Doing What I Thought I Couldn't

One of the things that I had always wanted to do was teach. But I thought I couldn't because of stuttering. When choosing a career path in college, I remember thinking that teaching was out of the question. It would require too much talking and who would want to hear a stutterer? So I chose a field that I thought would entail less talking- social work. Well, it didn't quite turn out to be less talking, because as we know, social workers/counselors talk to people every day. I had thought that at least I wouldn't have to stand up in front of groups and talk, and risk stuttering.

Now, some twenty years later, I am doing exactly what I thought I could never do, and in a way, I am teaching. I consider myself to be very lucky. I have put myself in a position to be talking to different groups about the stuttering experience and acceptance. And I really love doing it. It is a way for me to give and do volunteer work about something I am passionate about. Over the last two years, I have facilitated several workshops and presentations on acceptance of stuttering and how we can manage it in our lives. Something I never would have dreamed was possible. And I don't have to be a certified teacher to teach.

Two weeks ago, I helped to present a 6 hour workshop to speech language pathologists, with two other people who stutter (Dr. Klein was one of them). Our workshop covered therapy approaches for pre-school and older kids and teens, and adult considerations. I covered the section on adult issues and spent considerable time discussing covert stuttering. There were over 120 SLPs in attendance,and we received excellent feedback about our presentation. The day proved that there needs to be a partnership between professionals and people who live the stuttering experience.

Two days ago, I participated in a NSA Youth Day in Syracuse NY. I volunteered to present a workshop for parents. As it turned out, me and my friend Joe (Klein) actually co-facilitated the presentation for a group that included both parents, students and professional SLPs. This was one of the most moving experiences I have had. We talked about stuttering being OK and acceptance. Parents shared their worries and fears and their hopes for their kids. Some shared that this was their first experience talking openly about stuttering, and hearing adults who stutter do so freely. Parents commented that they wished they had knew about resources like this long ago.

Some parents openly showed emotion throughout, and especially when we had everyone practice voluntary stuttering. For some parents, it was the first time they had experienced what their child experienced. Two moms who had just met practiced voluntary stuttering with each other and both were visibly moved and teary eyed. They felt a powerful connection. We then finished with having everyone try a Chinese finger trap and feel how it feels to get stuck during a block. It was a good way to end the adult workshop. We had all shared powerful emotional moments with each other. I felt very proud and honored to be a part of that with my friend Joe and new friends from Syracuse.

The kids joined the adults as we concluded the day and shared with us what they had worked on during their workshop. Some of these kids had NOT wanted to be at this workshop. Their parents had strongly encouraged them to come. The kids made a video of what its' like to stutter in public and get made fun of. It was amazing to see this, and listen as the kids excitedly answered questions about how they worked together to act this out. The kids were grinning from ear to ear. They had learned something about their own stuttering on this sunny Saturday. And the looks of pride on the adult faces was unmistakable.

A mom came up to me as we were leaving and asked if it was OK to give me a hug. She said she always thought it was her job to fix her kid. She said she feels relief to know that acceptance can be part of her job too. My eyes welled up along with hers.

Yep, it was a great way to spend a Saturday. I feel lucky to be a part of something I never thought I could do. All the smiles and tears will stay with me for a long time.