One of the greatest gifts I received as a kid was my stuttering talent.
At times I could not get out a single word, much less a coherent sentence or two.
It drove my loving father, Vern, nuts. He’d counsel me, “Don, think about what you want to say before you begin to speak.” I always knew what I wanted to say. I just couldn’t get the words out.
So why do I now consider stuttering a gift?
It made me look inward, to create in my mind what I could not express with words.
I became sensitive to others who had all kinds of problems. I found myself rooting for them as they coped with arrogant kids and bullies.
When I was quite young, I started to write and stick my stories and poems in a secret treasure box. I still do.
I learned to be resilient.
I listened more than most kids my age.
I was in my late teens before a smart friend told me I should practice stuttering on purpose. I kind of enjoyed it. This simple tip gave me considerable control over my speech patterns.
Every now and then, I still stutter on purpose just to tick off someone who is bugging me.
After all, I don’t want to lose such a wonderful gift.