Welcome to Magic Pebble Speech & Art! I'm Betsy, the "art" part of us. I get to tell you how we got our name.
An art teacher walks into a speech therapist's office. One wall is floor to ceiling board games. Another holds 500+ picture books. Toys line another wall, and I mean good ones: an ice cream cone station, mini-kitchen, Cars. Trucks. Above them, a hand-painted Pete the Cat hangs out while another beloved picture book character, Naked Mole Rat, holds up a shirt, contemplating becoming not naked.
By the door, Sylvester, from William Steig's 1969 Caldecott award-winning classic, gazes at his magic pebble. He does not yet know it's magic. Here's how it is magic: When he holds it, it will turn him into whatever he wishes to be. (Sylvester made the unfortunate wish to turn into a rock, and you will have to read the book to find out how that went for him.)
The art teacher goes, "You've got Sylvester on your wall!"
The speech therapist goes, "You recognize him!"
The art teacher, who also happens to be a children's poet and picture book junkie, goes, "Of course! I love Sylvester!"
The speech therapist goes, "The magic pebble is like a metaphor for what happens in here. Speech therapy can be whatever you want it to be."
Magic Pebble, they both thought. That's a good name.
That was January 2024. I'd known Michelle since 2014, when I brought my youngest son to her after the public school system refused to help him, not once but twice, because his articulation difficulties weren't affecting his grades. He was in kindergarten. Among other things, my five-year-old took the "s" off the front of every "s" word. He was struggling socially because other kids couldn't understand him or figure out from context what he was saying, like the teachers could.
I sat in Michelle's waiting room through the session listening to the sound of laughter through the window separating waiting room and office, and I knew something good was happening. After a week or two, my son was saying his s's consistently. I will never forget the proud day he earned a certificate naming him the World Champion at Monopoly Junior. Along the way, he battled Michelle over many a game board, practiced some exercises at home, and mastered his w's, p's, f-blends, and r's. He didn't need speech therapy anymore, but I missed going to Michelle's little wonderland.
I'd wished for a few years to spend more time illustrating. So when she reached out and proposed combining our skills to develop fun, effective speech therapy materials, I was all in. She'll be posting regularly about how she uses the materials. I'll be adding art projects for home, school, and therapy settings.
And just remember: if you visit Michelle's office, don't make a wish that you're a rock. It might come true.
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