Recently I've been made aware of how important self awareness is. I've learned that while I may think I am self aware, I'm probably not. One of the things that most helps me in becoming self aware is honest feedback from others.
I don't know about you, but one of the hardest things for me has been to learn from people who criticize me. I tend to either try to defend myself or run from people who don't like something about the way I act or what I say. However, wise Solomon advised, "If you reject discipline, you only harm yourself; but if you listen to correction, you grow in understanding." (Proverbs 15:32 NLT). I've learned over the years that many of my critics, whatever their motive, have taught me some valuable lessons, if I can sift through my emotions and concentrate on the heart of what they are saying.
Looking back, I think of two women, totally unrelated, whose critical remarks made an important difference in my life. I'd like to tell you about one in this story and then about the other in a later story.
An awkward date
This memory surfaced for me as the result of a "gift" my daughter gave my wife and me called StoryWorth (https://www.storyworth.com/storyteller). Each week we are asked to write an answer to a question about our past. At the end of the year our responses will be gathered and printed in a book for our daughter. (I'm not real sure who gets the "gift" here!!). One of the recent questions was, "What is the most awkward date you have ever been on?"
As I considered this question, I thought back to a "date" that was quite uncomfortable but also made a difference in my life for the better.
It happened when I was in Middle School (we called it Junior High in our school), and it wasn’t exactly a date. During those years girls and boys would be invited to different parties that either met at someone’s house or, in the case where my "awkward date" happened, at the one room Girl Scout Hut in Beaver, Oklahoma, where I grew up. Obviously, this place was where Girl Scout troops met, but it could also be reserved for other events.
On this particular occasion I was invited to a party with several of my guy friends and there were about an equal number of girls there. None of us really had dates; we just showed up. These parties were always chaperoned by one or more parents. Often there would be a 45 rpm vinyl record player and the boys and girls would dance with each other to songs that were popular at the time. It was a shy and awkward age in and of itself, and we boys often would dare each other to dance with a particular girl, or razz each other if anyone showed a special interest in one girl or another. There might have been an occasional boy and girl who were “going together” and who spent more time with each other than the others, but usually the boys huddled on one side of the room and the girls gathered on the other. When someone would start a record playing, the brave among us would venture to the other side and ask one of the girls to dance or, sometimes, the girls would ask one of us boys to dance. As the party progressed, we would make the rotation and usually dance at least once with every girl who attended. At the end of a song, each girl or boy would hustle back to their covey and talk. I would often hear the girls giggling and see them pointing at us boys and wonder what they were saying about us.
Her question stunned me
On this particular occasion I found out what one topic of their conversation was. It was during a slow song and my dance partner was a girl named Peggy. I didn’t know Peggy very well. In fact, since I was shy and reserved, I didn’t know any of the girls my age very well. I did know that Peggy was very intelligent. She made some of the best grades among students in our class and when we graduated high school I think she was either valedictorian or salutatorian. At school I observed that she usually had well reasoned opinions and articulated her thoughts well. She seemed to operate on a level that we lesser plebeians couldn’t comprehend. In fact, I was always a little intimidated by her.
During our dance Peggy stood about a foot away from me with her right hand in my left and her other hand on my shoulder. My other hand was somewhere on her midriff and we shuffled around the room to the music. I don’t know what we were talking about during the dance (or if we were even talking much at all) but in the middle of it she looked me in the eye and said, “Why do you always spit on people when you talk to them?”
To say I was surprised at her question would be an understatement. I was totally caught off guard and looked at her dumbfounded. I didn’t even know how to respond. I was humiliated but I wasn’t angry, because I knew exactly what she was talking about. Looking back, I can now say that her question prompted me to make a change in my life for which I have been very grateful.
Overcoming my "Lateral Lisp"
I grew up with a speech impediment which I later learned is designated as a Lateral Lisp. Most people make “S" sounds through their front teeth. In my case, my S’s came out the side of my mouth and, though I was unaware at the time, were accompanied by a quantity of saliva that landed on others, particularly if we were in close proximity, like that slow dance with Peggy and apparently other girls that evening.
I wasn’t very self-conscious about my lisp before this. My parents, siblings and friends never talked about it. But others obviously noticed. I first became aware of it when I was in primary school. One year, about the third or fourth grade, I think, my teacher asked me and my best friend, Jerry, to stay after class one day. She told us that there was a speech therapist who was working with some students to help them pronounce their words better and she asked us if we might want to get out of class a couple of times a week to go see her. We both readily agreed because we thought anything that would get us out of boring class time would be great. Looking back, I never noticed Jerry ever having any kind of speech problem. So, I’m wondering if my teacher asked him to go with me so I wouldn’t be embarrassed for being singled out. I think that we went several times over the course of one semester, but apparently it didn’t work for me, because I was still spitting on girls with my lateral lisp when I got to middle school.
I went home from that dance humiliated and even more petrified to speak to anyone of the opposite sex, but also with a resolve to do something about my speech problem. Since there was no speech therapist that could help me that I knew about, the next weeks and months after the dance I would stand in front of my bathroom mirror and practice saying my S’s through my front teeth like normal. It felt so unnatural at first, but I would stand there talking to myself using as many sibilants as I could think of to force myself to do it. In my conversations with others I would have to concentrate on speaking correctly which was pretty demanding for a time. But, like anything done repeatedly over time, it became a habit and eventually something I didn’t even think about anymore. As a result, it feels unnatural to go back to my Lateral Lisp and I’ve not done it since my middle school years.
I don’t think I ever spoke more than a few words to Peggy again. I haven’t seen her for over 50 years, except for maybe one or two reunions. I don’t know where she lives or anything else about her life. But, if we could, I would like to go to a Girl Scout Hut and ask her to dance once again and thank her for raising my self awareness and changing my life a long time ago.
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