Memoir Draft

Baked goodness with M&Ms sprinkled on top. That is what my 4-year old eyes were focused on the first day of my speech therapy. I had just been diagnosed with a communication disorder after a pesky ear infection during my language development had made me learn distorted versions of common words. My parents quickly enrolled me in a speech class after this diagnosis seeing as anyone over the age of six could barely understand what I was saying which frustrated both parties. My brother usually ended up being my translator, even when I was asking for simple things like juice or food. It was my first day of “class”, and already I knew what my goal was. Our teacher, Mrs. Bernard, had just explained that each of us would have a chart and that every time we learned something correctly, she would give us a sticker for that day. Our reward when the chart was completely full would be the monster cookie of our choice. At the time I didn’t realize that a completed chart signified the end of our time with her, otherwise I might have prolonged it a little bit because I really enjoyed it. However, I was determined that I would be the one who attained that M&M deliciousness. I always like to joke now that that cookie is the reason I was able to correct my speech in 9 months instead of the 2 years that the doctors had predicted.

For the next 40 weeks I attended my second “school” after my Pre-K class was let out. My grandfather would pick me up in his big blue and white construction van and shuttle me to the public elementary school that my class was held at (I attended St. Mary’s, the small private school down the street). We would spend a couple of hours learning the lesson for the day, and then my grandfather would drop me back off at Pre-K for after care where I would crawl onto my mat with my blankie and pillow and promptly fall asleep. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the only St. Mary’s Pre-Ker, as Bianca, whose “communication disorder” sounded more like a foreign accent, was in the class with me. We sat next to each other more for security than actual friendliness, seeing as even though our moms ended up being friends and we spent the next 10 years at school together, we never quite clicked in that area as she was the blonde-haired blue eyed princess type and I was the little tomboy with unruly curls and a constant line of dirt under my fingernails. Even though she was always more popular than I was at school, I like to think that I had the upper hand as she never was able to fully get rid of her speech impediment.

I don’t remember all the different lessons I was taught that cured me of my problem, but I do remember the woman who taught me. I recall Mrs. Bernard being quite tall. However, I was barely three and a half feet at the time, so even my mother, who is only 5’1”, was a giant to me. She had short, salt and pepper colored hair that never seemed to move, and I like to imagine that it was because she used at least half a can of Aqua Net hair spray every morning to tease and glue her hair into place. From her large, squarish, thick-rimmed glasses and satin floral-print button down blouse, to her earthy colored knee length skirts, unnaturally tan panty hose, and so-comfortable-that-there’s-no-room-for-being-cute oxford shoes, Mrs. Bernard just screamed ‘90s grade school teacher. Heck, she just screamed ‘90s in general. I don’t remember her being the smiliest of people, but in a way, that made doing well in the lesson even better, because you knew you did really well when you were rewarded with a large, genuine smile that conveyed the message that you were actually learning the lesson. I actually ran into her not long ago after being forced to give a speech in front of my church community begging them to donate money to the Catholic high school I attended. I was standing outside with a cheesy smile plastered on my face handing out donation envelopes when she walked up to me. I instantly recognized her as not much had changed except she had upgraded her look to the 21^st century and her hair was looking a bit softer and looser (probably because Aqua Net had basically stopped being sold after it’s ozone-deterioration effects had been discovered). She gave me a huge smile and asked me if I remembered her, with which I replied with a genuine smile of my own and a nod of the head. “Who would have thought you would go from a 4 year old who could barely be understood to an accomplished young lady that was speaking so clearly and understandably to a large audience?” she enthused. “Obviously not you” I almost snapped back, but realized she was just paying me a compliment in her own way. We talked for a bit longer before we went our separate ways, and it felt good to know that the woman who helped me so long ago finally got to put her stamp of approval on my successful speaking.

I never realized how profound and life changing that experience was until I hit college and the subject of my future career came up. I spent my first year as a Hospitality major until it was clear that that industry just wasn’t where I should be. As I researched new majors and took tests to find something compatible with my personality, the result of Speech Pathologist kept appearing and as I gained more knowledge of the career, I realized how much it coincided with my life. I’ve always been an outgoing person, so meeting and working with different types of people would be easy. Teaching had always appealed to me, but the salary just wasn’t worth it. However, this would give me the opportunity to “teach” in my own way, and obviously having personal experience in this department would certainly help with understanding my patients on a deeper level. After consulting my career counselor, I officially changed my major to Communication Sciences and Disorders and haven’t looked back. I finally feel as if I’m in the right place, and even though my mother sometimes complains that she won’t get free stays in hotels and spas with this major, I know that this is what I’m meant to do, and someday, just like Mrs. Bernard, I’ll hopefully get to see one of my students speaking “clearly and understandably” thanks to the lessons and smiles they got from me.