My last blog post was so intensely personal, and received such a hugely positive and emotional response from my readers that I realized I would be remiss if I didn't address the question everyone has been asking me;
How was your trip to Hollins?
Hmmm … where to begin?
I loved my time at Hollins, for so many different reasons. Looking back, I'm amazed that I was initially so conflicted about attending myself, but I was. My stutter, mild as it was, was such a deeply ingrained part of me, of my very sense of self, that I think I wondered just who I would be without it? Not to worry, that pesky stutter is never that far off … but I digress.
I learned a lot about the treatment of stuttering at Hollins, but also much about stuttering itself. (And here I thought I was an expert all these years!) Physiologic in nature, people who stutter are born with vocal cords that just don't function properly. Vocal cords are supposed to vibrate and touch each other gently upon vocalization, but the stutterer's vocal cords essentially bang together, even during long periods of fluency, like I had. Much like a Type 1 diabetic is born with a faulty pancreas, one that doesn't function properly, the person who stutters is born with an improperly working vocal apparatus. Speech is actually a terribly complex function, dependent on the cooperation and proper execution of many different muscle groups … simultaneously. No easy task if you were born with that particular genetic switch turned off. And there is a genetic component involved … although, to add to it's maddening mystery, not in all cases.
Located in Roanoke, VA, Hollins Communications Research Institute sits upon an elevated area in a city that is surrounded, on all sides, by mountains. Our daily view was spectacular. Sounds like hallowed ground? I certainly think so, but Hollins is actually world-renown. The military sends people there regularly, and several of Hollywood's elite are among it's alumni. (Unfortunately, no amount of begging would get the staff to divulge names.)
We were a group of nine, coming from all around the country, made up of predominantly college students, with a 3:6 female to male ratio The only children in the group were my son, and a 12 year old little beauty from the South. Our stutters varied in severity.
That first morning, as we sat in the lounge waiting for the program to begin, sizing each other up, no one spoke. Days later, when we all became more comfortable with one another, and actually started talking to each other, a few of the college guys divulged that they had my age pegged at 33, and initially had no idea my son and I were related. Needless to say, I have a deep and abiding love in my heart for them, notwithstanding that college boys are notoriously unobservant.
Our 12 days at Hollins were busy and very structured, beginning at 8:00 AM sharp, and ending at 5:00 PM, seven days a week, except Sundays, which went from 9:00 AM to 4:00 PM. By Sunday, Day 7, those extra 2 hours off felt like unbelievably decadent luxury. We were all exhausted, yet mindful that we were only half-way through.
The Hollins Fluency Program is based on muscle memory … replacing incorrect muscle movements with correct muscle movements. Repetition is key. Hours of it. Normally, anything this repetitive would drive me insane, but I was surprised at how difficult this was! We spent hour upon hour in our "cubicles," which were actually little rooms, about 6x6 feet, with full doors, a counter-top extending the width of the back wall, a computer and a chair. Here, we would vocalize different combinations of sounds over and over into a specially made microphone sensitive enough to detect banging vocal folds. So sensitive that a sneeze from the next cubicle could throw a perfect score off. (My neighbor had allergies. Yippee.) We worked in 20 minute increments, with a 10 minute mandatory break, retraining our muscles, learning to feel and distinguish what is a correct muscle movement as opposed to the incorrect muscle movements we'd been doing our entire lives. I was essentially learning to un-do 46 years of speaking a certain way. That this was physically and mentally challenging is a gross understatement. It was exhausting, yet also exhilarating. Conquering a demon you've been taunted by your entire life always is, I suppose.
Our group became very close. We really were so lucky to have such a fantastic group of people, all working together, yet individually, toward the same goal. And while I was easily old enough to have been everyone's mother, they never made me feel that I was anything other than one of them. On Day 6, we even all got the giggles together, erupting in laughter, which we all tried unsuccessfully to contain, at one silly, over-used line in our workbooks. I was inwardly horrified at myself that I giggled right along with them … surely I was old enough to know better! But I felt simply powerless to stop it … we all did. The staff took it in stride, up to a point, understanding the pressure we were under.
At the end of the 12 day program, every one of us was fluent. Although I wish I could wrap this post up with a fairy tale ending about living happily ever after in our new-found, hard-won fluency, this is real life we're talking about. Yes, we were all fluent, but our recently acquired skills are fragile, and very, very tenuous. It takes but a second of speaking using our "old speech habits," or our old muscle memory, for the stutter to come right back … and unfortunately it's as easy as slipping on a comfortable, old pair of shoes. The staff warned us of this, using the analogy that it would always be lurking right behind us, waiting to bite us in the ass, if we aren't aware 100% of the time. That made me think of Mad-Eye Moody, for all you Harry Potter fans out there, whose tag line became, "Constant vigilance!!" We, too, need to be constantly vigilant … of every breath we take, and every syllable we utter, for as long as it takes for the new muscle memory to kick in … permanently. We also need to practice, twice daily in these first months out of the program, and then once daily … probably forever. The stark reality is that for those who don't practice, there is a 100% fail rate.
Sound like a lot of work to maintain something so effortless for all you lucky, genetically-blessed fluent people out there? It is … it really, really is. But I prefer to look at it another way.
If you think about it, we have been given a tremendous gift. We have the opportunity to achieve something truly great … to defeat something so challenging, so insidiously difficult to truly conquer. The staff at Hollins, who I think we all came to love, reminded us on a daily basis that the muscle memory we hope to attain is no different than that of an Olympic athlete. So, when you're watching the Olympic trials and Games this summer … think of all the hours, actually years, of practice, sweat, toil and dedication the athletes went through to achieve their dream. Then, think of us, for we're at the very beginning of our journey … putting in the same dedication, blood, sweat and tears to achieve our dreams … of speaking as effortlessly as you.
So, if you happen to speak with me, and you hear me stumble slightly, then go back and "re-correct" the incorrect muscle movement, please keep in mind that I'm just a novice. It doesn't mean the program didn't work, just that I'm working out the initial kinks. We all are. But, bonded as we now are, we will help one another across the finish line, cheering each other on, there to support one another and practice over the phone together, and hopefully one day pass the torch along to future classes at Hollins, with the skill and muscle memory of an Olympic athlete.
I learned patience, perseverance and dedication. Now I really know myself, and I know my voice. It's a voice of pain and victory. ~~ Anthony Hamilton
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