About the Author: My name is Kory Tran and I’m a person who stutters in the Bay Area. Well I suppose I’m a person who stutters outside of the Bay Area as well. I am a writer with a background in journalism and this is my third time participating in the ISAD conference. In my free time I enjoy attempting to do improv and krav maga. I am also active in the National Stuttering Association as the leader of the San Jose chapter.

If I had a nickel for every time someone said to me, “How come you’re stuttering more today? Just do what you did last week,” I could buy a car to run that person over. 

Just kidding, of course. But it frustrates me that there is a lot of confusion about stuttering, and it can be exhausting explaining to people how stuttering can be different from person to person, from one day to the next.

There is a phenomenon I often have to explain about the way I stutter. Sometimes I would have stretches of time where I would be more fluent. I could speak more quickly, blurt things out more spontaneously, and crack jokes without worrying about blocking on the punchline. I can’t explain why this phenomenon occurs, or when. If I could, I would no doubt try to replicate the conditions to have it occur more often.

During this fleeting period, which could last up to several weeks, I notice I would be more talkative and therefore more social, and it would offer me a glimpse into what my life could’ve been like if I had grown up without a stutter. I tie so much of my identity to how I speak. In an alternative universe, would a fluent version of myself have been more sociable and popular growing up? Would I have been more successful in my career? Would I have aced my improv audition? Would I have been approached randomly by someone saying, “Oh my God, you’re amazing, I’m from Marvel, will you come help us with the next X-Men movie”? OK, that last one might have been asking for too much.

And then just when it seems I could get used to this daydreaming, the blocks come back with a vengeance and I return to my usual experience as a person who stutters. I use the term “usual” very loosely, as there is really no usual way to be a person who stutters. Many of us who stutter often say that growing up, we didn’t know anyone else who stuttered. But that may simply be because we hadn’t met someone who stuttered exactly like us. 

I would describe myself as generally having a moderate stutter. For every couple of sentences, I would repeat some of the sounds or probably have a block. Then again, “moderate” can mean different things to people who stutter. After joining the National Stuttering Association and meeting countless people who stutter over the years, I’ve seen how people can stutter on such a wide spectrum. There are, hyperbolically, a million ways to stutter. Some may stutter by repeating sounds. Some may stutter by having extended blocks. Some may stutter more on words that start with “L” or “S.” Some may stutter after every other word. Some may stutter in a way that it may not be noticeable at all—covertly. I admit I used to be jealous of this latter group. To me, it would be a dream to seemingly “turn off” one’s stutter at will. I’d compare these covert people to the members of the X-Men who were conventionally attractive and whose powers were really cool but they still claimed they were being discriminated against by society. But I realize now it’s a lot more complicated than that. And there’s a lot I may not understand about other people who stutter, nor would they about me. Putting one person who stutters against another does not help any of us. We’re all in the same boat, even if we may be in different parts of the boat. OK, I am not the best at metaphors.

And then, of course, like I said earlier, we can have days where we can stutter so differently from how we’re used to, which brings me back to my statement in the open paragraph. I joined Toastmasters years ago, an organization where we would practice public speaking. Every once in a while, I would give a speech on the topic of stuttering, to kind of break the ice with members who were new and might have questions about my stutter. And every once in a while, I would receive a note, either verbally or in written form, saying something like “Oh but you didn’t really stutter much today” or “you stuttered more today, why don’t you just do what you did last week?” This used to leave me fuming. Now I get mildly annoyed and understand it means some people just haven’t been exposed enough to people who stutter. 

My own journey as a person who stutters hasn’t been easy nor does it feel close to complete. I’ve learned to accept more things about my stutter. It is no longer this thing that makes me so different from everyone else. Like I said, growing up, I thought that I was the only person in my school or family tree who stuttered, but maybe that was because I was looking for someone who sounded just like me. Now, my ears perk up as I regularly recognize people who stutter in various ways at the coffee shop, at the gym, at a comic convention, like how members of the X-Men have a sense for their own kind. (I had to include a third reference whether it makes sense or not.) And as someone who is still figuring things out, I may not be able to control my stutter. But increasingly, my stutter does not control me either. OK, this might not be a bad way to end this essay.