About the Author: Joeri van Ormondt, MSc, SLT, CESS-certified stuttering specialist from The Netherlands, owns private practice De Stotterpraktijk, specialised in stuttering and cluttering. He is a person who stutters. He co-founded Stotterconnect, an organization dedicated to Camp Dream. Speak. Live. and the training of SLT’s.

The last few years I have been scared. Scared to open up about stuttering. Scared to say something about my own journey with stuttering. But only in a specific situation: among fellow SLT stuttering specialists. With all of them? No, absolutely not, there are shades to this. This summer, I found out—in two acts—what makes the difference for me; and how people who stutter would benefit from a change in our profession.

Act 1

I was asked to take part in a panel discussion at an international conference for SLTs to talk about my personal journey with stuttering. The conference was nice, well organized, and had different perspectives represented. Yet the question triggered so many thoughts and emotions. As is so often the case with stuttering, it was because of my lived experience. In the past, I’ve had colleagues say (out of nowhere) to me: “realise that not everybody stutters the way you do”, “your journey is different from other people’s journeys”, “because you stutter you are biased”, and “you have too much personal involvement”. If they had observed me conducting therapy and afterwards told me that, that would be one thing, but they told me this based solely on the fact that I stutter. And that is stigma. Stigma within some parts of the professional field, where at the same time we are trying to help people who stutter get rid of stigma.

The stigma became self-stigma. Telling an audience of professionals about my journey, I figured, would give them something to come back at me over what I advocate for regarding therapy preferences and stuttering pride. The question is: is there actually (self-)stigma or am I oversensitive? I remembered a story from an SLT who has a child who stutters and gets the same reactions. At the same conference Mandy Rodstrum, an SLT who stutters, gave her keynote about roughly this topic. So that’s two other experiences. To be sure, I reached out to some other SLTs who stutter. Some told me they had not experienced this to the same extent. However, quite a few comparable stories came in: being warned that their experience does not apply to everybody. Or that it is easy for them to talk about acceptance, because they are perceived as not stuttering very much. Some colleagues feel like they have to be very careful about how they talk about their own experience with stuttering in professional settings. Some just avoid it. In journalism, when three sources point in the same direction, there is a story to be told. Reaching out already gave me way more than three indications that it does not always feel safe to be your full self.

Act 2

Fast forward to the second conference I attended this summer, Stammafest. Being there made me realize, “Hey, had the panel been here, I’d feel different.” I even tested it during the Open Mic. What’s the difference? Although Stammafest is focused on people who stutter, there are also lots of SLTs there. Both conferences are open to a broad spectrum of views. “Stammafest is all about connecting with your ‘tribe’,” says the booklet. During the conference I met several SLTs; they all told me: “I’m looking for ways to improve my approach to therapy. I’m here to learn.” And of course, that’s it! The SLTs came to learn from people who stutter. They not only want to hear from clients who come to them because they experience difficulties or negative impact, but also actively seek out people who are in a good place with their stuttering. Some colleagues might have the impression that it’s only people who embrace stuttering pride. But it’s not. The full spectrum of opinions is present.

Being there makes me wonder: where would an SLT, whether new or experienced, learn more? An environment built around lived experience, or, like some stuttering therapy courses, an environment shaped by top-down theory and recommendations for assessment and therapy?

Scared

I am not scared anymore, thanks to those strong voices. Seeing Mandy’s strong keynote, attending Stammafest, and reading a colleague describe how they feel they have to walk on eggshells in professional settings while still sharing their personal stories, made a difference. I have heard about SLTs who stutter leaving the field, and that’s such a waste. Let’s speak up more, and create that snowball effect for other SLTs who stutter and want to speak up too.

This is a call-out to all SLTs, whether they stutter or not. Reflect on whether you are on an island: Have your views on stuttering changed in the last 10–15 years? Do you regularly talk to people who are in a good place with their stuttering and/or do you attend community-driven* events? Do you consider concepts like little-t trauma, micro-aggression and ableism relevant to stuttering therapy? Have you participated in workshops on aspects of stuttering you are less familiar with, such as identity, stigma, representation, neurodiversity-affirming therapy, intersectionality, pride, or privilege? Do you believe that stuttering can genuinely add something positive to a person’s life? Has your therapy, teaching, or research changed substantially in the last 10–15 years?

Paradigm shift

If you answered “no” to several of those reflection questions, help change the field for the better. There really is a paradigm shift happening that you might be missing out on. “Change how?” you might wonder. I think therapy, teaching and research (and the people working in these fields) as a whole should be heading towards a strong, ongoing, and ever-evolving collaboration with the community: with people who stutter. Two decades ago, therapy was mostly professional-led, with little connection to the lived experiences of people who stutter. Some now argue that the community should take the lead entirely, making SLTs obsolete. I believe the way forward lies somewhere in between: a genuine and equal collaboration between professionals and the stuttering community, where lived experience is truly incorporated into therapy, teaching and research.

Become a true ally. Let go of the myth that stuttering and other ways of talking orbit around fluency. Go to a community-driven event. Just reach out.

*Examples: Stammafest, Stamily Youth Exchange, Friends, NSA-events, etc.

Many thanks to colleagues that shared their story, and to the people who proofread the draft: Anne Bakker, Femke de Smit and Mandy Rodstrom.

The framing of being “scared”, as well as the “orbit around fluency” metaphor, was inspired by Anne Hathaway’s speech at the 2018 HRC National Dinner.

• ChatGPT was used for spelling and grammar checks, since English is not my native language.