FACES OF GRCC

I can remember the first time I
stuttered at 10 years old. It caught me
completely off guard. I was so used
to being able to speak fluently and
normally that I didn’t even think that
it was possible to speak any different.
I recall my mom being aware of it immediately
and asking me if everything
was alright and why I struggled. I
didn’t have much to tell her other than
I didn’t know.
I wasn’t born with this problem. I
can still remember a time when I was
able to speak clearly without any issue.
Those were probably better days,
but back then I wasn’t old enough to
really consciously make friends or
right and wrong decisions. I just kind
of did my homework, and stayed home
every day finding something to do in
video games. Around fourth or fifth
grade, I started to notice my stuttering
impediment show its face. Mom did
too, so did Dad. I think after a while,
my brother Eli did, too. It evolved from
being able to say a few sentences to
Mom and Dad to trying my very best
to get a paragraph out to my parents
over the new game they got me, or how
bad my day was, or how much homework
I had, without losing my breath.
The first thing my parents did was
send me straight to speech therapy,
lessons on how to properly pronounce
words and sentences, how to sound
them out and make it easier for your
brain to create words. When I was
young, it sounded incredibly stupid.
Why would I ever need to take classes
for something that I already knew how
to do prior to having this problem? I
guess I was just so used to speaking
fluently that I never thought I’d need to
remember how to pronounce syllables
right.
I had speech about two times a
week and it took me out of some of my
boring classes that I hated in school.
It was actually a point of excitement
for me during the week. The lessons
were often very engaging and fun to
be in and we ended up always playing
a game at the end if I did well enough,
and that alone made me want to do as
best I could (which I did, I always did).
I didn’t really get bullied for it too
much in grade school, but that was
mostly because I could practically do
everything by myself and not talk to
anyone. In middle school it was a lot
different. Middle school is just a bad
experience for almost everyone, but
the bullying really started there. Aside
from the occasional “stutter face”
insult I got by the “cool kids” in grade
school, I was picked on by the middle
school kids a lot worse. I’d say it was
probably the hardest two years of my
life in school up to that point because
of how group-dependent a lot of the
school work ended up being. I was
still this super shy, antisocial kid that
couldn’t speak worth a damn. It ended
up getting so bad that the teachers
would hesitate to pick me when I had
my hand raised to answer questions,
on the rare occasions that I even
raised my hand.
Needless to say, school was not
good to me in seventh and eighth
grade. Kids would exclude me from
hanging out with them and talking to
them was so much of a chore for them
that they just would try their best to
not even speak to me at all. Teachers
got so fed up with my stuttering, especially
in English class, that I was being
marked down in presentations for
stuttering. I always ended up getting
a lower grade than others in presentations
even if mine was better than
theirs. I always told myself that talk is
cheap to make myself feel better.
Oddly enough, the real pain didn’t
start to set in until high school. High
school was a lot easier for me as far as
socializing goes because everybody
was a lot more accepting. But it was
still hard. Communicating was still
just as much of a chore as it ever was.
During my first year of high school it
was nearly impossible for it take me
less than 10 minutes to get through a
single thought. People would often get
so tired of me talking, especially when
they already knew what I was going
to say, that they would very frequently
finish my sentences for me.
Some may think finishing my sentences
was helpful. But, to me, it was
an insult. I wasn’t important enough
and what I was saying wasn’t important
enough to listen to so they ended
it early. It got so annoying that I had
to tell people to stop finishing my sentences
and start being mean to people
to get them to start treating me with
the respect I needed and wanted.
I was often told by some of my
favorite teachers that if I didn’t have
the stuttering issues I do that I would
easily have the best reading voice.
I’ve been told that I’m a very dramatic
person. I would agree with that. I’ve
also been told that I have an excellent
ability to read in different tones.
I don’t just read in monotone, I read
with different voices in my head and
make different sounds for things in
books. I think it’s hilarious and oddly
enough so did my teachers. After a
while I managed to get an edge up
on the competition thanks to a note
from my speech therapist to all of my
English teachers telling them that they
could no longer grade me down for
stuttering during presentations. I was
relieved that I would no longer have
10-point deductions because I tripped
up on a word.
Unfortunately, during my second
year of high school the loneliness
started to kick in and the self hate
started to grow. I started to hate
myself for having this disability and
inability to speak right. Even with all
of my training, I still wouldn’t speak
to practically anyone at school and I
would only speak when spoken to. I
started to question myself and doubt
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