The King’s Speech and other musings on impediments
on March 11th, 2011I haven’t seen The King’s Speech. I’d like to. We don’t get movies out here, so I suppose I will see it whenever it comes on cable.
It’s a film about the King of England’s speech impediment and his relationship with his therapist, and it won all kinds of awards. It also precipitated a number of articles about the isolation caused by speech problems.
I had speech therapy for both a lisp and a stutter when I was in high school.
I knew I had a stutter, but I don’t recall anyone ever making a big deal about it. I trained myself to handle it fairly early on. Avoid W, mostly. It got worse when I got tired, and if I got tired, I just didn’t see any point in speaking anyway.
I had no idea I had a lisp until my parents were called to a conference. It was all very hush-hush. I sat outside the guidance counselor’s office in mortal terror, waiting to find out what the hell I had done wrong. My mom emerged from the office, her face twisted in disgust – not with me, of course, but with the school for creating mystery and drama where none was necessary.
“You’ve got to take speech therapy,” she said.
“That’s all? That’s the big secret?”
The school was afraid of hurting my tender feelings, so instead of simply telling me they felt I needed therapy, they kept me in the dark about the nature of the parent/counselor conference and subjected me to the public humiliation of having my parents summoned while I sat in the hall. I never felt a moment of embarrassment or isolation about my speech problem until the day the school made a scene about it.
Blissfully unaware that there was anything genuinely wrong with me, despite my handicap, I’d landed the lead in the school musical. I stood up in front of 1500 people and lisped away. This precipitated a number of complaints about my lousy diction. Not one of these people came to me. Instead, they went to the school and complained about me. I thought that was pretty dickish, but at least it prepared me for the internet.
The very nice lady to whom I was sent for therapy was a Mrs. Fiskus. After some time, I got my release from the ritual of practicing the S sound, which was dandy, since it was time for summer break, and now I could pronounce summer like a champ.
I didn’t go through anything like the trauma of many other people with speech problems. I had fun times with Mrs. Fiskus. I’d never heard my voice recorded before. When Mrs. Fiskus played it back to me over and over, the problem was clear, and fixing it seemed like a good thing to do. I recall my drama teacher saying “We think you are going to be somebody, so we just want to help you.”
I think I would have felt better about it if I had been directly addressed about the matter instead of having the school have a meeting and then do an end run to my parents, like I would fracture were I to be confronted with the objective reality of my difficulty with the letter W. I don’t know if this is the sort of thing schools just do as a matter of course or not.
I still lisp a little, and I still stutter a bit. But it doesn’t bother me much, and no one mentions it.
Here’s a nice article on the real teacher behind The King’s Speech.
It makes me wonder about Mrs. Fiskus, about whom I know very little.
Thank you, Mrs. Fiskus.
I developed a lisp and stutter after an accident on the school grounds. No one then thought it important that a child who never stuttered before started to stutter and was having problems with speech. After all, I was in immersion classes and was “doing fine.” It was subtle at first, but as I became an adult, it became more pronounced.
Stressed, anxious, tired, those all aggravate the stuttering. I simply inhale and try to continue my sentence. The worst part is when I can’t say a word. Hubby’s gotten used to saying it for me so that I can continue my sentence, but boy is it annoying.
I probably understand better than anyone else the problems you have with trying to be understood. You are not alone. There are stutterers everywhere to varying degrees as well.
I don’t think anything ever bugged me about having to pause and think to communicate half as much as people’s reactions to my inconveniencing them.
For God’s sake, it’s not like we’re doing it just to annoy.
Our speech impediments don’t hurt anyone, and don’t cost anyone else anything, so I don’t know why other people make an issue of it.
“The King’s Speech” is an excellent movie that I believe you will enjoy tremendously!
When I was in my early teens I met a guy at a social event who would end up being my best friend for the next 5 years. He had a very pronounced stutter and did not socialize much because of it. But my parents had taught me to not make fun of nor hold anyone in a less-than-kind regard simply because they were not like me. That extended to age, skin color, mental abilities, etc. And somehow along the way I had already learned not to show impatience or try to finish the sentences of someone who was stuttering. I was glad for all of that because it allowed me to enjoy the friendship of someone who was incredibly intelligent, humorous and full of personality. And he came to trust me enough to ask me to supply the word he was attempting when it was just us or a close circle of friends, without it being an embarrassment to him.
As you pointed out, his speech impediment didn’t hurt anyone or cost anyone else anything at all, so there was never a reason to make an issue of it except to be a dick. Unfortunately, the world is full of those kind of people.
Great post, thanks for sharing it.
“The King’s Speech” is a wonderful film – highly recommend checking it out when it comes out on DVD!
As someone with a speech impediment (“S”s are the bane of my existence), the film resonated with me. Very aggravating to have, especially as a child – after all, children are so “kind” to those who are different. On the other hand, it did have me expand my vocabulary so as to have “substitute words” when I found myself starting to lock-up.
@Colleen
I never noticed anything wrong with your speech. I always thought you spoke wonderfully.
On the other hand, whenever I speak, I feel like a frog has taken my place. I did take a speech class and it helped but I am still self conscious when I speak.
Thank you, that’s very kind of you.
James Earl Jones, who has one of the best voices ever, also had a severe stutter. With training, you learn to either get over it, or control it. I don’t consider stuttering a problem for me, and it’s rarely noticeable.
My lisp is obvious, if you’re listening for it. I gave up trying to even pronounce certain languages because my palate is too soft. German is a no-go.
Years ago, I met Mark Lenard, who played Spock’s father on Star Trek. He said to me, “You’ve studied acting.” I asked how he knew, and he said I had beautiful diction and tone. That made me very happy, because I was always a little self conscious about my speaking voice. To get a compliment from a man with such a rich, beautiful voice like Mark Lenard is as good as it gets.
And then I knew Mrs Fiscus had really done her job.
It’s one of the reasons I can tuck my southern accent away like it never existed.
Some years ago, I put my pipes to good use and read books for the blind on local radio.
To freak Jeff Smith out, I read his children’s book “Little Mouse” at a show in various voices, and we discussed maybe having me do an audio book. I’m not sure he was serious, but that would have been fun! I do great little kid’s voices, she wrote modestly.
Not only do you speak well, but you are well spoken.
I took speech therapy in grade school. No big deal, I think it gave the school nurse something to do. No real memory of it… I think the problem was R/W.
“We think you are going to be somebody, so we just want to help you.”
This should be the Fundamental Theory of Education.
Truth.
I briefly had a bit of speech therapy in grade school as beyond as well, and I vaguely recall not really being self-aware of my speaking style as being a problem until they pointed it out.
Anecdotally, there seem to be a lot of folks around my age who have similar stories of going through speech therapy. Makes me wonder if there was a concerted effort on the part of the education system to bring speech therapy to students. “No Child’s Speech Left Behind” or something like that…
I recall a weird initiative in the south to rid the locals of the impediment of an accent and local colloquialisms. I thought it was stupid.