In a continuation of our discussion about how Barton and Megan speak in public, or how much Megan translates for Barton, here’s Megan’s perspective:
The first time I talked to Barton on the phone, I tried so hard to understand every word Barton said, but inevitably most of our conversations were filled with, “What?” or “Can you say that again?” I felt so bad, and sometimes I would try to pretend I understood when I didn’t. Barton saw through my pretense right away. But it didn’t seem to faze him to repeat his words, as many times as I needed. If I didn’t get a sentence or word one way, he would try to say it another.
Before long, we didn’t have to speak because that intuitive line between us took over as our relationship grew deeper. There were times where it was hard for me to keep my mouth shut when someone asked Barton a question, because I could get Barton’s speech right away, especially if it was a joke. But we both know how important it is for Barton to speak for himself.
In Barton’s last blog, Barton mentioned this line of communication that can skewed when one speaks for another. I saw this first hand when one of our close friends asked Barton a question and then looked straight away at me to interpret Barton’s answer. This is when we began to talk about how the line of communication gets interrupted when I would speak for Barton all of the time.
And, there are times when I get it wrong. At our book launch, I talked about how I normally get about 90-95% of what Barton’s saying. But—when we get into discussions or an argument, I understand about 5%. All of a sudden I can’t hear Barton, and I would tell you that I honestly couldn’t understand him. But it’s actually me, how I listen. Obviously in these places, I am too wrapped up in my own agenda or point to slow down and hear him. I admit, in these places, I have a big mouth.
When we are speaking in public, we vary whether or not I translate for Barton depending on the audience, the location, what our goals are, and what we hope to get across. For example, an an Open Mic, Barton has asked to read poetry on his own so he can explore with his poetry, whereas in a networking event where it may be crowded and loud, I may repeat what Barton says more often. We’re still exploring this very fluid and dynamic sense of expression.
In general, when we mention that it’s okay not to get every word, and invite others to listen to Barton’s intent instead, people understand Barton better. Does it have to do with how hard we strain to get every syllable, and in giving permission to say it’s okay if you don’t understand, we hear more openly? I don’t know.
No two voices are the same! We’ve received several questions about computer board; if it’s hard, why doesn’t Barton use a computer board. While he’ll have to answer to that, what I can speak to is how I work with several writing clients who use augmentative devices or computer boards to speak. On the one hand, it is incredibly freeing to speak on one’s own voice, especially in communicating needs and wants or advocating for oneself. On the other, in general, computer boards are incredibly slow and limited in word choice.
If you have seven words to describe everything you did today—what would you say; if there were eight pages to find lists of words, how long would it take to find the one word you are looking for; or if it took you fifteen minutes to spell out a sentence, would you remember the first word you began with by the time you got to the end?
My guess is that Barton’s language was too expansive, and he was too determined (ie stubborn) to speak solely by computer. And I’m excited for that, after all, we both love the spoken and written language, not only in letters but also in rhythm, tone, and cadence. What an honor it is to slow down in gratitude everyday, and have an opportunity to really hear what someone else is saying—beyond the letters.