SAY: AU provides FREE In-Person and Online Creative Arts Programs for Young People Who Stutter
Our MY STUTTER blog shares incredible stories from people across the world who stutter. Our aim is that these deeply personal, real and uplifting stories help to inspire young people who stutter to overcome various obstacles and achieve their dreams.
These incredible stories will also help to educate the world about the unimaginable fear and cruelty that often face people who stutter and how we can all best support people who stutter by providing compassion, kindness and as much time as people need to say the words they want to say.
Scroll down to read some truly inspiring stories!
If you have a story you would like to share on our MY STUTTER blog we would love to hear from you!
(Opinions expressed or shared in blog comments are solely those of the individuals submitting stories and comments, and do not necessarily represent the views of SAY: Australia).
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MY STUTTER Blog Series
"The theatre, the arts, and performing on stage really helped my attitude and awareness of my stuttering."
John Bell AO, OBE
John Bell AO, OBE
Australian Actor & Theatre Director
John Bell has been a major influence on the development of Australian theatre in the late 20th and early 21st centuries, and is one of Australia's most illustrious theatre personalities. John is an award-wining actor, acclaimed director, and a person who stutters.
After graduating from the University of Sydney in 1962, John worked for the Old Tote Theatre Company; each of Australia’s state theatre companies; and was Associate Artist with the Royal Shakespeare Company in the UK.
John later co-founded Sydney’s Nimrod Theatre Company and presented many productions of landmark Australia plays, including David Williamson’s travelling North, The Club, and the Removalists.
John founded The Bell Shakespeare Company in 1990 where he served as Director until 2015. His productions include over 15 of Shakespeare’s greatest works, which have been played to almost 2.5 million Australians.
John has been recognised for his leadership and significant contributions to national culture. John is an Officer of the Order of Australia and the Order of the British Empire; has an Honorary Doctorate of Letters from the Universities of Sydney, NSW and Newcastle; and was recognised in 1997 by the National Trust of Australia as one of Australia’s Living Treasures.
John shared not only his experiences of stuttering with SAY: Australia's President Rich Stephens, but also some awesome words of wisdom for both young people who stutter and their families.
John first become aware of his stutter during his adolescence and described his high-school years as very painful times.
My stutter become noticeable rather late in my childhood, around 11-12 years of age. I tried to disguise my stutter, sometimes by changing words, but other times it was very hard to do so. People could tell I was having trouble getting my words out. I found stuttering extremely embarrassing, humiliating, and a developing astute self-consciousness only made it worse.
Like many young people who stutter, John did not know another person who stuttered.
Even though I’ve heard there is a hereditary cause, I didn’t know of anyone else in my family stuttering, and no one else in my school stuttered.....I was the only one! I also never had any therapy or assistance with my stutter……so I become very aware it was a psychological hurdle for me to overcome.
At a time of great pain and low self-esteem, John’s discovery of the theatre and performance changed everything.
The theatre, the arts, and performing on stage really helped my attitude and awareness of my stuttering. Receiving recognition and applause for my work helped to increase my self-esteem and relieved the anxiety I felt from stuttering. I came to the realisation that there was nothing wrong with me!
John’s self-esteem and confidence went from strength to strength whilst performing, and his love of the theatre led to a very successful and happy career. John’s stutter became less strong throughout adulthood, and even now, in his late 70s, can still recur from time to time. During his career, John met other people who stuttered.
I met some people in theatre, directors and designers, who had very strong stutters that had affected them strongly all their lives. It had really become a social impairment for them. So, I guess the sooner you can do something about your stutter when you’re younger, get some help, it might not become so engrained……it might not become such a great burden!
If John could speak to his younger adolescence self, what would he tell himself?
I would reassure myself that there is help out there. Don’t let your stutter depress you or make you anxious. It’s important not to be apologetic about it or feel inferior about it……there is nothing wrong with you! And you can live a great life with having a stutter.
And what advice would John give to parents and families of young people who stutter?
The main thing is not to try and straighten the child out; not to try and say ‘you’re doing something wrong’ ; you need to be very understanding, patient, and empathic; and try and find the help that is out there. You should never be impatient as that only makes it worse and intensifies the difficulty for the child. So, extreme patience, awareness, and sensitivity is what is required.
"I still need to remind myself that what I have to say matters more than what the other person might think."
Rachel Purcell, SLT
Rachel Purcell
Speech & Language Therapist, UK
Rachel and her father.
I first remember noticing my speech didn’t sound like other people’s when I started school. I’m a summer baby so my parents took the option at that time to send me to school half way through the school year in the January.
Not only did I sound different, but everyone else in the class seemed to understand what was going on- where to put your coat, where to eat your lunch and importantly, how to speak to the teacher. I didn’t know to call her ‘miss’. I had no idea you were supposed to put your hand up to speak. And possibly worst of all, she terrified me. I’d stand at her desk struggling to answer a question and be told to go away and come back when I could talk properly. I was 4.
I made some good friends and coped by staying quiet. Unluckily for me, the same teacher taught my class again when I was 7 years old and, of course, my stammer ramped up a few notches. I started stammering at home, playing in the street with friends and kids at school started to notice it too (and not in a kind or concerned way).
My dad is a man of few words. Or facial expressions. He’s a pretty stern looking bloke who also stammers, although he claims he ‘cured’ his stammer when he knocked out the school bully who’d made his life a misery for so long (not a recommended cure - please don’t try this at home). I grew up with my mother doing the talking and explaining and my dad keeping quiet. So the fact that my dad sat me down on the bottom stair that Saturday morning and talked to me OPENLY about his experience of stammering when I was 7 years old, had a massive impact on me and how my stammer went on to develop.
He told me he knew exactly how I felt and he regretted all the years he had shied away from talking because of his fear of stammering. His wise words of advice were ‘If you want to say something, just say it, don’t worry about what anyone else might think’.
Simple advice which has taken me years of practice to apply. It still takes practice. Don’t get me wrong, this was no miracle cure. At first I envied how easy he made it sound and felt like I was letting him down when I truly couldn’t speak up, even when I knew the answer in class, even when I knew the person I was talking to was wrong about something, even when I really really wanted the thing I couldn’t fluently ask for.
Most people now react with surprise when I mention I have a stammer. I’m usually pretty fluent and tend to stammer more when I’m teaching or when I’m feeling under pressure. I went through a really tough year in 2016 and my stammer started popping up in all sorts of unexpected places- talking to friends, talking to my children and family, and in one to one discussions and meetings at work. In many ways, having a more obvious stammer made it easier. I was able to talk openly about it and made the conscious decision to embrace it. My stammer has brought a fair number of painful and embarrassing situations to my life but it’s also brought a huge number of rewarding experiences. I truly believe that many of my friendships would not have been possible without my stammer (these of course, being the people who have stepped up when I’ve needed them most). I have the privilege of working with people who stammer and the parents of children who stammer as a speech and language therapist. I also get to teach undergraduate speech therapists about stammering, which of course means I stammer my way through each and every lecture but it’s an incredibly empowering experience. So I have my stammer to thank for my diverse and fulfilling career too.
My dad is still my therapist. He also has days and times when he stammers more. He’s still open about it. He tells me he doesn’t think on it too much as going over and over it only makes it feel worse. And of course, whenever I have a dilemma to deal with he tells me...
Not only did I sound different, but everyone else in the class seemed to understand what was going on- where to put your coat, where to eat your lunch and importantly, how to speak to the teacher. I didn’t know to call her ‘miss’. I had no idea you were supposed to put your hand up to speak. And possibly worst of all, she terrified me. I’d stand at her desk struggling to answer a question and be told to go away and come back when I could talk properly. I was 4.
I made some good friends and coped by staying quiet. Unluckily for me, the same teacher taught my class again when I was 7 years old and, of course, my stammer ramped up a few notches. I started stammering at home, playing in the street with friends and kids at school started to notice it too (and not in a kind or concerned way).
That year, I remember standing in the hallway at home, trying to tell my dad something on a Saturday morning. We were going out but I was frozen to the spot trying again and again to get the same word out.
My dad is a man of few words. Or facial expressions. He’s a pretty stern looking bloke who also stammers, although he claims he ‘cured’ his stammer when he knocked out the school bully who’d made his life a misery for so long (not a recommended cure - please don’t try this at home). I grew up with my mother doing the talking and explaining and my dad keeping quiet. So the fact that my dad sat me down on the bottom stair that Saturday morning and talked to me OPENLY about his experience of stammering when I was 7 years old, had a massive impact on me and how my stammer went on to develop.
He told me he knew exactly how I felt and he regretted all the years he had shied away from talking because of his fear of stammering. His wise words of advice were ‘If you want to say something, just say it, don’t worry about what anyone else might think’.
Simple advice which has taken me years of practice to apply. It still takes practice. Don’t get me wrong, this was no miracle cure. At first I envied how easy he made it sound and felt like I was letting him down when I truly couldn’t speak up, even when I knew the answer in class, even when I knew the person I was talking to was wrong about something, even when I really really wanted the thing I couldn’t fluently ask for.
It took years and I still need to remind myself that what I have to say matters more than what the other person might think. He didn’t cure me, but he gave me a mighty fine starting place.
Most people now react with surprise when I mention I have a stammer. I’m usually pretty fluent and tend to stammer more when I’m teaching or when I’m feeling under pressure. I went through a really tough year in 2016 and my stammer started popping up in all sorts of unexpected places- talking to friends, talking to my children and family, and in one to one discussions and meetings at work. In many ways, having a more obvious stammer made it easier. I was able to talk openly about it and made the conscious decision to embrace it. My stammer has brought a fair number of painful and embarrassing situations to my life but it’s also brought a huge number of rewarding experiences. I truly believe that many of my friendships would not have been possible without my stammer (these of course, being the people who have stepped up when I’ve needed them most). I have the privilege of working with people who stammer and the parents of children who stammer as a speech and language therapist. I also get to teach undergraduate speech therapists about stammering, which of course means I stammer my way through each and every lecture but it’s an incredibly empowering experience. So I have my stammer to thank for my diverse and fulfilling career too.
My dad is still my therapist. He also has days and times when he stammers more. He’s still open about it. He tells me he doesn’t think on it too much as going over and over it only makes it feel worse. And of course, whenever I have a dilemma to deal with he tells me...
Just say what you have to say, don’t worry about anything else!
"I was so taken with the confidence of our Camp SAY campers that I took on a new mission to advocate and educate in my own community!"
Stephen Gourley, Professional Musician, Camp SAY Counsellor and Teaching Artist
Stephen Gourley
Stephen Gourley is a professional musician living in Pinehurst, North Carolina. Since 2014, he has been Director of Music at The Village Chapel in Pinehurst, where he leads all aspects of the music program, including facilitating the Chapel's concert series. He has extensive experience as a choral accompanist, conductor, keyboard soloist, pit musician, and composer. Since 2018, Stephen has served as a counselor at Camp SAY in the United States and recently served SAY's Mentor Project team.
"I have stuttered for as long as I can remember. While I do not remember much about my early childhood years, I do remember for the longest time simply choosing not to speak in various social situations, mainly at school. When I would speak, I would usually keep sentences brief to minimize the potential risk of stuttering. I would avoid saying my name at all costs. I would even give my middle name occasionally to make a situation less stressful. As a teenager and with college looming, I was filled with thoughts of uncertainty. How could someone who stutters possibly function in the real world? These thoughts continued as I finished college and prepared for graduate school, which ultimately took me to a new state, 1400 miles away from home. I was and still am extremely fortunate to have an incredibly supportive and loving family and to have made many close friends for whom my stutter never seemed to be an issue."
"I did not realize it at the time, but music saved my life early on. One of my favorite things about playing music was and in many ways still is that I did not have to talk while I did it. I could get lost in the music, not worrying about what people would think about the way I speak. I could not imagine what my life would be without making music, and it will forever be my escape."
"I was consumed with feelings of self-loathing and often would pre-judge people on how I thought they would look at me because I stuttered. Then, an opportunity. In 2017, I saw a social media post referencing the Stuttering Association for the Young and was immediately intrigued. I looked up their website and could not believe what I had found. An organization dedicated to supporting young people who stutter."
"The impact of being welcomed into the SAY family cannot be overstated. I was met with somewhat unfamiliar eye contact and genuine interest as I stuttered to say my name to my new colleagues and soon to be dear friends. I found myself seriously influenced not only by my new colleagues but also the remarkable young people that we serve. Every summer that I return, I continue to feel overwhelmed with joy and emotion as I witness the beauty and brilliance in my colleagues as they give selflessly of themselves in the name of giving our campers confidence and helping them find their voice. I was so taken with the confidence of our campers that I took on a new mission to advocate and educate in my own community."
"I did not realize it at the time, but music saved my life early on. One of my favorite things about playing music was and in many ways still is that I did not have to talk while I did it. I could get lost in the music, not worrying about what people would think about the way I speak. I could not imagine what my life would be without making music, and it will forever be my escape."
I was 30 years old before I was remotely comfortable talking about stuttering, not to mention my own stutter and my relationship with it.
"I was consumed with feelings of self-loathing and often would pre-judge people on how I thought they would look at me because I stuttered. Then, an opportunity. In 2017, I saw a social media post referencing the Stuttering Association for the Young and was immediately intrigued. I looked up their website and could not believe what I had found. An organization dedicated to supporting young people who stutter."
An organization whose sole focus was not fluency, but rather giving young people an environment where they could be themselves, and where they had all the time to say what they had to say. It seems an easy concept, but in a world plagued by the need for instant information and results, rarely does one have all the time they need to say what they want to say.
"The impact of being welcomed into the SAY family cannot be overstated. I was met with somewhat unfamiliar eye contact and genuine interest as I stuttered to say my name to my new colleagues and soon to be dear friends. I found myself seriously influenced not only by my new colleagues but also the remarkable young people that we serve. Every summer that I return, I continue to feel overwhelmed with joy and emotion as I witness the beauty and brilliance in my colleagues as they give selflessly of themselves in the name of giving our campers confidence and helping them find their voice. I was so taken with the confidence of our campers that I took on a new mission to advocate and educate in my own community."
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