I knew I wanted to teach from the age of 15 but feared my stammer would stop me. One teacher even told me I should consider a different career because children wouldn’t understand me. I now know he was wrong.
I’ve had a stammer since I was 14 and it has given me many obstacles to overcome. In primary school I was mocked and other children would sometimes imitate me. As a result, I refused to put my hand up in lessons. I was scared of what people would say.
By the time I got to secondary school, I knew I needed to work with my stammer and not against it. I didn’t want to be someone who never spoke, so I started to push myself. I did things I didn’t enjoy, like going first in presentations or choosing to study drama. I hated these things and still stammered, but at least I now stammered with more confidence.
I was good at maths and helped support my teacher in some of his classes. That’s when I realised I was good at teaching other students. So after studying sports science at university, I applied to do a PGCE maths teacher training course.
I didn’t get into the first place I interviewed for. Ten minutes after I left the interview I got a notification on my phone to say I had been rejected. That hit me hard and I blamed my stammer. I went home and cried, because I’d wanted it for so long, and had mentally prepared and trained for so many years.
But I picked myself back up and eventually got on to a course at Birmingham City University. My lecturers and tutors were supportive: they taught us how to teach, shared resources, and took us out to schools. I found a job easily after I graduated in 2016.
Now I’m a teacher, I’ve learned to be very open about my stammer because it helps to release tension. At the start of every academic year I tell my new class a few things about myself. I tell them I have a stammer, but that it’s not going to stop me from being a good teacher. I say: “You will understand, but I need you to be slightly patient.”
Students do understand and most of the time they’re incredibly supportive. Sometimes I’ll openly tell them I struggle with a word and they’ll say it for me, which is nice. On the rare occasion that a child has imitated or mocked me, the entire class has stood up for me and said: “Why are you taking the mick out of Sir? He’s teaching us, show him more respect.” That’s the loveliest thing.
The job has its difficulties too. When you’re tired or stressed, you stammer more, and teaching is very tiring and stressful. When that happens, I stay calm and have my own practices – for example, slow breathing helps me with my speech.
I believe it’s good for students to see teachers who are different or have hidden disabilities. They often think teachers are perfect; that we’re robotic, or don’t have a life outside of school. They probably even think we wear staff uniform to bed. When they find out you’re a real person, they respect you and realise they can relate to you.
I’d say that, overall, having a stammer has helped me to become a better teacher. I’ve developed certain personal traits as a result of it. I’m a good listener, because people with a stammer often listen more than they can speak. I’m also able to spot things: when you’re young and you stammer you tend to stay silent, so you get a chance to observe people. When I teach, people rarely hear me shout and I choose my words wisely.
My advice for people with hidden disabilities is to be brave and do things that scare you. Don’t let people put you off. In the end, my stammer hasn’t stopped me or ended my teaching career. It’s only made me better.