Saturday night I found myself going to the movies, the flick was The Kings Speech. I’m a fan of costume dramas not just because I’m gay but because I’m a big gay history nerd. So if a film has drawn out dialog and slow sweeping landscape shots it’s most likely a perfect fit.
Several minutes into this film I became exceedingly unconformable. I guess I didn’t realize that it was about a bloke with a speech impediment. What most people don’t know about me is that left unchecked I myself have a crippling stutter. Seeing someone stutter puts my brain in a tailspin and I go back to square one with the way I think and speak. Two hours of this put me into a verbal meltdown.
When I was a small fey and pale boy I couldn’t start a sentence without fear clenching my girlish hands into a fist. The nickname of Stuttering Stevie came from my classmates in third-grade. The ironic thing was I couldn’t even repeat my own nick name to my teacher when she asked why I always cried. It is also ironic how I wanted nothing more than to leave the small town I was trapped growing up in. Yet unknown to me at the time this small town was a college town and home to a teaching program that would hold the key to my future.
The university that my school bus drove by every day was on the cutting edge on education in learning disabilities. I’m still unsure of how I ended up at the center of a study program on teaching children with speech impediments and dyslexia. Looking back it has changed my life forever.
Everyday through the remainder of my elementary education a team of professors and teaching students would come to my school to teach me to speak. I ate the attention up, I would walk into a conference room filled with adults who wanted nothing but to gush over me. Every day the head of the program, Mr. Sena would enthusiastically announce to the group“Well… It’s nice to see Stevie B!”
After three years of daily training the study and program was ended. After three years of daily training I could speak. I finally had a voice. Although I struggle when I see Colin Firth stuttering ten feet high on the silver screen mostly my stuttering only shows itself when I’m trying to speak to someone I don’t know at the bar. The hotter the guy is the more I turn back into Stuttering Steve. I like to tell myself that guys find it endearing.
Several minutes into this film I became exceedingly unconformable. I guess I didn’t realize that it was about a bloke with a speech impediment. What most people don’t know about me is that left unchecked I myself have a crippling stutter. Seeing someone stutter puts my brain in a tailspin and I go back to square one with the way I think and speak. Two hours of this put me into a verbal meltdown.
When I was a small fey and pale boy I couldn’t start a sentence without fear clenching my girlish hands into a fist. The nickname of Stuttering Stevie came from my classmates in third-grade. The ironic thing was I couldn’t even repeat my own nick name to my teacher when she asked why I always cried. It is also ironic how I wanted nothing more than to leave the small town I was trapped growing up in. Yet unknown to me at the time this small town was a college town and home to a teaching program that would hold the key to my future.
The university that my school bus drove by every day was on the cutting edge on education in learning disabilities. I’m still unsure of how I ended up at the center of a study program on teaching children with speech impediments and dyslexia. Looking back it has changed my life forever.
Everyday through the remainder of my elementary education a team of professors and teaching students would come to my school to teach me to speak. I ate the attention up, I would walk into a conference room filled with adults who wanted nothing but to gush over me. Every day the head of the program, Mr. Sena would enthusiastically announce to the group“Well… It’s nice to see Stevie B!”
After three years of daily training the study and program was ended. After three years of daily training I could speak. I finally had a voice. Although I struggle when I see Colin Firth stuttering ten feet high on the silver screen mostly my stuttering only shows itself when I’m trying to speak to someone I don’t know at the bar. The hotter the guy is the more I turn back into Stuttering Steve. I like to tell myself that guys find it endearing.
I volunteer for your adult speech therapy.
ReplyDeleteWe DO find it endearing! And I find your bravery for sharing this to be a HUGE accomplishment - well done meester!
ReplyDeleteEndearing is an understatement. I would love to make someone else stammer for a change. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing Stevie. My best friend also stammers, but he getting better.
ReplyDeleteMy brother used to stammer a lot. And my Dad. Takes a lot of courage to get over - proud of you, Stevie B! xxx
ReplyDeleteRemind me not to read your incredibly touching blogs before I have to be all butch at work, my guyliner is running.
ReplyDeleteIt's a great story. Nice to know where the blog title comes from and your love of attention. :)
ReplyDeletenice toaster.
ReplyDelete