Taming the Wild Editor: How to Get Published in The ASHA Leader

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All around the world, wherever their presence is tolerated, editors are notoriously cranky and unreasonable. Some are so ill-tempered, they’re like wild animals. Can you blame them? They would rather be writers to begin with. Instead, these stunted authors toil in bumpy office chairs, sip stale coffee, and cultivate eye strain and stooped shoulders … while they pore over a seemingly endless pageant of manuscripts. Their profession is based almost exclusively on spotting others’ errors—in short, being insufferable curmudgeons. And this wretched life stamps its mark all over a person’s demeanor.

Right about now, you may be thinking: Thank goodness I’m not an editor. Most reasonable readers would agree and share your relief.

But here’s the bad news: If you’re a prospective author for The ASHA Leader, editors not unlike the ones we described above will decide whether your carefully crafted proposal is accepted or rejected. Like hungry (and angry) lions locked in a cage too long without Starbucks coffee, these ferocious editors seek out any signs of weakness in your proposal … and pounce. Call it instinct.

On the other hand, nothing is as soothing to these savage editorial beasts—nothing shines so bright a ray of light into their cluttered lives—as a well-crafted, compelling story proposal. Editors feel satisfied when they find an error, but finding a storyteller fills them with joy. It’s like catnip for editor lions.

So how can a prospective author brighten a downtrodden editor’s life? How can you find a path to safety—and publication—through the famished, circling lions? We’re about to arm you with the chair, whip and confidence you’ll need to tame a pack of wild editors.

In the Leader’s general guidelines, we ask prospective writers to submit a proposal form before they spend time completing an entire manuscript. This is designed to save everyone some time, rather than writing an entire story that may not be suitable for the Leader, or for its upcoming content. And the proposal form includes a checkbox for authors to affirm that they’ve read the Leader’s writer’s guidelines.

The catch, however, is that reading the guidelines typically isn’t sufficient. The Leader’s editors look for proposals that exemplify the guidelines: lively, entertaining stories that provide practical advice or enlightening information about communication sciences and disorders. Every story needs a “hook” to draw the reader in, and should be conversational enough to keep them reading. Write sentences in an active voice. Avoid technical terms, jargon and overuse of acronyms. And per the Associated Press Stylebook, don’t include parenthetical citations in the text.

In short, if an author checks the box affirming he or she has read our writer’s guidelines, we expect the proposal to demonstrate the guidelines. If it doesn’t, the author’s chances of being invited to submit a manuscript are greatly diminished.

Some have wondered whether the Leader is still a science magazine. It absolutely is. But it is not a scholarly journal. As far back as April 1962, James Jerger declared in Asha Magazine his belief that scientific writing can be readable—that it can inspire and inform while appealing to a wide audience. (The full article [PDF] is worth a read.) The Leader’s editors share Jerger’s belief. Instead of presenting concepts only to fellow clinicians, using specialized language and tangled verbiage, we see the redesigned Leader as a vehicle for clinicians to show the public and other professionals (those in CSDs’ many and varied areas) what they do—in language most readers can understand.

So what are the most important things you can do to ensure your proposal’s best chance for acceptance? The first four come straight from Jerger’s article:

  • Write short sentences. Use a new sentence for each new thought.
  • Avoid artificiality and pompous embellishment. Write it the way you would say it.
  • Use active verb construction whenever possible. Avoid the passive voice.
  • Use personal pronouns when it is natural to do so.

Most important, craft your proposal so its inspiring, informative qualities jump off the page. Use a hook. Include sample content that whets the appetite for more. Make the Leader’s editors sit up, take notice and demand to know where your story is going. At the very least, take pains to follow the writer’s guidelines in your proposal.

After all, when you’re fending off wild animals it’s usually best to throw them a bone.

Matthew Cutter is a writer/editor for The ASHA Leader.

How One Bold Adventurer Survived the Opening of Exhibit Hall at Convention (We Think)

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At approximately 8:35 pm on the evening of Thursday, November 14, a sheath of papers and an undeveloped roll of film were recovered by a custodian working in the Posters section of the Exhibit Hall at McCormick Place in Chicago. Tucked snugly under a (still warm) seat cushion, the yellowed, tattered handwritten manuscript and frayed film were rushed to the Leader’s office in Rockville, where they were subject to the most intense scrutiny and interrogation. Satisfied with the integrity of contents, astonished at the revelations contained therein, and aflame with ardent desire to share a unique eyewitness account of a quintessential ASHA convention event, the Leader presents the discovered manuscript in its entirety. For intelligibility, we’ve translated from the original Most Distant, Really Dullest, and Certainly Deadest Tongue.

DEAREST READER: Months of arduous sojourn across twilight epochs and treacherous terrain have brought me to this place, this moment, to this gathering of likeminded intrepid explorers poised to shatter the boundaries of convention and assail terra incognita. Mine is a wandering soul consumed by curiosity and troubled by siren calls beckoning through forbidden entryways. Standing and milling with hundreds of students and professionals outside the Exhibit Hall before it opens on the first day of ASHA convention, I am at last after all these long years among my own kind, again. We all want in, through that entrance blocked by McCormick Place staff. Right now. We’re just not always sure of the reason.

Someone pray tell—why are we here, waiting?

Huddled on the carpet some 20 feet away from the others, three students rapid-fire last night’s anecdotes and today’s possibilities while flipping through convention programs. Purses, askew tote bags and half-drunk cups of coffee ring them. Hmmm…perhaps their obviously keen attention to detail lends insights into why hundreds of us are all just, well, standing here ready to spring into whoknowswhat beyond yonder guarded entranceway.

After a lengthy, cross-city quest for a men’s restroom to change from elegant breeches and ruffles into roughen jeans and a too-plain button down shirt, I approach, ever hopeful, pen poised.

“So, are you waiting to get into the Exhibit Hall?”

Two nods, one dismissive glance back to the program.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why?”

Smiles and a chorus of replies. “I hear there’s lots of cool stuff in there—giveaways.” “My friend’s in charge of a poster session.” “I want to visit the bookstore.”

The latter speaker pauses, leaning forward. “We didn’t realize,” she hiss-whispers, “that there’d be so many people here when it opens!”

“Um…” I try to reassure. “You do know it’s open for all of convention, right?”

Shrugs. Blank stares. Heads return to programs and chatter resumes.

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I next squirm, dodge, and dart my way mightily to the front, hoping to converse with those possessing a vast reservoir of experience with such opening day events. One of the security staff is more than happy to chat.

(Me out of breath after crowd-tunneling extravaganza) “Why…in the world…are there so many people waiting… to get in?”

(Chuckle) “It’s always this way, sir.”

“Any reason for it?”

(Slight shake of head and sigh). “It’s just the way these things go.” (Mt. Vesuvius yell eruption) “MAKE SURE YOU ALL HAVE YOUR BADGES READY FOR INSPECTION!!!”

I scuttle-crawl away, none-the-wiser and God help me, somewhat deafened.

gary2

It’s now about 10 minutes before the opening of the Exhibit Hall, and a most fascinating ritual is occurring. The crowd without prompting or dispute is self-organizing into a single, momentously long, serpentine line that curls and stretches into the distance across the palatial hall. Sitters and standers fall into place; no disputes, just a low murmur of expectancy rippling up and down the line. Calling upon fifth-column skills well-honed for decades in His Majesty’s Most Glorious Topsy-Turvy Revolution, I slip into line, one-third back, without incident.

There’s still time to uncover the answer.  Hmm…perhaps another direction. My laborious research en route here did uncover the venerable Black Friday tradition of frenzied mob trampling while seizing limited time deals. Maybe exhibitors likewise promise opening hour deals?

“Hey, is anyone here to nab a bargain?” I call forward and back.

Universal acknowledgment of query but a stunning silence of reply. A few shakes of heads; one roll of eyes.

Dearest reader, I…still don’t understand. But, what the heck, let’s go along for the ride.

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11 am, zero hour. The line begins moving into the Exhibit Hall past security staff…steady…steady…the quick-stepping of hundreds of feet…we’re a millipede slowly picking up steam…and then the hounds unleash. Back segments of the line press forward and come alongside; we’re now four—nay, eight—across and coming on strong.

Faster. Faster. Oh boy.

A backpack-toting student a few millipede steps in front turns to me, brown eyes flashing and giggling. “Hey mister, you know why we’re here?? Because…it’s FUN!” Bursts of laughter.

We’ve just zipped past security and through the entranceway…rows upon rows of exhibits (staffed by some who seem rather startled by the human torrent) flash by to the right.

Goodness—most of us are surging left, a millipede in mad pursuit of the Poster sessions. Or NSLHA. Sustenance, perhaps? Wafts of downright delicious offerings pour in from 2 o’clock.

Pant. Pant. Fasterfasterfaster.  Woops–someone’s foot. Ouch—stand back, good sir. I must confess it’s most difficult to pen this narrative and properly capture visuals while honoring the press and pace of the crowd.

Oh my God, I can’t believe it! There’s hundreds of–

The narrative unfortunately breaks off at this point. The Leader has no reason to suspect that the author came to a grim, bone-crunching, nasty little end. We suspect that the tantalizing offerings of the Exhibit Hall were enough to draw him away from his sordid tale.

Gary Dunham, PhD, is the director of publications at ASHA. He can be reached at gdunham@asha.org.

Collaboration Corner: Supervision 101

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As a school-based clinician in the Boston area, I’m grateful to have access to some of the greatest learning institutions in the country. As an off-site clinical supervisor, I feel particularly obligated to make all that learning translate into something meaningful. In a public school placement, the school day can become insanely busy. This month I’ve decided to share a few tips that guide me both as a clinical supervisor and a professional.

Create a clear contract of expectations: Provide a copy of the school calendar with holidays, early release days. Provide a week-by-week schedule of expectations, including which specific clients your student will see, and how much supervision will be provided. Include any evaluations, reports and meetings your student will be expected to attend. Provide a mid-term check-in (even if the institution does not require it) and review academic expectations, this way you can give structured and specific feedback.

Know your learner, know thyself: Figure out early in the game, how she or he prefers to get information to you, including email or text messaging. Establish up-front what kind of feedback your student finds helpful, and how/when it is most helpful.  Generally, this seems to work if the student has pretty good insight as to how they function real-time. If they aren’t sure, provide examples. For example, do they mind if you jump in during a session, or do they prefer notes afterward?

Don’t assume anything: I usually get a list of the student’s academic resume and personal experiences. This doesn’t provide me with much information, so I go into the relationship assuming nothing. First, even if my graduate student has experience in a school, each school runs different, and has a unique culture. Second, I can’t assume they have any experience (or minimal experience) working with students like mine. Third and perhaps most importantly, don’t assume reading translates easily into application. A very clever mentor of mine once said, “Remember, you are only as smart as the last thing you read.” This is an important perspective, because not only are you teaching methodology, which brings text to life, but as a supervisor, you are setting the foundation for students’ clinical skills. Show them what they need to learn.

Encourage your student to journal: Reflective learning is the most important part of clinical growth. There is a ton of research supporting opportunities for reflection and professional development. I don’t ask students to show me their journal. I do ask them to take 10 minutes out of their week to sit down and write about two things: something that they learned that week, and something that they need to work to improve. I also encourage them to think larger, not just clinical skills, but interpersonal skills, and how they handled a difficult situation. Then, every other week or so, I have a heart-to-heart on how they think they are doing, and what they think their biggest accomplishes and challenges are thus far.

Leave at least 15 minutes twice daily for check-in: Once in the beginning before school starts to review lesson plans, and then once around lunch or at the end of the day. The first opportunity provides guidance on how to run the lesson; the second should be a chance to discuss how your student perceived the lesson-in-action.

Don’t take the little things for granted: Your students are always learning from you; this includes the good and unfortunately, the not-so-good-but-human moments. How you approach a conflict with a student or co-worker is a lesson. How you are able to comment on your mistakes (a good thing) is a lesson. So remember you are always a role model, not just as an SLP, but as a successful professional. Here’s the best part, I find students make us be the clinicians we want to be; even after a long week of parent conferences, a full moon of behavioral outbursts, or after one too many caffeine-fueled moments, they keep us accountable.

After all, after 16 years, I’m still learning, too.

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

How to Put the ‘Super’ in Supervisor

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Being a supervisor in any setting brings to mind a myriad of responsibilities. Is it best to guide or direct, monitor or inspect, influence or manage? As a supervisor to well over 120 speech-language pathologists in school settings during the past 15 years, I have learned a lot about duties and people.

Each situation or SLP calls for different handling at different times, but staying true to one’s own supervisory style is most important, I feel. Consistency helps everyone stay connected and working toward mutual goals.

Over the years I have developed a list of seven skills that have, time and again, helped me stay on track and support staff, even when I really had no idea how to handle a particular situation! If the following list can help even one person, I offer it with humility, as I am still learning and growing:

  1. Listen! Actively listen to staff (and parents!). Do not interrupt or begin to form a response until the person is done speaking. Sometimes people only need to be heard.
  2. Be available. Let staff know how, when, where to find you helps alleviate concerns.
  3. Take responsibility for your actions and for those on your staff. Do what you say you will do.
  4. Give credit where credit is due. Usually the best ideas have come from the staff.
  5. Lead, follow or get out of the way. Okay, I stole this one from Thomas Paine, but it is true. Often it is necessary to lead, but recognize and follow a good idea when it is offered. At times, you have to let a staff member figure out a solution for him or herself (this I learned from a seasoned supervisor).
  6. Stay informed. Stay current with knowledge and skills for your area of the field; it is fine to learn from other staff or supervisors.
  7. ACT. Be accountable, credible, trustworthy

Your list may be very different from mine, and I would be happy to compare notes. Supervision has been, by far, my most challenging and interesting job during my 30+ year career in speech-language pathology. And I am honored to be able to work with a dedicated and professional group of individuals! Each one has taught me valuable lessons about coaching, guiding, monitoring and supervising. The staff is truly the most valuable asset, and, as such, honing one’s supervisory skills is critical to your and their success. Good luck!

Janice Tucker, SLP.D, CCC-SLP, is a supervisor of speech-language support programs in Pennsylvania. She is past president of the Pennsylvania Association of Speech Supervisors and past vice president of the Pennsylvania Speech-Language-Hearing Association. She is an affiliate of ASHA Special Interest Groups 16, School-Based Issues, and 18, Telepractice.

A New Twist on Vocational Training

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In April, 2013 I wrote an article challenging SLPs  who work with students with autism spectrum disorder to use our creativity to help our students identify their strengths, interests and even fixations and parlay them into career possibilities (“Gearing Up for Reality,” ASHA Leader Magazine April 2013).

As a result I decided to create a six-week pre-vocational summer camp counselor experience for eight  high school aged male students, many of whom I hadn’t seen for several years. I wanted to offer them the same summer intern experience that typical students are exposed to minus the stresses and fear of failure.  Staff and I wanted this to be a safe and nurturing environment with structures in place to help them navigate the world of work.

The criterion was quite simple; the students needed to commit to work in our summer camp at least three days per week and attend weekly job club meetings where I would address daily living, social, and pre-vocational skills.  Additionally, each student would receive a stipend of $200.00 in exchange for their participation but more importantly to make our discussions on money management real and tangible.  Our program would culminate in a trip to Clear Lake, Calif., for a weekend work experience.

Sadly, our  six weeks have come and gone. I vividly remember how I felt on that first day seeing the boys. I stayed on the verge of tears as they each filed into my office with their parents in tow. Despite their height, good looks, and deep voices I could still see in each of them the little boys who I once knew. As I extended my hand to greet them, each gave me a warm hug. My heart melted!

It was interesting to watch the boys interact with each other on that first day. Some were more socially adept than others but they had all come a long way. In many ways, they were like typical teens sizing each other up and looking for a common ground while seeking acceptance.

During the first week I began to see their personalities unfold.  We had an antagonist, a peacemaker, a social “dude,” a wanna-be grouch with a beautiful smile, a cool diplomat, an “honest Abe,” an easy rider, and the sleeper with a big heart who never ceased to amaze us.  As different as they all were, the thread that bound them all was ASD. I was curious to see how they would adjust to working with the staff who were their bosses, the children who were the clients or consumers and the other assistants who were their colleagues.

During our first club meeting, as I laid out the employee rules, the antagonist challenged me on the “no cell phone” rule.  He wanted to remind me that the phone could be used for more than talking or texting.  After all, what if he wanted to check the time?  I calmly repeated the rule and reminded him that this was a company policy and referred him to the clocks on the walls.  This was nonnegotiable.

Meanwhile, “honest Abe” complained of total exhaustion and became stuck on how challenging the little children were. Interestingly, my sleeper who appeared to not be paying attention, when asked for an opinion said.  “I was like that when I was four and couldn’t talk, but once I learned how,  I didn’t cry as much.” Our diplomat closed it out and reminded everyone that they should “want” to help the kids in the same way “we” had  helped all of them. My heart skipped a beat as I thought how amazing are my boys!

Staff and I marveled as we watched them grow and mature in just six short weeks.  Several of them had worked with the boys in their early years.  We remembered the “social dude” when he had a fixation with fans. He told us that he has turned his fixations into hobbies and then began to tell of his hobby.  We also reminisced about the peacemaker who as a child was extremely shy.  We watched in disbelief as he  reprimanded the group and pleaded for them to allow the antagonist to finish his statement.

On July 19th we boarded our flight to Sacramento, drove two hours to Clear Lake and settled into an unbelievable weekend at the Full Circle Sheep Farm with sisters Eva and Marty who embraced us as if we were family.

Our workday started at 7 am on Saturday and we painted barns, tended the sheep and their lambs, and played with pets Blaze and Malcolm X . We then returned to our Travel Lodge to swim and relax before returning to the farm to paint drawings of sheep on the barns.  The remainder of the evening was spent discussing TrayVon Martin and lessons we could learn from this and similar situations.  Their concerns were valid and we collectively developed strategies to deal with the unexpected.

On Sunday morning we returned to say our goodbyes. The boys surprised all of us as they spontaneously spoke from their hearts about what the experience meant to them and even what they meant to each other. The social dude suggested they should all return not for a weekend but an entire week.  The grouch flashed his beautiful smile and agreed unconditionally.  Honest Abe said, “Lets do it again but somewhere that’s not so hot!”   Our smooth  diplomat said “We are like brothers and I love all of you.”  The sleeper had the last word and said “  I feel so blessed. I want to bring my family here.”  All of the adults fought to fight back our tears of joy.

On the flight home all I could think was “mission accomplished.” My pilot pre-vocational program was a success. The boys have committed to staying in touch and having quarterly activities. They have gotten a taste of the world of work and more importantly, they have learned the importance of giving back. We all agreed autism is a label and it doesn’t define how far we can go in life.  The sky’s the limit.  In the words of my sleeper, I feel so blessed!

Pre-vocational training video

From the blog of Los Angeles Speech and Language Therapy Center, Inc.

 

Pamela Wiley, PhD, CCC-SLP, is the president and founder of Los Angeles Speech and Language Therapy Center, Inc. She can be reached at pswiley@speakla.com.

Top 12 Pearls of Wisdom For SLP Newbies

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You’ve done it! Congratulations! Six years of school, countless clinical hours, and the Praxis. Now that it’s time to start your first job as a speech-language pathologist. Your first job will teach you all those things you didn’t learn in graduate school. After my first few years, I’ve reflected on the most important lessons I learned and here are the top twelve:

1. Be kind. Be kind to everyone! Everyday. Learn everyone’s names. Thank your secretaries, clerks, and custodians as many times as you can. Don’t underestimate the amount of help they will give you!

2. Go out of your way to connect with families. There are many reasons this is important. You won’t get the full picture of your student’s life if you don’t know something about their family and their life outside the school day. Your parents will be much more likely to buy-in to your homework plans and carryover if you’ve made a personal connection with them.  Lastly, you are taking care of their baby (the most precious thing to them in the whole word). If you’re working with their 3-year-old they will feel so much better if they know who the heck you are!

3. Don’t procrastinate. You’ll need help and there is no getting around that.  If you are writing an IEP at home at 9 pm for an 8 am meeting and then the printer doesn’t work, you won’t have time to make other arrangements.

4. Be a team player. Bite the bullet and volunteer to do things that take extra time. If you have a talent use it to help others. For example, whipping up visuals is super easy for me. Even when a student isn’t on my caseload, I often make up data sheets or visual posters to support students going through our RTI team. Your team will appreciate your talents and you will be able to ask your team to help you with their specific talents.

5. Think generalization from day one. Ask your student’s teacher what is the ONE thing you can work on to make the biggest difference in the classroom.

6. If you make a mistake, admit it, and find a way to solve it. Then don’t make that mistake again. You’re going to make mistakes, just be gracious when you do.

7. Ask for help, but do your own research first. Your co-workers and administrators will be willing to help as you get to know the paperwork. If you can do the research yourself and spend the time to try to solve problems yourself before you check in for help.

8. You aren’t done learning. Get involved with ASHA, blogs, conferences, whatever it takes. When a kiddo comes along and you haven’t seen that disorder before, get busy researching.

9. There’s nothing worse than being out of compliance or completing paperwork incorrectly. Your supervisors might not see how great your therapy is everyday, but the minute you’re out of compliance they will notice. The ‘take home message’… get organized early. Double check your dates and get with your teachers, clerks and intervention specialists. Get yourself organized before you get busy decorating that cute therapy office!

10. Advocate for all things speech and language in your buildings. You might even need to advocate for new ideas within the SLPs in your district. Speak up when you have a good idea, but remember that you’re new. Sometimes it pays to be quiet and listen to what seasoned SLPs have to say. They seriously know so much.

11. Document, document, and document. Remember, if you don’t document it, it didn’t happen.

12. You’re just one fish in the sea. Remember that when it comes to scheduling, therapy time, etc. everyone needs ‘time’ with the students. Work with your team. Just get over the fact that you think you’re done with your schedule the first time. It will change monthly if not weekly.

The best part of being a speech language pathologist is that you’re never done learning. You’ll get new interesting children added to your caseload, be challenged to use new technology, and collaborate in ways you never thought you would. By this time next year you’ll be able to make your own ‘top 12’ list of valuable lessons.

Jenna Rayburn, MA, CCC-SLP. is a school based speech-language pathologist from Columbus, Ohio. She writes at her blog, Speech Room News. You can follow her on facebook, twitter, instragram and pinterest.

Why the Scarcity of Male SLPs—and What Can Be Done

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One could easily see the lack of males in our profession by walking into any elementary school, or even attending an ASHA conference. It’s no secret that males are a rarity in speech-language pathology, but the topic of conversation has now shifted to what we can do about this trend. The fact that I was a minority in our field was apparent to me immediately after attending my first articulation disorders course.

Unfortunately, efforts to attract more males to our profession have been generally unsuccessful. Not only that, but according to data presented in the article on this topic by Kellie Rowden-Racette in the August ASHA Leader, the number of males in our field, and related fields (for example, psychology), have actually declined.

At this time, we have to use the information gathered by ASHA about why males are not choosing speech-language pathology, and develop concrete solutions on how to address the dearth of males in this profession.

The Frederick Schnieiders Research study conducted in 1997 revealed three common reasons males were less likely to pursue speech-language pathology compared with women: concerns about adequate income, concerns about advancement, and fears of limited opportunities for growth. Perry Flynn, an ASHA board member who blogged on this topic for ASHAsphere last week, shared an additional reason in the ASHA Leader article—lack of awareness:

“Men seem to have awareness and knowledge of many other related services—physical therapy, psychology, even occupational therapy, and certainly nursing—but no inkling of what a speech-language pathologist might do,” says Flynn, also associate professor at the University of North Carolina, Greensboro. Flynn’s insight holds true for me, as I knew very little about the scope of our profession before entering my junior year of undergraduate courses. However, as illustrated in the Leader article, there are issues beyond “awareness.”

Another explanation given of why men aren’t in the profession was that men are still unfairly viewed as less nurturing than women. I agree with Michael Maykish, an SLP in an elementary school in North Carolina, when he says, “You can’t generalize the notion that men aren’t nurturing.” Maykish goes on to say, “Successful SLPs are inherently nurturing, male or female. If you aren’t, you’re not going to enjoy being an SLP and probably shouldn’t be in this career.” We, as males, have an opportunity to promote our gender by directly showing we, too, can be nurturing.

Bringing awareness of CSD opportunities to the male population before they enter college will hopefully have a multi-pronged effect. This should give some insight and knowledge about the profession to some males who previously wouldn’t have considered going into our field, and possibly spark some interest. The male students who are now interested in CSD will act as a conduit, since, as history has shown, males influence other males regarding college major.

It is important that men in our field act as ambassadors, and take time to share the benefits of being in this profession with high school juniors and seniors. Word of mouth, coming directly from the source is a powerful tool.

Earning an adequate salary is obviously a concern for everyone, but, traditionally, it’s an even bigger one for males. Given the large numbers of SLPs employed in schools, developing ways to address this financial concern from a school-based perspective may be the best way to see the biggest return of male therapists. If we want to see the median income rise, I believe it is imperative we continue our efforts to separate ourselves, males and females, from teacher-related fields through continuing education and specialization. It is dispiriting to hear that SLPs are being offered entry level pay. We are highly qualified professionals who are in high demand. Consequently, negotiating a salary above entry level should always be an option, including when working with a school district.

Adding courses to your resume or becoming specialized in a particular area will only help school-based SLPs become more marketable and should result in higher incomes, which hopefully will attract more males to the profession. Providing treatment after school hours or during the summer are other ways to supplement a school salary, making the profession more appealing to salary-driven males.

I hope some of my suggestions are valid enough to spur even a small increase in the amount of males choosing CSD, as it is a remarkable field. A large section of my response focused on the financial aspect of our profession. I must admit the financial issue was not really relevant to me when I was considering the field. I guess I always felt if you work in a “helping” profession, you make some financial sacrifices. That said, I always felt my salary was fair, and if it wasn’t, it was my responsibility to change something.

Also, I realize much of this blog has been a testosterone-fueled rant, but I would be disappointed in myself if I didn’t thank all the wonderful female SLPs. When the demand of speech-language pathologists is still so high that I’m trying to convince more people to commit, regardless of gender, well, then the gender that has composed approximately 96 percent of our field for so long must be doing something right.

Kevin Maier II, MS, CCC-SLP, is an SLP in the Wyomissing Area School District in Pennsylvania.

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

July 25 (2)

 

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.

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.