For stutterers speaking is not just a devastating physical handicap but a crippling psychological problem. Now gaining popularity is a radical and controversial notion: that stutterers are better off learning to accept their impediment rather than striving to overcome it.
Head bobbing, face grimacing, Vicki Schutter stood before a
microphone in a Cleveland hotel and let everyone in on a childhood
secret: often, when she came home from school deeply discouraged, her
mother fled to the bathroom in tears and prayed that her daughter would
someday "get better." Now the 46-year-old secretary from Houston, Texas,
introduced her parent from the stage and declared proudly: "Mother, your
prayers were answered."
Many people would find that hard to believe. From the time she was
3 years old, Schutter has stuttered severely -- and she still does so
today. Giving her impromptu speech, she struggled through every sentence,
opening her mouth unnaturally wide and clamping it shut in the effort to
get out her words. But to her audience, members of the National
Stuttering Project meeting at their annual convention, Schutter was a
triumphant example of the organization's philosophy: that a stutterer's
goal should not be achieving fluency, which is nearly impossible, but
rather acquiring the coping skills that allow one to stammer openly and
to shed the shame and embarrassment that accompany the speech
impediment.
In a society where oral fluency is considered a mandatory life
skill, such a radical notion strikes many as heresy. And, in fact, the
vast majority of people who stutter remain committed to overcoming their
problem. Many speech-disorder experts, too, find it difficult to fathom
how anyone would willingly go through life wrestling with their words. "I
wonder if those people who feel there is no need for professional help or
a cure one day have the same feeling about any other disease -- cancer, for
example," says Ehud Yairi, a professor of speech and hearing
science at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. "Would they
say, 'Let's just learn to live with it?'"
In many cases, the answer is "Yes." Self-acceptance is a growing
movement these days. From the deaf to the obese, people with physical
differences are asserting themselves in new ways, challenging the
conventional wisdom that they have defects requiring correction and
sympathy "It's like everybody's saying, 'If you don't like me, fuck
you,'" says Lowell Handler, whose book and film Twitch and Shout chronicle the lives of people with Tourette's syndrome, including
himself. "For so many years, what happened was the opposite -- everybody
had to fit the mold of the Midwestern, all-American,
go-to-work-at-9-and-come-back-at-6-type person. People are finally
saying, 'This is the way I am. I don't want to fix myself to suit
everybody else.'"
Stutterers who subscribe to the idea of self-acceptance, as well as
speech pathologists who have aligned themselves with the movement, point
out that unlike cancer, which is a deadly yet treatable and often curable
disease, stuttering is a physical impediment for which little can be
done. In fact, fluency remains a pipe dream for most stutterers, despite
all the touted remedies. "When I think of successful outcomes, I don't
even think of words like 'stutter' or 'fluent,'" says Stephen Hood, a professor of speech pathology and audiology at the University of
South Alabama. "I think of being a good communicator -- someone who can talk
to anyone at anytime, with minimal negative emotion."
Stuttering afflicts about 2 million adult Americans, and
four-fifths of them are men. It also tends to run in families, which
suggests a genetic link. The incidence is higher in children, though most
seem to recover spontaneously for reasons scientists don't understand.
For some, stuttering means an intense and visible struggle to force
individual syllables through their lips, a phenomenon that is physically
exhausting for the speaker and mentally awkward for the listener. Others
stutter mildly, occasionally getting stuck or tripping on sounds. Some
manage to avoid outward symptoms by substituting words and feigning
ignorance. "They can be so good at avoidance that their coworkers
and even their spouses or family don't know that the person stutters,"
writes Thomas David Kehoe, author of Stuttering: Science, Therapy &
Practice. "Even though their speech sounds fine, these
'covert' stutterers can be crippled by severe psychological fear and
anxiety."
Accompanying the speech problems are often a whole host of
"secondary" behaviors that the stutterer has developed as gimmicks to
force out the words. Ward Harkavy, a 51-year-old newspaper editor in
Denver, recalls that for years he shut his office door every time he had
to make a telephone call. "I had to pound on my leg to get the sound
out," he says. A secondary behavior might help temporarily, but
eventually it stops working; then the stutterer is stuck with one more
socially inappropriate symptom.
Though stuttering is believed to be primarily a physical
phenomenon, the stigma attached to it creates a whole array of
psychological problems. Every person who grows up with the impediment
knows what it's like to feel defective, to break a parent's heart, to
have trouble navigating the social milieu of the schoolyard.
Tags:
audience members,
coping skills,
heresy,
life skill,
mental illness,
old secretary,
psychological problem,
speech,
speech therapy,
stutter,
stuttering,
treatment