I’ve arrived at a major breakthrough regarding my ability to process speech.
For the past week or so, I’ve been noticing that even Bob has been speaking too quickly for me. He speaks very calmly and very straightforwardly, but I’ve been feeling the strain of trying to keep up with him. I mentioned it to him a few days ago, and he’s begun slowing down his verbal speed. The other night at dinner, we were talking at a much slower pace than usual, and I noticed something extraordinary: The only way for me to grasp his meaning was to concentrate on the word pictures that were appearing in my mind. Only by taking the time to focus on the word pictures was I able to get a clear and substantial understanding of what Bob was trying to say.
And what’s more: Having the time to concentrate on the word pictures gave me time to respond in a meaningful way. I didn’t go on endlessly and tire myself out. I didn’t stumble over my words, transpose letters, or try to speak at break-neck speed, anxious all the while that I’d forget what I was going to say. I just responded, in the moment, in a purposeful way.
It’s a minor miracle, really.
I finally get it: My understanding of speech is visual, not auditory. It begins with word pictures, not with sound. My natural way of being in the world is to start with the spelled-out words that form in my head. Perhaps it’s for this reason that I don’t remember learning to read. I’ve always known how to read. At some point, I must have intuitively figured out the relationship between the spoken and the printed word. I’ve heard about children with Asperger’s who can read at a very high level at a very young age. I wonder whether they, too, can see all the words spelled out in their minds.
I’m beginning to understand why I have trouble keeping up with a conversation, even with just one other person. If there are too many words coming at me too quickly, I can’t take the time I need to see them in my mind. The word pictures are still there in my head, but they’re going by so quickly that I can’t keep up. If you put me in a room with more than one other person, the problem increases exponentially. And if you bring me to an unstructured social event, in which people are talking, drinking, eating, laughing, and moving around, I still see the word pictures in my head whenever my ears pick up a particular group of words, but the word groups are going in several different directions at once, and I’m still trying to follow all of them. No wonder my brain feels like it’s melting the minute I enter the room.
So here’s what I need from my friends and family members: I need them to slow down the pace of their speech, and I need them to leave pauses in which I can form a response. I know that some of my friends will be able to adapt to my style of conversation, and I know that others won’t be able to do it. For some people, it will be fairly simple. For others, it will be physically impossible. So be it.
I’ve seen this day coming for a long time. From the time I was young, I’ve felt that I must keep up, that I must go faster, but as the world kept speeding up, I found myself falling further and further behind. As a child, I remember trying to explain something to my mother, only to have her roll her eyes and say, “Just come out with it, for goodness sake!” So I learned to talk very fast, hoping like hell that somewhere in all that verbiage, someone might understand what I was trying to say. But all the while, I’ve wanted so much to slow everything down.
Why didn’t I? I’ll tell you why, even though it’s my deepest and darkest secret. I’ve believed all my life that if I have to slow things down—if a slow pace is the only one that works for me—then I must not be very smart. Now, I know that for many people, being less than very smart would not be the cataclysm it is for me. For me, it’s in the realm of the unthinkable. The belief that I’m very smart has driven all my hopes and all my dreams for my entire life. It’s what’s fueled whatever self-esteem I’ve built. It’s been the bedrock of my self-worth. It’s kept me going when I didn’t think I had anything left.
And now, I have to say to my friends and loved ones, “Please speak slowly so that I can enjoy a conversation with you.” In so doing, I’ve come face to face with my greatest fear: If I have to go slowly, I must be stupid. As I look that fear in the face, I see it transformed. It’s no longer my greatest fear. It’s simply the greatest myth I’ve ever mistaken for the honest truth.
Going slowly has nothing to do with intelligence. Nothing at all. Speech just takes the scenic route through my brain. That’s it. The whole reason that I go so slowly with speech is also the reason I’ve always been able to read. I see words spelled out in my head. My brain translates sounds to visuals, and then it has to translate a response into speech. What’s that got to do with being smart? It has nothing to do with being smart. It has everything to do with being different.
My husband told me that when his late wife was dying, she began to lose her ability to speak. As a result, she had to become very disciplined about not wasting any words. She had to speak more slowly, and the people in her life responded by slowing down their own speech. I’ve always thought their arrangement was possible because it was temporary. People slowed down their speech because those conversations were the last ones they would ever have with her.
But I don’t have a terminal condition. I’m autistic. I need people to slow down their speech for me, and I will need them to do it for the rest of my life. How many people can do it? I don’t know. Time will tell.
© 2009 by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg
I mentioned to Rachel that an analogous situation here is a method used by people who want to slow down their eating: they put down their fork or spoon between mouthfuls. In conversations, as in eating, there’s so often that feeling of “I’ve got to rush to get this food in or these words out before someone else jumps in and either takes my food or says the brilliant thing I was about to say.” So the challenge is to find the way to “put down the fork” in conversations. Taking a breath before responding certainly helps. If the listener knows that s/he’ll have the chance to respond, without the fear of being run over, it’s easier to take in what the other person is saying. Bottom line is, slow isn’t stupid — it’s smart!
Do you mind if people give you suggestions? (Or if they do, is there a way you would like them to offer suggestions?) I spend a lot of time thinking about small concrete ways to adjust social interactions, but I also know it can be really frustrating if someone tries to give advice and it’s all stuff you’ve already thought of.
Suggestions are always welcome! If I’ve already thought of the things you suggest, that’s no problem. Others will undoubtedly benefit.
Hi Rachel,
I was a very advanced reader at a very young age, and the fastest speed reader in my class to boot. For me, the words I see are spoken… I’m listening to a voice as I read, so I can read almost as fast as a person (me) can talk. The voice has no inflection or particular emotional content, just informational.
When I’m not sure of the spelling of the word, however, I pull the word-picture out of my data banks… I didn’t spend much time on phonetics, each word is a complete entity whether auditory or visual.
The same auditory playback functions during conversation… there’s some kind of ‘copy’ function in my brain that records and plays back what was just said, and I routinely refer back to the copy in conversation. I think it tends to not pick up inflected emotional content well, so I sometimes don’t receive that info with the content. Because of the playback feature, there’s a bit of a time delay for me as well. Like the digital delay some phone conversations can have (which drives me absolutely batshit).
And it can only copy one dialogue at a time… more than one and it all quickly just becomes a chatty babble in my head. Then my attention switches to the melody of the babble and I tend to loose the content. If I bring up the tape, I get totally random words put together from the various speakers, which make for some interesting sentences and in part explains those odd smiles I get. Sort of a digital skip phenomenon. LOL You…. dog…. can’t… drive… gotta…. later.
I love the way you put your request… please slow down so I can enjoy a conversation with you.
I’ve noticed that people raised “the old fashioned way” (their description but roughly meaning with structure, work, emphasis on politeness, and little TV) are much more likely to wait for me to formulate a response and also to not interrupt until they are certain I am through speaking. People who don’t watch TV also seem to be more prone to waiting their turn and paying attention when I speak. Hmmmmmm? This aspie sees a pattern developing! I also find that people who are accustomed to being in charge tend to talk right over everyone and interrupt a lot… a power habit, I suppose… but those people seem to remember their manners when they see my frustration.
I’d love to read about your observations of who can slow down and who cannot. Needless to say, I avoid TV and movie buffs if I can!
Here are some suggestions then.
1) Speak slowly and use a lot of pauses. A lot of people will adjust their conversational strategy to more closely resemble their conversational partner’s, even in everyday conversation. I think this is automatic for a lot of people.
2) Set the stage to indicate a slower conversation, if you can – e.g., “would you like to go into the living room and sit down and relax and chat over a cup of tea?” or “I’m actually kind of tired and could do with a relaxed conversation. Maybe we could go out to the back porch and sit and enjoy the weather?” “Would you like to maybe take a relaxed walk outside?” (If you have somewhere with a scenic view, like a nice backyard, that can encourage breaks between conversation for contemplation.)
3) If you’re going to go to a social event, and this is something the attendees would go for, try seeding the activities ahead of time with ones that are incompatible with lots of conversation. If there’s a game that you enjoy, you or someone else might mention to the host ahead of time that you were thinking of bring a particular game, and ask if they have a room that you could set it up in. The drawback to this is that if people aren’t interested in playing it, it doesn’t work very well. If you can get someone with more social connections to do it they may have more success.
4) I gravitate to the kitchen at parties and offer to help. There are usually fewer people there, and more tasks to do, meaning less conversation, and what there is is more predictable and usually involves finding or arranging or cleaning things. Sometimes people don’t want to burden their guests so they say they’ve got it under control, and a way to sneak in to help is spontaneously clearing up unused unattended plates/silverware/cups and bringing them into the kitchen. (As long as they’re really unattended.)
5) Phone calls (works best with cell phones): “I’m sorry, I’m having trouble making out what you’re saying because of background noise/a bad connection. Could you go back and slow down and speak a little clearer?”
Oops, that comment had two #3′s. Sorry about that.
No problem. I fixed it.
I just found out a few years ago that I am “probably” not an alien but actually an aspie ….(unless that is just the fancy name for “alien” created by psychologist ? ) …so, I am still trying to analyze how my brain works so I can maximize it’s use .
I have always wondered how someone who is as prolific reader as I have always been, could not seem to spell . I wonder if some people do not see individual letters but the over all shape of words and then figure out what the shape means based on context and process of elimination …..ie…the word for “chair” creates a chair picture in my head . I know that I have a tendency to leave vowels out both reading and spelling and can seldom figure out which vowel goes in a word .
I seldom have problems actually understanding individual speakers as long as there is no back ground noises and they are speaking in concrete information but it is very tiring and I avoid it as much as possible . An hour a day of human iteration is more then enough for me .
and thank “geeks” for spell check or I wouldn’t even be able to communicate with written language .
I totally understand what you’re referring to with the ‘word pictures’– I’ve often said about myself that it’s like I visualize subtitles whenever people are speaking. I think this is also the reason I enjoy watching movies and TV with subtitles turned on: the work my brain would otherwise have to do is already done for me!
I’m the same way: I love movies with subtitles! I had never thought about it before, but now I understand why. As you say, the work it being done for me. Plus, what’s on the screen reflects what’s in my mind, which is a very reassuring experience.
I think being with you in conversation will be delightful Rachel. I also have many similarities to problematic communications especially the talking too fast and filling up space. Recently I have been practicing thoughtful pause and breath to slow my brain down and at times it surprises me that with pause I don’t even have to respond. I have great difficulty with room noise and find myself constently having to ask my family to quiet down. Especially near bed time. My voice gets very soft and sentencing is short. My husband doesn’t get it at all when I have quieted my system and readied for bed and he comes barreling in the room with his high energy and (to me) loud voice. His response is usually “what’s the problem, I don’t get it, or I can’t talk softly”. So looking forward to a conversation that aligns well to my preference without trying to simply tolerate the others iimmediate need for response will be refreshing and welcome. I have also thought about using a note pad when in conversations to slow my brain down. For me to jot thoughts that are disconnected rather then include them in the conversation.
Suebeedee
suebeedee–Are you sure you’re not an Aspie?
I’m so glad that you want to get together and try out our new style of conversation. Yay! Maybe at Sukkot, in October, you can come over and have tea in our Sukkah. That would be great.
Oh that is so me it’s not funny. I’m TERRIFIED of “looking like I’m mentally retarded”, because our society conflates slow speech with intellectual handicaps. It’s to a large extent a reaction to bullying because I got Special Ed help at school. And to most jerkish kids without the sensitivity to care “Special Ed” meant “Retard Room”. No matter how smart I was I always had to deal with the “Retard Room” stigma.