I just got back from the Reno McGuire program on Aug. 5 and I wanted
to tell you all a little about my experiences (and doubts, now that
I've had a few days to test my floaties out in the giant pool of the
real world.)

The first day I got there was new student introduction, which was
basically where we had to sit in front of a video camera and answer
questions about ourselves such as our name, age, address, school,
hobbies, etc. and then read a passage from what I assumed was the
McGuire manual. Because Junior Tereva (hi, Junior!) told us not to
hold back our stuttering as it would be "the last time we were ever
going to speak that way again", I definitely wasn't planning on
holding back. But...as I went last, and each preceding person spoke
more and more fluently, my insecurities grew, and by the time it was
my turn, I was as nervous as hell. I don't know if I was intending to
hold back or not hold back but either way, things didn't go so well.
My confidence was rather shaken after this ordeal, but I think it made
me all the more determined to learn the techniques and be diligent in
my practicing.

As the day went by, I realized that I was really "getting" the
technique...to the point where I was becoming impatient with the
pausing, sometimes near-hyperventilating because I was so eager to get
out of everything I had to say; for the first time in my life, my
thoughts and my words could completely coincide and I was becoming the
eloquent (that McGuire catchphrase), intelligent, witty person I
always knew I was. It was an absolutely freeing feeling, and if I knew
the feeling of running in a meadow with no shoes on, that's probably
the feeling.

I still remember my podium speech that first night...how I was shaky
as I walked up there, but once I stood in front of the room, I took a
few breaths and the terror that had always lasted throughout entire
presentations, suddenly dissipated. The speech, if I may so myself,
was not only near-fluent, but also charismatic and entertaining, as I
had hoped it would be. Everyone congratulated me on it the next day,
and I felt like they couldn't possibly be congratulating me on a
SPEECH, one of those things that I have always been most shameful about.

I gave probably 5 or 6 speeches altogether during the 3 1/2 days, some
more formal than others (2 of them were taped), and at the end of the
third night, I almost didn't want to go to sleep, knowing that the
next day would be my last. The icing on the cake was during contacts
(a term used for when we go out into the "real world" and interact
with the public) when Brian (one of my coaches) and I passed by this
cafe as we were heading out of the mall to go back to the hotel, and
we noticed a guitarist setting up his stuff, with a microphone
standing there, very nearly beckoning to me. Brian kindly explained
that I was a recovering stutterer and if I could possibly go up and
just say my name into the microphone. The guitarist seemed amused but
very kind, said sure, and even offered to introduce me. I think I was
in a cloud of haze at this point, and I mumbled a "no thank you" as I
made my way to the front of the microphone. No one was really looking
at me yet, but as I took my deep breaths and said "Hi", everyone
looked up, probably expecting a song to entertain them during their
dinner. Instead, I said "My name is Cheryl, and I'm a recovering
stutterer working on my speech..." I also mentioned being in Reno on a
speech recovery program called the McGuire program and I ended with
thanking them for listening. Brian asked me how I felt on the way back
to the car, and I said it felt dream-like. In fact, the whole program
now seems like a dream, but a very good dream.

Just the fact that it felt like a dream, though, means that coming
back to reality hasn't been the easiest thing. It's been difficult to
take in those big breaths when you know that the person standing
opposite you is not a McGuire grad or student and therefore has no
idea why you are doing such a thing. It's also difficult to pause and
keep maintaining eye contact as you watch them begin to look
uncomfortable and squirmy. However, the incredible support network
that develops from these programs makes it all worth it. Today, I had
a call from one of my coaches that just reminded me of the utopia that
was the McGuire program, and he lives about 15 min. away from me, so
there will be definitely many chances to visit him in the future.

I also went on two interviews in two days (and a third one
tomorrow...I did, in fact, end up quitting my Hollywood job). The one
yesterday was not so successful as I sort of lost my "zone" (it didn't
help that the interviewer kept walking away from me and coming back)
and I forgot some of my techniques. The one this morning, however,
went quite well, and I was completely calm and deliberate in my use of
techniques, and I probably had no more than two blocks for the entire
thing.

I see this whole thing as a grand process, and though I may receive
occasional support from my coaches and my family, I know this is a
path I will have to walk alone. Independence is a tough ability to
acquire and the realization that we are all essentially alone is a
tough lesson to learn, but I'm glad I'm learning it at 18. Life, for
the first time ever, can actually be enjoyable! Not stress-free, not
candy in the sky...there will definitely be some more rough bumps in
the road (maybe not even related to stuttering), but I'm prepared and
even HAPPY to take on those challenges and see how far I can push
myself. If I can go from being a depressed, angsty teenager to a more
grounded, strong, realistic yet optimistic young woman...I'm sure you
can too. Life is beautiful and life is a struggle. Life is a beautiful
struggle.

~ Cheryl ~