This King's Speech – Part 1

During my wedding, some of my older family members were surprised to learn that I was a teacher. It wasn't because I was a music teacher. They all knew I was a musician from a young age. That part wasn't a surprise.  They didn't expect me to be a teacher because of my speech impediment.

How could a young boy who very few people could understand grow up to do a job which required him to talk?

In the past thirteen years, I've shared, unpacked, and processed almost every part of my life, from my feeling about masculinity, diversity, race, and puppies. I've talked about my high school day, college days, and life as a teacher. I laid my insecurities bare about being a parent and an American citizen.  However, I've never written about or hinted at a part of my life, a part of my identity that shaped my childhood and impacts my life every day.

I haven't embraced having a speech impediment as part of my journey and my identity. I'm not ashamed of it, but I don't have pride when I think about how I've dealt with this part of my life. I don't think about it most of the day, but there's not a day that I don't. Earlier today, I said a word, and Diana, my wife, said, "what?" hinting at me that she didn't understand what I said. I tried again, it still wasn't clear, so I chose a different word. There was nothing mean in Diana's tone, and I appreciate that she wanted to understand me.  I wanted to be understood, but that word, starting with an "r," I couldn't say clearly at that moment.

When I write speeches, I often edit them when I practice them out loud. My written vocabulary is different than my spoken words. For example, if I were to speak the previous two sentences, I would change them to:

When I compose speeches that I have to give, I often edit them when I say them out loud. This is because the vocabulary I use when I type is different from what I use when I speak.

I do this without thinking for the most part when I talk. After years of trial and error, I have figured out which words I stumble over, which words cause people to ask "what?" and which words have led people to imitate me and mock me. These words I unconsciously avoid as an adult. For the most part, people don't notice because I am gifted with a quick mind, and I have a lot of practice making it through the mine field, spoken language.

Some of this is more in my head. My pronunciation of words is not as bad as I believe it to be, but the negative experiences of childhood cast a shadow that will never entirely go away. I will never fully be free of the doubt I have in my ability to speak.

The thing is that I love public speaking. I have spoken at funerals and weddings. I have given presentations in graduate school and at conferences. I've used the power of my spoken word to persuade and inspire. I've given numerous speeches in front of my school community, often with over nine hundred people. I love speaking to my students and taking them on a journey through my words to other worlds and towards a deeper understanding of themselves.

It didn't always feel this way. I hated the idea of talking in school as a young child, but I always felt comfortable talking to my parents...