‘University?… hell no!’: Stammering through education

International Journal of Educational Research 59 (2013) 57–65

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‘University?. . . hell no!’: Stammering through education Clare Butler Newcastle University Business School, Newcastle University, Barrack Road, Newcastle upon Tyne NE1 4SE, UK

A R T I C L E I N F O

A B S T R A C T

Article history: Received 26 July 2012 Received in revised form 10 February 2013 Accepted 6 March 2013 Available online 28 March 2013

Little research has addressed the effect of having a stammer on academic achievement, specifically progression into higher education. This study spans six decades of educational practice and shows few differences in participants’ experiences. They describe their education as occasions of scant interaction, spatial segregation and limited encouragement. This alongside an abundance of ‘tension’, ‘humiliation’ and a host of unasked questions, restricts their educational achievement and aspirations. Findings also offer insights into the possible long-term impact for students with other impairments or disabilities. These include their not being embedded in the educational networks, which may restrict their ability to develop the vital life skills of teamwork, persuasion and negotiation. The implications are considered using a frame of social exclusion. ß 2013 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.

Keywords: Disability Social exclusion Higher education Impairment Stammer Widening access

1. Introduction School days are reportedly the best days of your life: carefree and full of promise. The skills developed during this time are vital for an individual’s personal, social and economic wellbeing. As the OECD Secretary-General declared: ‘Children who get a good start thanks to high quality education in early childhood are more likely to succeed in later stages of education and in the labour market’ (Gurrı´a, 2011). Yet, it is reported that for many children their school days are far from carefree. For those children who have a disability or impairment (hereafter disability) the learning environment can present barriers which hinder their capacity to engage with their learning. These barriers have a detrimental effect on their level of educational attainment and progression into higher education (Gregory, Shanahan, & Walberg, 1989; Holt & Allen, 1989; Mooney & Smith, 1995). Alongside, being ‘different’ is socially marginalising and having a speech impediment, such as a stammer or stutter (hereafter stammer), is one such marginalising difference. It is reported that 1% of the worldwide population has a stammer with the instances being higher among men than women: with the ratio of 4:1 being reported in the literature (Lees, 1999). Stammering is a communication disorder with the most obvious feature being a disruption in the smooth flow of speech: often shown via the repetition of parts of words, hesitations, prolongations or blocks where there is a complete cessation of speech for an extended period of time (Bloodstein & Bernstein Ratner, 2008). The wide range of speech patterns demonstrated by people who stammer is matched only by the number of theories which surround the reasons for, and ‘correct’ treatment of, speech dysfluency (Yaruss, 2010). Yet studies have repeatedly found that people who stammer suffer from social stigma because of their manner of speech and negative stereotypes are rife (Crichton-Smith, 2002). People who stammer are often categorised as being timid, emotionally imbalanced, shy and introverted (Ham, 1990; Smith, 2004; Von Tiling, 2011).

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Stammering is also said to have a detrimental effect on the parents of children who stammer, they report frustration; guilt that they may have somehow caused the stammer; and fear for their children’s educational prospects (Langevin, Packman, & Onslow, 2010). But is this fear well founded? In this article I explore this question. I relay the findings of a research project in which people who stammer are asked to share ‘the story of their stammer’ with this article focusing specifically on their experiences of the educational environment. There is an excellent body of research which examines students’ experiences of disability in school (Gregory et al., 1989; Holt & Allen, 1989) and higher education (Fuller, Healey, Bradley, & Hall, 2004; Goode, 2006; Richardson, 2009; Tinklin & Hall, 1999; Tinklin, Riddell, & Wilson, 2004; Vickerman & Blundell, 2010). Those examining higher education typically focus on students who are in higher education and engaging with their studies. This present research differs from prior studies of disability and higher education by considering another group – those disabled students who never arrived. Besides, there is much work in the speech and language literature which considers the experiences of children who stammer while they are still at school. Scholars have reflected on children’s day-to-day experiences (Williams, 1982); examined speech dysfluency detection rates by teachers (Lees, Stark, Baird, & Birse, 2000); and explored the impact of differing speech therapies on classroom engagement (Finn, 2003). Yet, in-depth empirical research that draws on the recollection of adults of their school experiences and then, by virtue of this retrospective view, their educational experiences beyond school is to my knowledge missing in the literature. This research seeks to fill this gap and in doing so aims to support the agenda of widening access to higher education. 2. The study Participant sampling was achieved via requests during ‘open microphone’ sessions at stammering support events and by contacting, and subsequently taking part in, stammering self-help groups in the north of England, UK. Participants volunteered to take part either verbally during the events or via email and were therefore self-selecting. Participants totalled thirty-eight people who stammer: seventeen of whom took part in a semi-structured interview with the remainder engaging in focus groups. They ranged from nineteen to eighty-nine years of age with them typically experiencing speech dysfluency from five years old. The sample was just over 80% male, being representative of the prevalence of stammering in men compared to women. Those with employment experience are working, or have worked, in the civil service, construction, education, health and social care, retailing, law, along with a number who ran their own businesses. The aim of the research, described broadly as ‘the story of your stammer’, was discussed with each of the participants prior to their involvement. This discussion was integral to the ethical research process and ensured they were aware of the focus of the study and the processes which would surround their involvement. All were given the opportunity to ask questions, verbally or textually, and were expressly assured that their identifying details would be removed from the data. This negotiated process of anonymising the data led to participants being classified by age group and gender only. In presenting the data they are numbered within these categories for purposes of differentiation. Semi-structured interviews were chosen because they offer a guiding framework while also appreciating that each individual will have their own story to tell (Patton, 2002). However, due to the nature of the research and its participants the ability to engage in a structured conversation was sometimes not easy, and participants’ needs were paramount and considered throughout. In flexing to circumstance, for example, two participants asked to be told the questions in advance so that they could prepare. Another requested that he be allowed to speak without being asked any questions as he found uninterrupted talk more comfortable. He was then asked supplementary questions at the end of his initial verbal presentation. The interviews averaged 1 h in length and took place by telephone or face-to-face. Handwritten notes were taken during the telephone interviews and were transferred to a typed format immediately after the interview. Face-to-face interviews were digitally recorded with the permission of the participant and were transcribed verbatim. The focus groups lasted an average of 75 min and took the form of a ‘speaking circle’ where participants were asked to discuss their stammer and how being a person who stammers had impacted on their lives. Notes were taken throughout these sessions. Alongside, they were digitally recorded with the permission of attendees and then all data transcribed. Data analysis centred on the perceived impact of being a person who stammers and how participants spoke of their stammer in terms of its effect on their behaviour, feelings and activities in a range of contexts. The data were analysed using a grounded approach that underscored the emergent themes. Each transcript was first analysed individually, this involved fragmenting and coding the data and then reviewing and working with the emergent codes to create abstract categories that fit the data (Charmaz, 2011). This individual analysis was part of an iterative process which involved returning to previously analysed transcripts, making cross-transcript comparisons, and, if necessary, revising the codes to reflect the data (Miles & Huberman, 1994). This reciprocal process elucidated the primary themes and led to the final categorisation. The commentary below focuses on participants’ experiences of their time in education and is presented under the categories which led from the above analysis. 3. Stammering through education This section presents findings drawn from the conversations detailed above; specifically, it describes the way in which education was experienced as a person who stammers. Responses are reported within the sub-themes of friends and family; school and teachers; other advisors; and higher education. There are a number of extended abstracts used in presenting the

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findings, they remain complete as they offer rich data and inform our understanding. Also, this presentation offers participants an opportunity to be ‘heard’ in ways they are not typically afforded. Participants’ stories are underpinned by one consistent message: ‘school was a sodding nightmare, an absolute sodding nightmare’ (M1, 30–39). Other participants commented in much the same vein: ‘I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, what I went through’ (M1, 50–59); ‘it was tough, yeah it was. Couldn’t wait to leave, got out as soon as I could’ (F1, 20–29); and ‘I left last year it was like a weight was lifted’ (M1, under 20). Many of the contexts which led to these feelings will be described below but the emotion summoned in recalling their school days was audible and visible: invoking distress as well as anger. 3.1. Friends and family A number of participants reported difficulty in fitting in with the other children at school. Male respondents particularly described ‘not being part of the gang’ (M1, 40–49) or ‘the one that was picked for the team’ (M2, 30–39). They also spoke of not having close friendships: ‘it was isolating I used to sit and read or just hang about’ (M1, 20–29). This isolation has been reflected in prior research where children who stammer were found to be rejected more often by their peers (Davis, Howell, & Cooke, 2002). However, this was not always the case and was different for the female participants who all reported having ‘strong and close friendships with one or two girls at school’ (F2, 50–59). The male participants noted that friendships were typically made outside of the school environment, and most commonly at sports clubs. Having a sibling at the same school brought mixed comments, some reported their help in developing relationships while others found ‘he just used to pretend he didn’t know me, you know he was popular at school, outgoing like and so I guess now I can understand it he didn’t want the same treatment as me and he was just a kid too wasn’t he?’ (M3, 30–39). Moving to the wider family, participants spoke of their support as being largely ineffective. This comment was often quickly followed by a note of their being ill-equipped: ‘my mother didn’t have a clue how to handle it at all . . . although I don’t know what she could have done or my Dad. I mean what can anyone do?’ (M2, 40–49). The lack of control and an inability to manage or otherwise limit the negative impact of their stammer was a concern at home, and yet was consistently not talked about within the family where the ‘tactic was ignore it, it may just go away’ (M5, 30–39). In sum, the effect of having a stammer on relationships during their schooldays received mixed comments. However, there was a consistency in that even for those participants who reported good relationships with family or friends their stammer was not discussed. This silence resulted in them experiencing an underlying feeling of isolation as their stammer was ‘a no go area for conversation not at home, with friends or at school’ (M4, 40–49). This led to little or, more commonly, no discussion of the impact of their stammer on their educational experience. 3.2. School and teachers Participants moved onto describe the events or circumstances which made their school days most difficult: ‘teachers’ was the resounding response (M, under 20; M, 30–39 * 3; M, 40–49; M, 60–69; M, 80–89; F, 20–29 and F, 30–39). There followed a series of stories which had a recurring theme, spanning six decades of educational practice. The theme which dominated their accounts related to the refusal of teachers to make allowances for participants’ stammers. For example, one participant noted ‘my English teacher still asked me to read out, even though I asked her not to’ (M4, 30–39). Another participant recalled the actions of one teacher: ‘he made me take part in the school play, I was so nervous I threw up and he still didn’t let me leave’ (M6, 40–49). One interviewee struggled to hide his anger and upset when he described an incident at school when he was around eleven years of age: ‘I know teachers have a lot of their plate and we were a class of thirty odd but to be put at the back, to be told to try and keep up as if you were thick and to be left to it was so. . . well I don’t know what the word is I just felt invisible. But there again there seemed to be no happy medium because others [teachers] would ask you to read out [loud] in class and just allow you to struggle through each effing word. I remember when I was in a real block, when I was part way through reading, the teacher told me to come to the front and to start again. The class was laughing at me and when I turned to look so was he’ (M1, 30–39). All participants stated that their stammer had impacted on their ability to engage with their learning, they reported this occurred in a number of ways. First, and by far the most common theme, participants talked of a constant anxiety: ‘it wasn’t so much being asked to do it [read out loud or speak], it was about spending every bloody day worrying that you would be asked’ (M6, 30–39). The impact of the fear of speaking meant that many participants excluded themselves physically, emotionally or cognitively. The effect on interviewees is highlighted in a number of their comments: ‘I spent the whole time in school trying to avoid speaking, meant I learnt nothing’ (M9, 40–49); ‘I was so tense I think I must have had a headache every day’ (F1, 50–59); ‘I just felt sick all the time’ (M1, 20–29); ‘I sat at the back and kept my head down’ (M1, 60–69); ‘I sat there thinking all the time don’t ask me, don’t ask me’ (M1, 80–89). What is striking is that all participants said that they asked their teachers to be excused from reading aloud or being asked questions in class and yet this was rarely done. Only one participant said that their school supported their request. At a focus group there was a discussion of the refusal of educators to offer what one teacher had termed ‘special treatment’ (M6, 40– 49). Participants reported that their teachers appeared to not believe them and ‘saw it as another ploy’ (M8, 40–49), but as one remarked ‘surely their ears would have told them we weren’t lying’ (M3, 30–39). One group member commented that a

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relative had recently visited his son’s school for this same reason and was told that ‘no concessions would be made because we treat all the children the same’ (M7, 40–49). Second, participants spoke of how their educational experience was hampered by their inability to ask questions in class, and with no other mechanism being offered other than verbal communication. As one participant stated, ‘if I didn’t know what was going on, I couldn’t ask a question so my schools days were wasted really’ (M2, 40–49). In describing this context they referred to their inability to assume the normal role of student. They considered that this inhibited the teachers in assuming their normal role as teacher: this contextual alignment between student and teacher has been termed classroom identity formation (Castanheira, Green, Dixon, & Yeagerb, 2007). Participants often spoke of their misalignment in terms of rules of the classroom where their enforced spatial positioning, such as their physical exclusion to the back of the class, upset the ‘natural’ hierarchy and that this differed from their peers who chose their seats and thus their place: I don’t know why I was told to sit at the back because the mouthy kids sat at the back, the ones who messed about. The clever ones sat at the front and so I didn’t have a chance at the back. I was with a different set. Also because I was put at the back and the teacher always stood at the front if I had’ve plucked up courage to ask something everyone would’ve heard (M10, 40–49). Third, alongside the formal learning experiences, participants spoke of their exclusion from some extra-curricular activities including plays, events and school clubs. This exclusion many felt restricted their ability to learn about teamwork and interpersonal interaction, sometimes labelled the class community of practice (Brown, 2007). They repeatedly described being in a ‘backstage’ role (M9, 40–49) or ‘not in the picture’ (F1, 30–39). This was sometimes their choice but equally often was on the instruction of the teacher. Yet, in this regard one participant described the teacher as ‘being between a rock and a hard place, I mean what should she have done made me leading man’ (M2, 50–59). However, this exclusion from communal activities was a regular occurrence and was often self-perpetuating as it only served to heighten their isolation from the decision-making processes that were part of class events. One participant reflected on the impact of this exclusion, he noted his lack of understanding of the ‘political and give and take, the negotiation of working together . . . I never got a chance to learn that and it’s so important’ (M9, 40–49). Others also described missing out on opportunities to develop skills in persuading and negotiating with others. Alongside it was noted that because friendships were made in these settings they were again ‘set apart’ (M3, 50–59) from their peers. For many participants it was activities outside of the normal classroom environment which gave them their strongest sense of belonging and raised their self-esteem. A number reported that taking part in practical subjects allowed them to ‘talk in other ways, in art I could talk in pictures’ (M3, 30–39). As another participant described: ‘[during] woodwork it was like look see what I can do. I could be good. I was allowed to be good at something. I could help the others, they came to me. It was the best hour of the week’ (M11, 40–49). The positive impact of taking part in sport was also a recurrent theme: ‘football saved my life I think at primary school. Out on the field I was free from it, I was the top goal scorer and that gave me the respect of the other boys. I can’t tell you how important it was to be able to be good at something’ (M2, 30–39). Participants typically described the impact of teachers in negative terms; however, this was not always the case as the extended extract below highlights: ‘We had a new science teacher part way through comp [comprehensive school]. The other one retired or something thank God, he was hard as hell. A stereotypical school master type would point at you and say ‘‘You boy what’s the answer to. . .’’ and when I started stammering it out he’d say ‘‘We haven’t got all day boy’’ or something like that. Humiliation constantly, I hated him but I loved science. The new teacher was amazing, the best ever. He knew I had a stammer and called me back at the end of one of his first lessons, he asked me what help I was getting I said nothing. He asked me what I needed him to do for me. I mean I was so shocked I don’t think I said anything in particular. But then because I didn’t answer he asked me to think about it, come back the next day and to make a list so we could discuss it. It was amazing. . . it um. . .. it makes me quite. . . um. . . emotional to think about it now. I was what fourteen and he was the first teacher to talk to me about my stammer. Saved my life I think cos the rest of my time in school was hell, you can’t imagine. I went onto do ‘A’ levels in the sciences. He told me to make sure I got my message across in whatever way I needed to. I remember him saying that I had as much right to an education as anyone else but that I had to make sure I got it. I guess he moved half way, made me do my bit too . . .an amazing guy. . . saved my life’ (M8, 40-49). In sum, when participants describe their experiences of school the words ‘tension’ and ‘worry’ frequently appear. This is often related directly with their concern of being called upon to speak and this anxiety overrode their ability to engage with their learning. The refusal of teachers to respond to their requests for support was reported by all but one participant. This action resulted in anger and/or upset. Another theme which emerged related to their inability to engage in the question and answer that is typical to the student–educator dynamic: limiting their ability to clarify areas of their studies where they were unclear. A number of participants described being moved in the classroom, often to the back, where they felt they were outside of their ‘natural’ place in the class hierarchy. They also described not being included within collective events which hampered their ability to develop team working, interpersonal and political skills. However, sport and other activities in which speech was not an integral part offered participants the opportunity to demonstrate their abilities and gain selfesteem. Together with parents and educators, there were two other groups that participants referred to as part of their educational experiences: speech therapists and career advisors.

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3.3. Other advisors Most participants attended speech therapy during their school days. Responses to the sessions were mixed with some declaring them ‘useless’ (M1, 20–29; M2, 40–49 and M4, 50–59) but others stating they ‘couldn’t have got through without them’ (M3, 30–39) and speech therapists were regarded as a ‘life line’ (M5, 30–39). As they moved towards the end of their general school education most participants talked of feeling an increased pressure to be fluent in their speech, combined with a fear of the future and of ‘not knowing what I could possibly do’ (M3, 40–49). The majority of participants reported that they had a poor level of academic achievement. In considering their future and the careers advice they received, one participant relayed an experience that was typical: ‘Careers advice was interesting, I was told to develop a practical skill and that it was my only chance of getting a job. I was in the room five minutes, if that. She had never met me before. She asked my name and when I stammered well that was it she didn’t ask me what I was good at or what I wanted to do’ (M1, 50–59). Being labelled in a negative and stereotypical manner, considered as lacking in intelligence or academic ability while at school was common as another recalls: ‘I remember when the careers teacher came to the school my form teacher asked me if I particularly wanted to see them as I’d probably end up doing something in a factory or manual work or something like that. There’s little wonder that I came out of school feeling useless and hopeless’ (M2, 30–39). This feeling of hopelessness at the end of their school days was widespread (also Fisher & Harnisch, 1989) and for many had removed any notion of career or educational aspiration. 3.4. Higher education Their limited qualifications combined with, and arguably related to, their negative experiences at school reduced the likelihood of them being able (or wanting) to enter higher education. In responding to the question of whether they moved onto further education, ‘University? . . .hell no! I shook all the way through school [with fear of speaking] I wasn’t going to volunteer for more of that’ (M4, 30–39) sums up the most frequent response. Examples of other replies, which are representative, include: ‘No way’ (M3, 40–49); ‘No, absolutely not’ (F2, 20–29); ‘School was bad enough’ (M2, 20–29); ‘I just couldn’t have thought of it. No. No. . . I just couldn’t have’ (F2, 30–39). The negative impact of their school experiences often precluded any consideration of continuing their studies beyond this time. However this was not the case for all, those who attended university (five out of the thirty-eight participants) spoke of their time at university in positive terms. Yet, they typically described themselves within an academic frame, as students who ‘worked hard’ (M8, 30–39) and were ‘always reading or in the library’ (M5, 40–49). There were no accounts of the wider student experience with stories of isolated activities being more common. Of those participants who attended higher education, not one reported their stammer on their admission form or to anyone within the university: thus, stammering remains for many an unseen disability (as in the wider context of education as discussed by Richardson, 2009). They reported this omission was either due to their fear that they would not receive a place (also Vickerman & Blundell, 2010) or because they did not consider their stammer a ‘real disability’ (M6, 30–39). In addition, as another participant noted: ‘what could they have done anyway? With dyslexia someone can take notes or you can get extra time in the exams but with a stammer – I’m not saying it’s worse than other things but – I just don’t see what the university could have done. I just kept my head down, got by, got a degree, and got out’ (M7, 30–39). Hence, having a stammer impacted on participants’ ability to receive an education at university in much the same way as school. This included an inability to ask questions or clarify learning points, but the setting differed in that they were often part of a larger cohort. Participants spoke of how they enjoyed the relative anonymity afforded to them at university where the fear of speaking was reduced and they were ‘better able to hide’ (M5, 40–49) from the pressure to interact that they had experienced in the smaller classes at school. However, there were other aspects of university life, specifically seminar discussions and oral presentations, where they did experience difficulties but in the context of higher education they ‘simply didn’t turn up to those classes and got marked down’ (M4, 40–49). They reported that they either worked harder on other areas to compensate or achieved a lower grade degree. When subjected to further exploration then, the positive university experience that participants initially described is probably better regarded as an ‘easier exercise in avoidance’ (M5, 40–49). Other ways in which they managed higher education as a person who stammers was to choose courses that they considered would require less interaction, as one participant noted: ‘I looked and thought right where will I have to talk the least’ (M4, 40–49) (also Fuller et al., 2004). Irrespective of their chosen degree, group work was often integral to their course. Participants stated that being effective in collaborative tasks was increasingly important, both at university and the workplace. One participant who reported that his stammer had little impact on his time at university or at school spoke of his experience of group work: I can’t remember much about my time at school, it was largely uneventful I was quiet obviously but no my stammer didn’t really have much of an effect. I wasn’t bullied or anything so school was fine. Yeah I went onto university, it was okay too no real problems there either. Actually the only thing I struggled with, nothing to do with my speech though,

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but I struggled with this one course which was based on a joint project. I found it really difficult to find my feet in that course. I remember finding that hard, working on a team project as I say nothing to do with my speech sorry but I never seemed to be able to sort out where I fitted. Don’t know why I thought of that then (M8, 30–39). In referring to himself as ‘quiet obviously’ he demonstrates that he avoided interaction, as many participants, but he spoke of this as if natural for a person with a stammer. He also comments that his stammer resulted in no negative effects. However, in referring to his struggle with collaborative work he went onto describe how he continues to find this difficult in the workplace. Despite his statement that this is ‘nothing’ to do with his speech when considered alongside other participants’ comments of their being excluded from collective activities at school, and how they felt that this has impaired their ability to develop the political and negotiating skills required for effective collaboration, then this may shed some light on his difficulty. 4. Discussion and conclusions There is recognition of the rights of students with disabilities to enjoy equality of access to, and experience of, an education. This starts with an effective general education and moves through to widening participation in higher education. This article adds to the body of work in the education field by considering disabled students who entered the higher education system but also takes an unconventional approach in considering another group – those disabled students who never arrived. This article is grounded in a qualitative research project and draws on data from semi-structured interviews and focus groups which explored the experiences of thirty-eight people who stammer from the time they started stammering through to their time in the workplace. Given the biographic approach participants were called to describe their educational experiences but this was not the sole research focus. Yet, the emergent data and emotive responses aired during the discussions identified that these experiences have for many had a lasting, significant and often detrimental impact. This includes a participant of nearly ninety years of age who remains angry and upset when discussing his time in education, he stated: ‘I just hope to God it’s different now’. Participants consistently reported that school was an extremely difficult time. However, differing from much prior research published in the speech and language literature, peers were not the main cause of their difficulty. The widespread declaration that education was a ‘nightmare’ due to the actions of the teachers was both a surprise and a concern given its prevalence. Participants reported that the behaviour of teachers varied between those who would purposefully taunt them, ignore a request for differing treatment, through to those who physically excluded them to the back of the class. These were not tales from the distant past, participants under the age of thirty reported very similar treatment to those over sixty years of age. These experiences had a direct and detrimental impact on participants’ learning experience; educational achievement; and their subsequent ‘choice’ of whether to move onto higher education. 4.1. Educational and social exclusion Whether stammering is a disability or an impairment caused division among participants, but with a majority supporting the social model of disability (Hughes & Paterson, 1997) which proposes that disabled people are people with impairments who are disabled by their environment. Related to the earlier discussion, this study suggests that the disabling effect of the learning environment for many people who stammer can turn their speech impairment into a chronic state of social exclusion. The European Commission defines social exclusion as follows: Social exclusion refers to the multiple and changing factors resulting in people being excluded from the normal exchanges, practices and rights of modern society. Poverty is one of the most obvious factors, but social exclusion also refers to inadequate rights in housing, education, health and access to services. It affects individuals and groups [. . .] who are in some way subject to discrimination or segregation; and it emphasises the weaknesses in the social infrastructure and the risk of allowing a two-tier society to become established by default (Commission of the European Communities, 1993, p. 1). The present research highlights the potential for social exclusion for people who have a stammer, specifically their right to an integrative and inclusive education. Findings report the importance of friendships, which might have been anticipated, but participants also described the negative impact of not being embedded in the network of the educational environment. Their displacement emerged as a significant theme where vital life lessons were missed (also see Gibson, 2012), and has resulted in a number of participants experiencing difficulties in engaging in group work (also Healey, Bradley, Fuller, & Hall, 2006). These skills are much needed in everyday civic life but also in the workplace (Gillies, 2003). In summarising the main findings from this research, Reimer’s (2004) dimensions of social exclusion are used as a supporting framework. Table 1 details the factors which this research suggests may result in educational and social exclusion for people who stammer. The implications of stammering on educational and social exclusion as suggested by this research are shown in Table 1 over four dimensions. The characteristics of each dimension are now briefly reviewed: (a) market – exclusion from the educational marketplace limits students’ ability to gain knowledge plus it impairs their capacity to hone skills of bargaining and negotiation; (b) bureaucratic – roles exist in the classroom community of practice: between educator and student and between students. Classroom practices are interrupted when communication channels are weakened or differ from the

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Table 1 Implications of stammering on educational and social exclusion. Dimension of social exclusion

Present research suggests

Possible implications for educational and social exclusion

Market (terms of exchange)

Reduced interaction between educator and student who stammers Restricted communication with peers

Limits knowledge exchange - educational underachievement Low transfer of life and workplace skills - negative impact on social wellbeing Reduced opportunity for progression into further or higher education - limiting opportunities for the labour market and economic wellbeing

Bureaucratic (roles and rules)

Inability to assume student role as generally perceived and to align to the ‘typical’ rules of classroom conduct Spatial segregation

Outside of hierarchical structures developed with educators and peer group - group displacement - reduced opportunity to develop political and negotiation skills

Associative (shared interests)

Low involvement in structured extra-curricular events and activities

Limited interaction with peer group - loss of shared identity Restricting opportunity to develop ability for teamwork, vital life skills - negative impact on social wellbeing Reduced development of close friendships

Communal (grouping/classification)

Subject to negative stereotyping Minimal encouragement towards higher education Low level career goals transmitted via educators

Detrimental impact on mental and physical wellbeing Reduced self-esteem and confidence Reduced aspiration for higher education or future career

norm. The hierarchical roles among the peer group are also disrupted when students’ physical location in the classroom is imposed externally; (c) associative –detachment from peer groups as they pursue joint goals prevents the development of a shared identity. Exclusion from associates in their mutual endeavours also limits students’ ability to become skilled at teamwork; and (d) communal – linking with the last – segregation encourages negative stereotyping with this having a detrimental impact on self-esteem, wellbeing and aspiration. All higher education institutions in the UK state that admissions are considered on academic merit. For many students this statement, with its air of equality, fails to reflect the barriers they encounter: the story of their passage through the education system is far more complex. This research suggests that the challenge for widening access to higher education for those who have a stammer, however, is not to be underestimated. A number of the interconnected issues set here within the context of stammering may apply equally to other student groups. First, some, although of course not all, will not have achieved their academic potential and may not have the qualifications for entrance to higher education (or reduced grades as per those with dyslexia see Richardson, 2009). Second, yet equally as challenging, based on the data from this study many people who stammer will not want to continue their time in the educational environment and enter university. Third, opinion is divided on whether stammering is a ‘real disability’ (participant)- also found among those with other hidden disabilities (Olney & Kim, 2001)- and so people who stammer may not declare their stammer on the university admission form. Fourth, relating to the last, some people who stammer fear that declaring their stammer may prevent their gaining a place at university. Fifth, and finally, many people who stammer go to great lengths to appear fluent in speech (termed covert or interiorised stammerers), encouraging them to highlight their stammer will be difficult. Given this series of not insignificant challenges, and the placement of higher education at the ‘mercy’ of the general education system, are there any policy moves that could be made. The answer to this question is – a diplomatic – yes. There is an opportunity for higher education to affect a pull policy change rather than reacting to a general school system push. In the UK at the end of 2011, the British Stammering Association (BSA) launched a campaign in which they called for children who stammer to produce a speech passport which details their specific communication abilities, challenges and needs. This passport follows the child through school, being adapted as necessary, and helps with the transition between classes and particularly between schools, often a challenging time (Anderson, Jacobs, Schramm, & Splittgerber, 2000) and especially challenging for disabled children (Tinklin & Hall, 1999). This policy has yet to be adopted, but if progressed then a summary of this passport could be considered alongside other documentation for entrance into higher education. The nature of this document if developed with the input of people who stammer, involving future and current students (Redpath, Kearney, Nicholl, Mulvenna, Wallace, & Martin, 2012), and the support of the BSA and other worldwide stammering associations, could put higher education at the leading edge of policy change for widening access for people who stammer rather than as a reactor. Beyond the specifics of people who stammer, the findings and recommendations following this research align with prior studies regarding the needs of disabled students. To be clear, their needs are not about ‘special treatment’ (comment made to participant); rather, what is required is a sense of inclusivity in the educational environment. This inclusivity ‘is not only about meeting the requirements of disability discrimination law. It should be about enhancing the student learning

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experience, cancelling out distinctions, removing ghettoising ‘barriers’’ (Madriaga, Hanson, Heaton, Kay, Newitt, & Walker, 2010, p. 656). There needs to be flexibility in the delivery and nature of teaching approaches but also in assessment: one size does not fit all whether disabled or non-disabled (Fuller et al., 2004). The findings of this research also highlight that the beliefs and behaviours of educators has a significant role in creating this inclusive environment (Tinklin et al., 2004). As noted by one participant, a single positive encounter between student and teacher can be transformative. Finally, in seeking to answer my question: should parents of children who stammer fear for their educational prospects, specifically their ability to progress into higher education? The findings of this research highlight that they should be aware of the risks of a ‘tactic of silence’ and maintain a dialogue with the school, the speech therapist and the child. There is a clear and present danger of children who stammer being subject to a series of contextual influences within the school environment which can impair their educational chances and progression onto higher education. Considering these influences in terms of both educational and social exclusion, as shown in Table 1, highlights the possible long-term detrimental implications of inaction. In order to offer practical lessons as a result of this research I asked participants to suggest if they were an educator what they would do to best ensure that their students’ experiences of education were positive. They provided a number of suggestions, as follows: (a) invite students to discuss any personal challenges they may encounter in the classroom; (b) be open to this and other conversations via verbal or textual means; (c) if requested by a student to make reasonable adjustments to the classroom interaction, such as being called upon to avoid asking a student to speak in class, every effort should be made to do so. Participants consistently reported that the fear of being asked to speak at school was extremely debilitating and significantly hampered their ability to engage with their learning; and (d) seek out to offer support to those students who have a stammer (much in the same way that one participant described); that is, do not ignore the stammer, avoid silence, and ask the student what support they need. Additionally, a number of participants referred to the need for people who stammer to fight for their right to an education. 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