“Did you always know you had Apraxia?”
I didn’t always know I had a speech disorder, but I picked up people who couldn’t understand me by social cues. I would read the person’s confused facial expression, and I would soon realize they didn’t pick up on what I said. I always knew I had a speech disorder. However, I didn’t know the name for it until my mom sat me down and told me.
My mom soon told me I had Apraxia. I don’t remember this conversation, because I was only five. She was told at the end of Kindergarten year after my speech therapist told her. She was withholding information, and she soon ran off with my files because she didn’t know how to treat a child with Apraxia.
I felt powerless.
During my kindergarten year, I would be left outside her room. I remember two teachers coming up to me and asking me, “What is your name?” I tried to tell them, but I couldn’t pronounce my name yet, so I stood there, stomping my feet in frustration. I was scared, anxious, and I just felt powerless. I couldn’t self identify myself yet, even though I knew my name. The teachers would soon find my brother, who said, “Oh, that’s Jordan.”
I didn’t have a means of communication besides the speech I currently had. My close family members at home could understand me, like my mom, sister, and brother, but anyone else just really couldn’t. Having this barrier left me a lot of time to think in my mind. For anybody who questions if kids with Apraxia think, I can confirm that their mind is full. I had so many thoughts and ideas I wanted to say, but I couldn’t.
I felt anxious.
I remember having panic attacks since the age of five. I would get overwhelmed and frustrated with not being able to get words out, and this would soon spiral to panic attacks. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t develop speech like my peers, like the children beside me in the classroom. I would stomp my foot over and over, trying to speak, putting in so much effort, but my brain didn’t want to cooperate yet. The act of speaking with my mouth hesitant to say the words left me with feelings of anxiety.
My thoughts were:
“When will this word come out?”
“Why can’t I say this word?”
“When will I be able to talk like them?”
“Why are they laughing at me?”
I felt scared.
Teachers didn’t always understand my condition; they especially didn’t realize how Verbal Apraxia can affect your reading and writing skills. I was given a spelling test in my second-grade year. I would write down what in my mind made sense, which would look like “wqutvx”. My teacher would get frustrated. I remember him pointing at words, yelling, “What is this? I can’t read this.” When I would try to speak back to him, but couldn’t due to the speech barrier, he would repeat what he said and get louder. He pushed me over the edge; that’s when I had a breakdown and locked myself in the bathroom for two hours. My mom was called, and she got me out of the bathroom. The teacher said she shouldn’t take me home, but she said she knew her child, and he needed to be taken home. After this incident, is when my mom called the head of the school district. She had a person come in and explain to every person in the school what Verbal Apraxia was.
I felt appreciative.
I felt appreciative of my mom, who was there at the end of the day to pick me up, who advocated for me even when it wasn’t easy. I felt appreciative of the Speech Therapists that took their time with me and who let me know how much progress I was making. I was appreciative of my close friends during this time, those who would tell their mom I was getting bullied when I wouldn’t. People who stood up for me when I couldn’t, I’ll always be appreciative for. Now, it’s time for me to stand up for myself.
I’m willing to share my life experiences, and the emotions I felt, in hopes, it helps another child who may be experiencing these emotions as well. I’m casting away the shame I felt from my past in hopes of making this world a better place for the next child.