Something was left out of my recent introduction and I did so on purpose. Not because I am ashamed of it — very much the opposite. I have a speech impediment and unless someone has knowledge about my type of cerebral palsy (such as doctors or physical therapists), my speech is the main external indicator that I have a disability. The fact that my speech impediment  --  what I refer to as an accent -- has a whole blog post devoted to it, is not so much my way of romanticizing it, as it is to draw attention to some of the most common misconceptions in society about having a speech impediment.

The first one, which I have had to wrestle with for years, is that if I cannot speak properly, then one of two things must be true: either I have an intellectual disability (ID) or I am drunk. Let me unpack these two assumptions that are as off-base as teaching children that the earth is flat.

I have dysarthria, a motor speech disorder caused by my cerebral palsy. According to the American Speech-Language-Hearing Association, dysarthria occurs because “the muscles of the mouth, face, and respiratory system may become weak, move slowly, or not move at all after a stroke or other brain injury.” My “other brain injury” was my premature birth. At the top of the list of symptoms of dysarthria is slurred speech. The most common activity society associates with slurred speech is being drunk. The fact that I am also Irish does not help matters.

If someone cannot speak properly and they are not drunk, then the other “reasonable” explanation is that there must be some issue with their intellect. While in some cases, that may be true, it is ridiculously unfair to blanket that assumption to every speech impediment. Many people with dysarthria are quite intelligent.

People are so accustomed to the natural development of speech that it is taken for granted. But in fact, it is a skill learned and developed over a lifetime. However, just like tomorrow is never an iron clad guarantee, neither is the mastery of speech. The ability to speak can be taken away at any time -- just ask most anyone who has had a stroke. I personally do not take speech for granted. That is because I have to earn it day in and day out.       

The taunt that I hear most often is the classic one, a word that virtually everyone with disabilities gets called at one time or another. I have been called the R word so many times because of my speech, it no longer phases me -- but that does not mean the sting has been taken out of it. The R word is as hateful as the N word.

Despite the taunts, my speech accent has never impelled be to hide or be quiet. Public speaking is one of my skills and I am often asked to do so. I enjoy it and by putting myself out there, I am helping to dispel people's knee jerk reaction to speech impediments. After a few minutes of hearing me, ears adjust to the rhythm of my voice and the passion comes through, illuminating the topic I am speaking on. One could say that I was born for the stage, even with my accent.