Poem: When I stutter and you don't listen...

A poem by USA-based Pam Mertz, who also tells us about performing it at a contest.

When I stutter and you don't listen, part of me feels like it's missing

By Pamela Mertz

Really, you just said that. You're an adult, I'm an adult. Oh God, here comes my self-talk
What do I do, what do I say? Please Pam, don't walk away.

When I stutter and you don't listen, part of me feels like it's missing.

My heart is pounding, my cheeks flush red, I want to curl up, pretend I'm dead
You laughed at me, not once, but twice
Nailing my comeback is a roll of the dice.

When I stutter and you don't listen, part of me feels like it's missing.

You. Yeah you, in the drive through. Do you have a problem with my order? If you're going to repeat it, if you're going to repeat me, at least do it right. "It's Hay-hay-hay-hazelnut", I said.

When I stutter and you don't listen, part of me feels like it's missing.

I remember that day, ordering cheese. Yeah, I said "Ch-ch-ch-cheese please". You looked at me, 'the look', your eye, and I said No Pam, you're not going to cry.

When I stutter and you don’t listen, part of me feels like it’s missing.

And then I turned and heard a voice. Her behind me, give her her choice. Who are you to shut her down? Listen, her voice, it's her crown.

When I stutter and you don't listen, part of me feels like it's missing.

The things I do, the things I say, always just to get through the day. Now my voice, it does me favours. Even when I speak with all its wavers.

When I stutter and you don't listen, part of me feels like it's missing.

I am me, I am Pam, I love me for all I am. Can you do that, can you love me? Because what you get is what you see.

When I stutter and you don't listen, part of me feels like it's missing.

The journey's long and I'm still walking. But I'm strong and I'll keep talking. And you should listen, because what we say is worth repeating every day.

Background

At a recent National Stuttering Association of America conference, one of the evening events was a 'Stutter Slam'. I was intrigued and decided to try, even though I'd never done anything like this. There was a 3-minute limit. I decided to share some personal experiences in a rhythmic form. Performing was so empowering. I felt comfortable and responded to the audience reaction. They laughed at the laughable parts, which was great because I wanted it to be triumphant, not a litany of 'woe is me.'

When I was done, I got huge applause. At the end, all the performers had to line up in front of the audience (which seemed weird) and the winner was decided by the level of applause. I got a standing ovation and won first place. I felt so proud for taking a risk and putting my out there.