Stammering helped me stand out from others

Tuesday 4th August 2026

Paul

Paul Calvert tells us his story, from worrying if anyone would employ him because he stammered, to climbing the professional ladder and managing several bank branches.

I don't really recall (or more likely, want to remember) stammering in junior school, as I never did at home in front of my parents, who, bless them, had no idea of my struggle to speak. However, the real pain, shame and agonising frustration that can come with a stammer didn't really hit home until secondary school, when it crashed head-on with the casual cruelty and thoughtlessness of young boys.

Strangely, it was here that I quickly realised one of the few advantages having a stammer had bestowed on me: my command of the English language and a vocabulary much larger than my peers. There being so many words I couldn't say, I needed to know pronouncable alternatives! Up to A-levels, I had the highest English score of any boy in the school. To be fair, I was also a voracious reader of encyclopedias and science fiction from the local library.

It can be so tempting to use stammering as an excuse not to do things.

It was at this time that the teasing and downright maliciousness began, which didn't let up until sixth form. Blocking was a common problem. I recall one instance where I had to go to the front of the class to recite something, only to find myself caught in the mother of all blocks. Rigid with frustration, I spent what seemed an eternity trying to get one word out. To his credit, the teacher was very patient, and I eventually returned to my seat, bright red with shame and a burning anger that I can still feel now, over fifty years later.

In these supposedly gentler times, what I endured would be called bullying. Back then, to me, it was the norm. This became the second benefit from being a stammerer; a mental toughness and resilience which proved invaluable in later life.

Entering the world of work

It can be so tempting to use stammering as an excuse not to do things; "don't speak up, you'll only make a fool of yourself" or "I'll never get that job with a stammer, so what's the point of applying?" It's almost as if a little devil is sitting on your shoulder, whispering into your ear and slowly destroying your confidence. I tried my best to remain incognito, dreading being asked questions or having to speak up.

On leaving school and entering the world of work, responsibility loomed large and another set of worries emerged. Would anyone employ me? Was my only option to get a job where I didn't have to speak to people?

I attended job interviews but the moment I started to stammer, I vividly recall seeing the shutters come down behind the interviewer's eyes and knew it was a waste of time. One of my few real friends at school had been taken on as a trainee manager at a supermarket. Steve knew of my troubles and offered me a job stacking shelves. Fortunately, the people there were decent and treated me kindly. A shining career stretched before me, its culmination being the chance to become a cashier one day! I wanted something with better prospects but that little devil was still whispering away on my shoulder, telling me this was the best I could expect and not to bother looking elsewhere.

See our tips for applying for jobs and coping with interviews.

As time passed, I finally got a bite to all the applications I'd been sending off, and made my first solo trip to London for an interview with Midland Bank, as it then was. My gameplan was to say as little as possible and rely on yes or no responses! It worked and a week later I received a letter offering me the job.

I duly rocked up on Monday morning and was given a job on the switchboard. Me, a stammerer, answering the bloody phone and fielding questions on subjects I didn't have a clue about! Imagine my stress levels.

The office accountant took me aside one day and asked how I'd feel trying a spot of cashiering. Despite my reservations, I jumped at the chance and it was a wise move. I developed a natural affinity with my customers. I began losing my inhibitions and I really enjoyed the role.

...my stammer had yet another advantage; my business customers remembered me.

Over the next few years I became the manager's clerk, working for a man like Captain Mainwaring from Dad's Army but without his kindness. I did a damn good job, but he took exception to my stammer, telling me to my face that unless I lost it, I would never make managerial level. Thankfully, he retired soon after.

Climbing the ladder

Meanwhile, I had been attending evening classes to obtain my professional banking exams, which meant I could finally add letters after my name. Back then, once you passed these exams, the bank would find you a lowly managerial position somewhere. Would it do the same for me and spend money on someone who might be seen by some customers as thick?

The answer came when I was given the role of Account Manager at the Knightsbridge branch. Imagine my and my parents' delight. Incidentally, this all happily coincided with my having found my future wife, Irene, but I shan't bore you with all that.

Paul in his banking days

Over my career, I managed branches across London and Essex and found that my stammer had yet another advantage; my business customers remembered me. I wasn't yet another boring, grey manager, but rather one who took them by surprise with how I spoke. It helped me stand out from all of the others.

Sadly, branch banking became a shadow of itself, the 'computer says no' curse having taken over, and managerial power to lend money removed. Bored by the way things had changed, I applied for a job at head office in Canary Wharf. From there, and several roles later, I undertook many public speaking engagements, being seen as an expert on handling complaints, before finally taking early retirement at the grand old age of fifty-four.

My life now

Since retiring, I've written four sci-fi books (available on Amazon — search for 'Paul M Calvert') and been on numerous cruises. Did my stammer close doors? Yes, but I am a great believer that for every one that does, another opens… if you are brave enough to walk through it. The little devil whispering in my ear withered away as I aged, although I sometimes hear faint echoes from long ago.

I still stammer but age, experience and a degree of bloody-mindedness have removed most of the blocking. I have good, bad and bloody awful days. But if my experience is anything to go by, society is more accepting than it used to be. I occasionally get the odd idiot who smiles if I struggle to get a word out, but they soon lose it… strangely, I never struggle when swearing at people.

I am grateful for the support of my family, friends and all those wonderful customers who treated me as simply another person, instead of that guy who spoke funny. So, to all of you who struggle to be heard, don't let that little devil whispering in your ear stop you. If this lad from Dagenham can do it, so can you.

We've got lots of tips and information on stammering and employment. See our Work & Job Hunting section.

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