The Time He Gave: Remembering Alan Rogers
Some people leave their mark through what they achieve. Others leave it through what they give to other people.
For those of us who knew Alan Rogers through The McGuire Programme, Alan gave a great deal.
On a recent McGuire Programme course in the UK, a new tradition was introduced: the Alan Rogers McGuire Programme Table Topics Challenge Trophy, an annual competition created in Alan’s memory.
Seeing his name engraved on that trophy brought back a lot of memories for me because although Alan and I never actually met in person, over a period of around three years I got to know him incredibly well.
And like so many others within the Programme, I benefited enormously from his knowledge, his kindness and, perhaps most of all, his time.
Alan knew the Programme inside out
Alan had worked incredibly hard to gain control over his own stutter. Having experienced that change himself, he became passionate about helping other people who stutter to do the same.
His knowledge of The McGuire Programme was extraordinary.
With the possible exception of Dave McGuire himself, Alan had one of the most encyclopaedic understandings of the Programme material I have ever come across.
He had read Beyond Stuttering: The McGuire Programme for Getting Good at the Sport of Speaking many, many times.
You could be discussing a particular aspect of the Programme and Alan would immediately know what you were talking about, how it connected with other parts of the material and often exactly where to find it in the book.
Sometimes it seemed he barely needed to open it.
But what struck me wasn’t simply how much Alan knew.
It was what he did with that knowledge.
There was never any arrogance about him. He didn’t share his knowledge to demonstrate how much he knew. He shared it because he genuinely wanted to help the person in front of him.
And he was incredibly generous with it.
He always had time
One of Alan’s greatest gifts was time.
If you were talking to Alan, you had his attention.
He would listen. He would encourage you. He would share his own experience. If something needed discussing, he would give it the time it deserved.
That matters within a programme like ours.
Changing the way you speak and communicate isn’t achieved simply by learning a few techniques. It requires work, discipline and a willingness to face situations that may have been feared or avoided for years.
Alan understood that because he had done the work himself.
He knew what it meant to struggle with a stutter, and he knew what it took to fight back against the behaviours, fears and avoidances that can develop around it.
When he helped someone, he wasn’t talking from theory alone.
He could say, in effect: I’ve been there. I’ve done the work. Change is possible. Now let’s get to work.
More than 400 Coffee Mornings
My own friendship with Alan developed in circumstances none of us could have predicted.
During the pandemic, when courses, support meetings and much of everyday life suddenly moved online, I set up an online Coffee Morning.
The idea was simple: give people somewhere to meet, talk and stay connected.
Alan joined.
And kept joining.
So did I.
Over approximately three years, Alan and I became the two constants of those Coffee Mornings. Neither of us missed a session.
By the time it eventually came to an end, we had attended more than 400 Coffee Mornings together.
Four hundred-plus mornings.
When I look back at that number now, it seems extraordinary.
And they certainly weren’t 400 conversations purely about stuttering.
We talked about The McGuire Programme, coaching, speaking, psychology and the book. We discussed different ideas, challenged each other’s thinking and inevitably wandered off in all sorts of directions.
We talked about life.
We talked about whatever was happening in the world.
And we talked about all things wonderful and weird.
That was part of the joy of it.
People came and went over those three years, but Alan was always there.
Week after week. Month after month. Year after year.
And despite all those conversations, Alan and I never once sat in the same physical room together.
We never shook hands.
We never actually sat across a table and had a coffee.
Yet over those four years, I got to know him extremely well.
Friendship doesn’t necessarily depend upon geography.
More than 400 mornings together had taken care of that.
The Coffee Morning workshops
Alan didn’t just turn up for the conversation.
He also hosted several special Coffee Morning workshops, sometimes attended by more than 30 people.
Those workshops demonstrated exactly why Alan was so highly regarded.
He could take his enormous knowledge of the Programme and make it relevant to the people listening.
He wasn’t interested in showing people how much he knew. He wanted to give them something they could take away and use.
Perhaps something that would help them understand an aspect of their stutter differently.
Perhaps something that would help them challenge an avoidance.
Perhaps something that would encourage them to pick up the phone, speak to someone, practise harder or stop backing away from a difficult situation.
Alan wanted people to succeed.
It really was as simple as that.
After Alan passed away
Alan’s passing left a very noticeable gap.
The Coffee Morning continued for a while, but eventually we brought it to an end. Work commitments had increased, circumstances had changed and, after four years, perhaps it had naturally run its course.
But it also wasn’t quite the same without Alan.
When someone has been there week after week, hundreds of times, you notice when they’re suddenly no longer there.
I still think about those mornings.
Not necessarily any particular conversation. Often it’s simply the accumulated memory of seeing the same familiar face appear on the screen and wondering where the conversation would take us that morning.
He is sadly missed.
A new tradition in Alan’s name
Which brings us to the recent UK course and the introduction of the Alan Rogers McGuire Programme Table Topics Challenge Trophy.
It is difficult to think of a more appropriate way to remember him.
Table Topics puts a speaker on the spot.
You have to stand up, think on your feet and communicate without having every word planned in advance.
The competition encourages clarity, good delivery, audience engagement, creativity, impact and timing. Speakers are encouraged to bring energy, humour, storytelling and originality to what they do.
And there was an additional challenge: incorporating random words into the speech along the way.
It isn’t about perfection.
It’s about thinking quickly, dealing with the unexpected, speaking eloquently and maintaining control while bringing your personality to what you’re saying.
Alan would have appreciated that.
Everyone who took part in the inaugural competition spoke eloquently and with control.
And the first winner of the Alan Rogers Trophy was Charlotte, who gave a fantastic speech about her hobbies while brilliantly handling the additional challenge of incorporating the random words she was given.
Congratulations, Charlotte. 🏆
You now have the distinction of being the first winner of a trophy that will hopefully carry Alan’s name for many years to come.
People will continue to say his name
There is something I particularly like about creating a trophy in someone’s memory.
People will continue to say his name.
Next year, the trophy will come out again.
There will be another competition. New speeches. New challenges. Another winner.
And as the years pass, there will inevitably be McGuire Programme members who see the engraving and ask:
Who was Alan Rogers?
Those of us who knew him will be able to answer.
We can tell them about the man who worked incredibly hard to gain control over his own stutter and then devoted so much of his time to helping others do the same.
We can tell them about his remarkable knowledge of the Programme.
We can tell them about his kindness and humility.
I can tell them about more than 400 Coffee Mornings.
About the workshops.
About the conversations.
About all things wonderful and weird.
And about a friendship that developed over four years between two people who somehow never actually met in person.
The time he gave
When I think about Alan now, his knowledge certainly stands out.
But knowledge can be acquired.
Books can be read and reread. Techniques can be learned. Experience can be accumulated.
Time is different.
Time is finite.
And Alan gave an extraordinary amount of his to other people.
Every person he coached. Every person he encouraged. Every workshop he delivered. Every conversation where somebody needed help. Every morning he logged on simply to be there.
He gave people his time because helping them mattered to him.
That, more than anything, is what I remember.
The Alan Rogers Trophy will now pass from one winner to another. Different people will hold it. Different names will be associated with it. There will be different speeches and plenty of stories along the way.
But one name will always remain engraved on the front:
Alan Rogers.
And those of us who knew him will know exactly what that name represents.
Knowledge. Humility. Kindness. Commitment.
And time, given generously to others.
Alan – this one’s for you. 🏆