Gift of Gab: Returned to Sender

All my life I’ve been afflicted by a not so debilitating stutter. In grade school, I’d often fear of being chosen to read aloud for the first time, until each year teachers would notice my speech impediment and to avoid embarrassment, choose not to pick on me to read. While I’m sure it was an act of mercy on their part, it would eventually help in casting me into a cold dark place of self doubt, self hatred, and a poisonous self image. I was soon picked out to go to speech classes that would pull me out of class in the middle of the lesson to the chagrin of my teachers. This was less than ideal as it:

A) Took me away from my class proper.

B) Painted a large target on me for being the “kid with speech class”.

The power of ones voice and how it can shape and define who you are can not be understated. As someone who has struggled with what many would perceive as a meek, passive voice that doesn’t carry a bassy authority and also one wracked by a slight stutter, I can affirm the notion of voice being such a significant factor in being taken seriously.

Inflection, and saliency can prove as a fine garnish, but without a firmness of pitch and tone and a steady cadence to one’s voice, the illusion of assuredness quickly falls. Because I stuttered when I was young, (and wracked by severe bouts of hiccups) it was engrained in me to speak less. Further, when I did speak and tried to play the charismatic charmer, it was usually overshadowed by someone who actually was a charismatic charmer. As the years went on, my lack of voice became an ever growing void that ended up putting me in a corner, letting everyone else talk over me, while I would sit back and listen. Now, there is something to be said for those who listen intently, and that is a skill and a good trait to have, I had taken it to the extreme. It had gotten to the point where I had built up mental barriers to not engage with anyone, seek out solitude, and reject any rational possibility that people would want to hear my opinion. It led to angry bitterness that I was not being given the same attention, and respect as others of my colleagues. What once started as “I have something to say”, turned morosely into “You wouldn’t want to hear what I have to say.” thus gloomily led into “Why won’t they want to hear what I have to say?”, which led ominously to “I hate that they won’t listen to what I have to say.”. You can see the downward spiral.

I’ve dabbled in adult speech classes such as the much lauded Toast Masters. The problem being that these are not voice coaches.. They don’t really have a vested interest in actually helping you improve your actual speech, and will generally smile and offer pleasantries if you become too close and friendly with the group. They offer cheers and “way to go’s!” over any real hard criticism of one’s speeches. I think they have their place, but for someone that has perhaps residual mental scarring from a lack of speech confidence, and impediment it’s a band-aid for a gunshot.

So what can you do?

What did I do?

Well quite frankly at 34 years of age, it’s something that I’ve had to come to deal with. The stutter to this day, comes and goes. When I’m consciously making an effort I can often choose words that I know won’t illicit a stutter, but it’s something that is not natural. It’s a guise that I’d have to put on, and it’s not sustainable. It’d have to be a mask I’d have to wear all day and at least for where I’m at now, it may be too late to try to slip into. Unfortunately the external view of my mannerisms and the passive personality I’ve exuded is already who I’ve become to most. So the classic “fake it, till you make it”, doesn’t really work for an audience that already knows you.

Likewise telling people “I’m going to be more confident now.” Isn’t exactly going to have them rushing to bring you into the top meetings with the senior staff.

What I’ve found and taken solace in has been what I’ve been doing for the last hour now. When your voice is not your best weapon of persuasion, or the gift of gab has been returned to sender, then a long second best is writing. The mighty pen has some power in it’s own domain. Of course with Journalism being in such a nebulous state currently, it’s not something I’d rely on for financial security... but to express yourself, to express myself, I like to think my written word can often get across the point and thesis of my topic. What I can’t articulate in words to persuade and entice, I like to think the curation of my words on type can fill in what my oft stumbling vocal chords can not.