Inside this CSULB clinic, real-time coaching readies future speech therapists
The words wouldn't come.
In a small room at Cal State Long Beach's Speech and Language Clinic, a stroke survivor — once a corporate executive — tried to name the title he’d held and the company he’d led.
Across from him, Emily Paek, then a graduate clinician in speech-language pathology, watched his foot tap under the table as sweat gathered on his brow. “He knew what he wanted to say,” Paek ’25 recalled. “It just wasn’t coming out.”
A camera in the corner fed the session to faculty. Paek paused. She knew the grade would come later; for now, she wanted to help.
Scenes like this are the clinic’s everyday work. One of a handful of publicly facing pro bono programs at The Beach, it offers free services with major support from the California Scottish Rite Foundation. A typical term sees roughly 30 to 50 clients “as young as 2 all the way to 99,” said Speech-Language Pathology Department Chair Lei Sun. The clinic treats a variety of speech-related issues — from children with language delays to adults with communication challenges due to stroke, traumatic brain injuries and neurological disorders.Most are referred here after insurance benefits run out.
Sessions mix assessment and one-to-one therapy with caregiver education and alternative communication — gestures, writing, drawing, assistive technology — whenever speech isn’t the best route. Across an academic year, the clinic delivers about 1,800 direct-contact hours free of charge. In 2022, the clinic began operating year-round and founded a weekly support group — a classroom setting fostering "genuine relationships and a sense of belonging," said Kenya Gomez-Tydor, a lecturer who recently took over as clinic director.
"Both students and clients often describe our meetings as the 'highlight' of their week," she said.
Unlike the customary classroom-to-internship trajectory of many speech-language pathology programs, CSULB places its students in the campus clinic almost immediately — giving every graduate clinician an on-campus runway to practice the skills they’re learning in real time. After three terms, they move on to their internships.
“We scaffold our teaching to their needs because we’re sitting right here and we’re heavily involved,” said former Clinic Director Deanne Wayt. “We bring that real-world experience to them in a very supportive environment, and then we slowly, slowly, slowly reduce the support to hopefully get them to independence.”
That was certainly the case for Paek, who called the clinic “a really safe place, a safe environment . . . We always knew we were in safe hands.”
We always knew we were in safe hands.
Paek never forgot the chief executive she worked with that day. He’d been diagnosed with anomic aphasia, but that was only part of the challenge; he also felt perpetually rushed, which spiked his anxiety whenever he stalled.
With faculty just a few rooms away and listening, Paek didn’t call for help. Instead, she encouraged the man to sketch the word on a pad of paper — something she’d found helpful for him — and assured him there was no hurry. He could take all the time he needed.
The room seemed to cool. His body settled. Eventually, the man who’d once commanded boardrooms found his words, and Paek had found another important tool: time.
In addition to suggesting the client carry a pad of paper with him, Paek encouraged him to advocate for that same space with the people around him: Ask a partner, friend or family member to pause before stepping in or moving on.
“Tell them, ‘I know what I want to say. I have the idea. I just need some time to search for the word,’” Paek told the man. “For him, what worked best was advocating for more time.”
