What Does a Fulbright Specialist Do?

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The Fulbright Specialist Program links U.S. academics and professionals and their counterparts at host institutions overseas. Qualified academics receive grants to engage in collaborative two- to six-week projects at host institutions in over 100 countries. International travel costs and a stipend are funded by the U.S. Department of State Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs. Participating host institutions cover grantee in-country expenses or provide in-kind services.

Communication sciences and disorders professionals are among those who participate in the program. In this post, I (Robert Goldfarb) and my colleague Florence Ling Myers recount our experiences in it.

Florence was a specialist in education and worked at the University of Hong Kong in 2011 for two weeks. She received approval for the five-year placement on the specialist roster. I was a specialist in applied linguistics/TEFL at Universidad Pedigogica Nacional in Bogotá, Colombia for six weeks, with the latter half of the commitment completed online after returning to the United States.

Our experiences were different enough to provide a sense of what a prospective Fulbrighter can expect.

Florence’s experience: Fluency disorders and returning to my roots

My mission in going to HKU was to reinforce the importance of fluency disorders in the family of speech-language pathologies. I gave workshops to students and professionals on cluttering, cluttering/stuttering, and stuttering. I met with academic and clinical faculty and reviewed curricula. Of particular interest was learning the problem-based learning paradigm used by faculty. The pedagogical philosophy is that students need to acquire critical thinking and problem-solving skills, to pose clinical hypotheses based on independent library research and come up with evidence-based therapy approaches for various case studies.

I had the pleasure of co-mentoring a senior thesis in stuttering. The student was bright, responsive and competent. HKU is definitely a high-power university, with great expectations for faculty and graduate students to publish in premier journals.

I also had a personal mission: to return to my roots and give back to my motherland. I escaped to Hong Kong as a refugee from mainland China in 1949 with literally nothing but the reassuring hands of my mother. I took not so much a “slow boat from China,” but a creaky leaky junk under the blackened nocturnal skies from Canton. I now wonder if I had been an illegal child alien. My dad was already in the United States to earn his doctorate in physics from the University of Missouri. Much has changed in Hong Kong since the 1940s, yet there is still this undefinable yet undeniable human spirit—to survive and thrive—among the people there.

Having been in the United States for nearly 60 years, I, too, have changed, though there is still very much a Chinese core in me. Whether or not one is from the East or West, the common bond that motivated me to return to my homeland as a Fulbright Specialist was a passion for cluttering and stuttering, and to instill this passion in the next generation of speech-language pathologists in China.

Robert’s experience: Helping with research methods/professional writing

I committed to teach two intensive graduate courses in research methods and in academic writing to advanced students working on thesis projects. In preparation for the visit, I arranged for my publisher to send some relevant books I had authored, and added others I thought might be useful. In addition, I prepared course packs in English and Spanish (with the help of a graduate student from South America) regarding local idioms. I learned, for example, that people in Colombia expressed something very positive as “the last Coca-Cola in the desert.”

Students also received feedback on their research projects in various stages, from proposals to data collection. Another commitment was a keynote address, called the Foro Fulbright, to local universities and other Fulbright scholars in the country. The students and young faculty were all bright, hard-working and dedicated, but their exposure to research design and international perspectives was provincial. Most students and faculty were open and eager to learn what the global academic community had to offer.

Not all experiences were positive. I was given Thursdays off, because it was known as “riot day,” when vigilantes stormed local universities. Sure enough, on the first Thursday of my visit and the Wednesday of the second week, I was ordered out of the office I shared with colleagues as vigilantes bombed the institution for hours. These events were followed by riot police storming the university. The tear gas they discharged lingered in the air for days.

Finally, on the Sunday before I left for home, I was robbed by a policeman while walking to the supermarket. The executive director of Fulbright Colombia called it a perfect storm of crime and civil unrest, and approved my decision to teach the remainder of my courses online.

Ongoing ties

Our students continue to keep in touch. I have helped several students write master’s theses of which they could be justifiably proud, and the thesis that Florence co-mentored was published the following year in the International Journal of Speech-Language Pathology.

Working as Fulbright Specialists allowed us to interact with colleagues and students abroad, while serving our country as ambassadors of scholarship. While there were some unwelcome experiences for me, we have many positive memories. We encourage you to apply to be on the roster, but note that you will need a bodyguard in some countries.

 
Robert Goldfarb, PhD, CCC-SLP, is professor of communication sciences and disorders at Adelphi University. He is an affiliate of ASHA Special Interest Groups 2, Neurophysiology and Neurogenic Speech and Language Disorders, and 4, Fluency and Fluency Disorders.

Florence Ling Myers, PhD, CCC-SLP, is professor of communication sciences and disorders at Adelphi University. She is an affiliate of ASHA SIG 4.

Get Some Book Drive Know-How

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In low-income neighborhoods, one book for every 300 children? In middle-socioeconomic status neighborhoods, 13 or more books for every child? I read this jarring statistic and had an epiphany. As a university professor, mother of a school-aged child, and part-time itinerant public school speech-language pathologist, I wondered if there was a way I could help effect change for the low-SES children in my own area?

SLPs all over the United States battle with the problem of students who present with cognitive, linguistic, and executive functioning deficits related to being from low-SES backgrounds. Sometimes these students have genuine, underlying language impairments and qualify for language interventions, but many times they are typically-developing language learners whose language deficits stem from their low-SES status and its accompanying disadvantages. As experienced SLPs, we all know that low literacy skills can have lasting and serious consequences. A shocking statistic indicates that in states such as California and West Virginia, prison cells are built based in part upon the number of third grade students who are reading below grade level. What could I do to help?

I decided to attack the problem of a lack of books for children in low-income homes. I started collecting new and gently-used children’s books in fall of 2008 for a graduate student’s thesis. We collected several hundred books, which she used, and then she graduated from our program. In April of 2009, my beloved mother, Beverly Roseberry, died of a heart attack. Mom had been a general education and Sunday school teacher. In the Philippines, where I grew up (my parents were missionaries), my mom always had books for my sisters and me despite the fact that we were quite poor. On one island we lived on, my mom even started a library for the Filipino children. She loved books, and made sure that my sisters and I did, too! I decided to keep the children’s book collection going in my mom’s memory. Today we have collected and donated more than 43,000 books to local children in under-resourced areas. There are 21 area agencies and organizations receiving our books as well as three elementary schools.

 

July 25

Third grade students at Whitney Elementary School receive books to keep and read during the summer.

It can be discouraging for SLPs who work with at-risk, low-SES children to address the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that these children face. One of these obstacles is the lack of access to age-appropriate reading materials. How can the average SLP gather children’s books to distribute to low-SES children to keep as their own? Here are some tips for being successful:

  1. Have a large, attractive, marked box in a central location that is easy for people to get to
  2. Make the collection time-limited (e.g., 1-2 months)
  3. Have a short flier explaining why books are being collected and who they will be shared with. On the flier, have a contact person with contact information (like an email).
  4. If possible, donate the books locally to groups of children that your audience of donors cares about. For example, the books collected by the Orangevale Rotary go to the Orangevale Food Bank. Books collected by moms in Davis go to Head Starts in Davis. People are most enthusiastic if books stay local and connected to them somehow.
  5. Be sure to pick up the books on a regular basis. Don’t let that box overflow and make a mess!
  6. Challenge your group to collect a certain number (e.g., 100-500 books). People love a numerical goal.
  7. Keep reminding people—announcing the book drive one time will not be sufficient.
  8. At the end of the book drive, celebrate with a treat! Share information about where the books went. If possible, share pictures of children who have received the books.

I have had several undergraduate students in our program gather between 300-800 books just by asking their friends. Members of service organizations such as the Rotary often like to take on a project such as a book drive. Churches are another great source. My own church, Bayside, has donated more than 5,000 beautiful books!

Most of all, remember: people love to donate books for a good cause. I have found that many, many people have children’s books sitting around in their homes gathering dust; however, the people are so sentimentally attached to the books that they cannot just give them to a faceless organization. Having a person specifically attached to the book drive—a face to identify with—helps people become more willing to part with books that hold precious memories. If you are the “face” of your book drive, most people will be very generous in their donations.

A book drive has several major advantages: 1) low-income children benefit greatly from having their own books, and their literacy skills improve; 2) your friends get to clean out those closets, and 3) you get the joy of seeing children own their own books—for many, these are the very first books they have ever owned. Collecting and donating children’s books is something I will do for the rest of my life, and I have been privileged to have tremendous support from my students, church, family, and friends. Good luck!

Celeste Roseberry-McKibbin, Ph.D., CCC-SLP, is a professor in Sacramento State University’s Department of Speech Pathology and Audiology and also works directly with students ages 3-18  as a speech-language pathologist in the San Juan Unified School District and has writes a blog about her book drive. She can be reached at sacbookdrive@gmail.com.

ASHA Schools 2013: Putting Your Best Foot Forward

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I needed to find some bandages. Even though it was Friday morning of my fourth ASHA Schools Conference I had somehow conveniently forgotten how even the most seemingly comfortable shoes can feel like torture devices after a day of running and I had forgotten to bring bandages. Luckily the very nice concierge listened to my tale of woe and, instead of making me walk five blocks to the nearest drug store, gave me four bandages from the hotel’s super secret hidden first aid kit. Bingo—I was set.

I don’t wear fancy shoes very often (and usually new shoes for me means new running shoes) but every now and then I’ll splurge on a pair that promises pizzazz and comfort. Hence my silver platform pumps that were actually cleverly disguised “wellness shoes.” Yowza. Off I went to the Long Beach Convention Center.

In the ballroom for the opening plenary: So far so good. Everyone is busy getting their materials and buzzing around saying hi to friends and colleagues. The opening speaker, Murray Banks, infused the audience with his energy and passion for teaching. Once named the Teacher of the Year in Vermont and a recipient of the Outstanding Educator Award from the American Alliance for Health, Physical Recreation and Dance, Murray told the audience that they, as SLPs, were charged with a special mission for each student—to connect with them, no matter how difficult. “Each day,” he said, “remember to look in the mirror and tell yourself ‘It’s show time!’”

The morning sessions were good—really good. I wanted to go to both Sylvia Diehl’s presentation on autism and executive function where the audience learned why “visual supports are the bomb!” and Patti Prelock’s session where she helped the audience identify steps to make an effective integrated team to support students with severe disabilities. I had to divide my time and (of course) they were located at opposite ends of the conference center. I could feel my feet becoming one with my shoes but in a good way. Each speaker emphasized the importance of looking at each child and really learning what was behind the behaviors and to the goals.  In other words, improve a life one story at a time.

Meanwhile I was beginning to take note of the shoes conference attendees were wearing as they, too, ran from session to session. I had already fielded several questions about how comfortable my shoes were, so I was curious about others’ choices. If I had to say there was an overall theme, it was comfort. But that didn’t keep some from wearing heels, straps, and sometimes even flowers on their feet.

It was in Wayne Secord’s Friday afternoon session I gained some insight into the conference’s attendees’ shoe choices. Secord presented the results of a questionnaire that he had presented to each state’s top two speech-language pathologists (each state determined the qualifications and chose one from the schools and one from health care). The idea was for the answers to this questionnaire to illuminate what sets these great speech-language pathologists apart. The presentation was fascinating and some of the characteristics Secord pointed out resonated with me:

  • They remember their priorities
  • Not afraid to take risks
  • They understand the big picture
  • They never got too comfortable in their jobs

And then I started thinking about some of the shoes I was seeing.  They weren’t just comfortable, they were athletic and purposeful. They weren’t just fun, they were creative. They weren’t just borderline uncomfortable, they were a way to not get too comfortable. So, in fact, the very members who were attending this conference and racing to go to all the sessions they possibly could, were, in a way, embracing and displaying the characteristics identified to place them in the top in their profession. I met so many wonderful people at this conference and was reminded once again what a special breed it takes to be a school-based speech-language pathologist.

Going forward into the conference on Saturday and Sunday, the race continued as there was so much to see. People were running to catch Vivian Siskin’s session on Avoidance Reduction Therapy for children who stutter; others clamored to see Bonnie Singer’s instructional strategies for academic writing; and there was practically a stampede of members vying to hear Judy Montgomery share vocabulary strategies to support the Common Core State Standards. I did notice, however, that the number of high heels had greatly diminished by Sunday.

After one of the afternoon sessions I decided to check out the exhibitors in the Exhibition Hall. Among the many vendors of books, speech software and literacy programs, I came upon Kathie Kenaston who was representing the Fairbanks, Alaska, school district and trying to recruit SLPs to come to Alaska. A former California girl, Kathie has lived in Alaska for more than 20 years and loves it. I asked her how recruitment was going and she said that it’s slow but steady.

“Going to Alaska isn’t for everyone, but it’s perfect for the right person. I’ve seen people embrace it but I’ve also seen people not be able to handle it,” she said. “When I’m talking to someone about it I can usually tell if they’d like it by their shoes.”

Look for more ASHA Schools Conference 2013 coverage online in the upcoming August issue of The ASHA Leader.

Kellie Rowden-Racette is the print and online editor for The ASHA Leader. She can be reached at krowden-racette@asha.org.

 

 

 

Collaboration Corner: Being Included

July 18

 

This is a story of why inclusion works. This story is about the sincerity of a fifth grade class, who like most 11-year olds moving to middle school, are full of excitement and angst. They had been together since kindergarten. When they were in fourth grade, a new student arrived. Abby (not her real name) entered their classroom as sweet student full of spunk and delight. A child with Downs Syndrome and autism, Abby is non-verbal. While in school, she learned how to use PECS, some signs, and her Dynavox. Most of all, she developed a fierce attachment to her peers, teachers and school community.  The feeling was mutual. When she was absent, her friends would ask how she was doing. Her peers pulled her into their games and conversations, whether by using sign, or learning to use her communication systems. An outside observer would never  have guessed that Abby was relatively new to the class or her school.

Which is why, two days before fifth grade graduation, when Abby didn’t come to school, her classmates became worried. They discovered that just a few days earlier, Abby had fallen and broken her leg, and would miss her graduation.

And that’s when the good stuff happened. The class decided to make Abby a get well video, and sang Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, a personal favorite that she often asked for when in class. Her elated parents called the school. According to her parents, Abby sat in her leg cast, watched the video, and beamed.  She smiled and waved at the video while her friends wished her get well and sang.

Then the school organized a graduation ceremony. Given her injury and sensitivity to sound and large crowds, the school arranged a smaller graduation, just with her fifth grade class. We all hoped that Abby would be well enough to make it that following Monday.

Monday arrived. With fans blowing, and classrooms sweltering 90 degrees, Abby came into school by wheelchair. Even though the class had graduated a week earlier, they wanted Abby to experience the same excitement they did at their own graduation. The staff cued up Pomp and Circumstance, and the class filled in the bleachers with Abby in line. My friend and colleague gave a graduation speech dedicated to not just Abby, but to the whole class. She spoke of how this class that grew up together readily embraced a new student to their class. How their acceptance reflected sincerity found in communities of people that care for one another. They learned how to reach out to her, and she taught them how to become a friend and advocate.

The ceremony concluded with the class singing and dancing to, Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, Abby’s favorite song. Then, for the second time in a week, the students received their diplomas, congratulations and a handshake from the principal and staff. As she rolled up and took her diploma, the class gave an enthusiastic (but silent) cheer for Abby.

As the class emptied the bleachers row by row to the song, Time of your Life, Abby began to cry. Maybe it was the activity, or the noise, but it almost seemed that on some level, Abby knew that this was the end (or the beginning) of something special.

The values posted on the front of our school building our simple: Be kind and respectful to everyone and everything. Include everyone.

Role models are what we need most in inclusion. Congratulations to the class of 2013, you sure are the best. Thanks for reminding me why I got into this career in the first place.

 

Kerry Davis, Ed.D, CCC-SLP, is a city-wide speech-language pathologist west of Boston. Her areas of interest include working with children with multiple disabilities, inclusion in education and professional development. The views on this blog are my own and do not represent those of my employer. Dr. Davis can be followed on Twitter at @DrKDavisslp.

On the Other Side of the Table: Receiving the Diagnosis

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As a professional working with communication disorders for 13 years, I find it second nature to complete evaluations and report results and recommendations to families. Due to my graduate training and a couple of wonderful professors—in addition to an understanding of assessment and treatment of speech/language impairments—I feel I came away with effective skills in counseling and empathizing with families in the face of an unexpected diagnosis.

It was not until recently, however, that I found myself on the other side of the table, watching my father go through neurological and cognitive testing and hearing the impending diagnosis: moderate Alzheimer’s.  Though I was confident he was showing clear signs of dementia prior to the evaluation, as I sat with him during the exam, it was difficult, yet eye opening, to watch him struggle through simple language and memory tasks that previously would have been so easy for him.

Even more eye opening was his own unawareness of the problem, his inability to understand the reason he was seeing a neurologist in the first place, and the fact that most of his responses were incorrect, though he thought he nailed them!

At home with my mother, more eye openers came very quickly.  Though I primarily work with children, I have always been a big advocate for family and parent training, and I have sought to educate and include parents and family members as much as I can in the treatment of my clients. I have learned that my skills—what comes naturally to me, how I engage with children, how I intuitively attempt to promote speech and language at every turn—are not skills I can assume that parents and caregivers possess, and this understanding has helped me shape my family/parent education model.

With adults, however, I haven’t always thought in those terms.  I have come to realize that I tend to assume that adults, especially educated adults without impairment, should know how to engage with other adults who have cognitive-communication impairments.

It took me by surprise that my mom did not possess the understanding or the skills to handle my father’s memory lapses, lack of retention, confusion, reduced reasoning skills, and disorientation to time, place, and people.  The changes that are needed in their current home environment and in my mom’s interactive style with him appear obvious to me, and I can immediately “frame-switch” with him, changing the way I respond, react, reassure and redirect due to his current deficits. My mom, however, doesn’t know where to begin. Though she is an intelligent and very caring person, she appears stuck in the relational style she has always had with him, demonstrating by her words and actions that she expects from him the same sharpness and clarity of mind.

There is no overt denial of his condition, but there appears to be what I’m calling a “relational denial.”  She knows his cognitive function is progressively deteriorating, but she does not know how to modify her way of interacting with him. She cannot even identify that her expectations have not changed. The take-home point that has been solidified for me is this: One of the most important and effective roles I have as a speech-language pathologist serving adult populations is caregiver education and training.  I realize this is not a breakthrough discovery in the field of speech-language pathology, but I believe many of us do not spend enough time giving caregivers the tools and strategies to help themselves and their loved ones.

Even though my mom and I talked openly, honestly and lovingly about the needed changes, she could not readily implement them. Switching her frame of mind and subsequent actions and reactions has required much intentional modeling and repetition on my part. It has required identifying how she automatically responds and reacts, then identifying what a more effective way to respond and react would be to reduce her own frustration and his.

One discussion session would not have been enough.  A set of handouts or a brochure would not have been enough. Recommending a good book on Alzheimer’s would not have been enough.

This experience has caused me to evaluate not only my views on caregiver education and training for adult populations but also my investment in a hands-on family education model that is thorough, caring, and thoughtful. Families and caregivers desperately need our expertise in practical ways to effectively cope and help their loved ones!

 

Ana Paula G. Mumy, MS, CCC-SLP,  is a trilingual speech-language pathologist who provides school-based and pediatric home health care services in Colorado Springs, Colo. The author of various continuing education eCourses, leveled storybooks and instructional therapy materials for speech/language intervention, she also offers resources for SLPs, educators and parents on her website The Speech Stop.