I had a chance last week to travel around the Kingdom a bit. I took my 8-year-old son.
When we got out of the airport in Medina, I needed to get us a taxi to the hotel. I knew what I wanted to pay, and the first cabbie quoted me a price that was way too high. I waved him off. I strode out to another few taxis and asked their price. Too high again. I said no. I started to walk off. He lowered. I said no again. We eventually agreed on a price (that was still too high, but whatever). I was just happy that I bargained a little bit and saved $13. I hate bargaining, and I’m usually the kind of person who just settles for whatever someone says. But I was feeling a lot more confident, and I had options, and I wanted to show my son how things are done.
I was staying with family at the hotel, so I didn’t have to check in. And when my son got hungry (and he’s particular about his food) family ordered room service, not me.
I stuttered off and on with my family members who I hadn’t seen in a while. Streaks of fluency punctuated by long agonizing moments of silence or a consonant being dragged out. I had a lot of catching up to do, and most of the stories I hadn’t told anybody else. So I was feeling my way around their adjectives, trying not to avoid.
I suppose I should mention the “standard” stuttering at the Starbucks at the Riyadh airport as well as on “diet coke” in the airplane. Some things I can always count on. But I didn’t go uncaffeinated!
Again with my son, and again with ordering food — we were at the food court, and he wanted a chicken sandwich at Burger King. I was tasked with getting some Pizza Hut. I didn’t want to (try) to say “crispy chicken.” So I told my son, look, here’s the money, order what you want (cleared it with me first) and I’m going to go order the pizza so we can get back to the room faster. We ended up doing that twice.
Yes, I avoided. But see, it’s complicated, right? I mean, he’s 8, and he’s gotta learn this stuff. How to order what he wants, how to deal with some money, and how to stand in line and collect the same food with a receipt. Right? Right? Lessons on growing up disguised as avoidance techniques. I guess covert behavior can be enabled by children.
Flying back home, I got into a conversation with a stranger while standing idly at a phone charging stand. He just began asking things, where we were going, where we were from. And it wasn’t too bad talking. Just an easy, slow-paced conversation without too much stress. And it annoyed me only because it made me wonder how many other casual conversations (you never know who you’re going to meet!) I’ve avoided because of stuttering.
A sporting view of Stuttering
I was watching soccer last night (no, I’m not going to call it football) and inevitably the commentators will focus on a single play (or less than a half dozen) and say the game came down to those plays, those decisions.
Did it really? Isn’t it the sum of the parts?
I understand what they’re doing — they tell us about what made the most noise, what seemed to have the most influence. The penalty in the box, the no-call that everybody but the ref saw. And for days afterward (if it’s a championship game) we’ll all talk about those same few plays.
With stuttering it tends to be the same. Our game is the entire conversation, but we usually only focus on our one big block, our one huge moment that a word just wouldn’t come out. We were having a half-decent speaking day, and then a miserable moment put us down.
But speaking shouldn’t be like that. It should be the sum of the parts. Do some players have a bad day? Yeah, ok. Every time they’re on the field they screw something up. But even with professionals, they occasionally make mistakes. Then what? The best players don’t let it bother them. They move on to the next minute, the next series, the next half of play.
We need to do the same.
Share this:
Like this: