. And it’s just as well I guess — if you choose to live by the “overcome” narrative, you choose to die by the “overcome” narrative. At a certain point, you have to advocate for yourself. It was apparently more important to Biden’s personal identity that he be the guy who “overcame” stuttering than be the guy who still stuttered sometimes, to the extent that he would rather immolate his entire legacy over it. We all make choices, I suppose.
It just seems to me that anyone who had truly “overcome” stuttering, or someone who merely accepted their identity as someone who stutters, wouldn’t go through such lengths to conceal it. Which brings me back to what got me started on this whole thing — it’s a matter of intent. If your relationship with stuttering is such that you seek to minimize it at the expense of your own communication, then you can’t credibly claim to “accept” it. That’s fluency-chasing. If that’s what you’re after, start your own support group. True acceptance is saying what you want to say, when you want to say it, in the manner you wish to say it. That’s really it. Anything else is quibbling.
Occasional Trivia
Answer from last time:
Category: Movie Monsters
Clue: Also known as the Gill-Man, he was played by Ben Chapman; with underwater scenes performed by Ricou Browning.
The Creature from the Black Lagoon
Today’s Clue:
Category: Musical Instruments
Clue: The amadinda, a type of this percussion instrument from Uganda, uses logs instead of wooden bars
Dispatches from the Homefront
My oldest turns six tomorrow, which is a hell of a thing. There’s that saying “the days are long, but the years are short,” and it’s a cliche for a reason. I’m reasonably certain that I could pass a polygraph while saying that we just brought her home from the hospital maybe three months ago. Time has no meaning anymore. One day she’s a wiggly potato that I’m afraid to handle too roughly, the next day she’s a first grader with hard opinions that wants me to toss her into the air until my arms give out. One of these days I’ll have to find a way to tell her I’ve been talking about her to strangers on the internet.