Discovering the “I” in Impact
- Manan Dhuldhoya
- 22 hours ago
- 5 min read
“If you’ve spoken to me for even 5 minutes, you know I stammer. What you don’t know, unless you stammer too, is what I’ve undergone in the 5 decades I’ve been a stammerer”.
This was how I started the message I sent to friends and family when sharing my recent ITM article, Stammering: An Invisible Handicap. In the piece, I shared my lifelong experience as a stammerer and spoke about ways in which those who stammer can be treated with more acceptance and compassion. I shared it with my family and friends as well as on my social media and the response took me by surprise.
I never thought the article would resonate with the number of people it did, including many I didn’t know.
I’d like to share some of the impact the piece had, not to show off but to show that even one person sharing their experiences can help many others to unlearn unhelpful interaction patterns and re-learn new ones.
A for Awareness
Sometimes, we assume that those close to us share our level of awareness on matters important to us. As the responses of some of my oldest friends showed me, that might not always be the case.
I shared the article on a WhatsApp group with my classmates from school who have been a source of comfort for nearly 40 years. The response was immediate.
Ameez, the first friend I made in school, was the first to respond. He wrote, “Being vulnerable is hard. Love how you changed that narrative. Kudos to your mum and dad”.
While Rujuta said, “Thanks for those 5 tips… so good to have it out there in clear words. For this and other disabilities”.
Samar, a gynaecological oncologist, wrote to say, “Except for some paediatricians, audiologists, speech therapists, and a handful of mental health professionals, 99% of doctors would not know this”, before going on to share it in his medical networks.
But perhaps the biggest surprise came when I shared this with neighbours from my apartment complex. One surprised me by sharing she too had been on a journey with her own stammer and even went to the same hospital as me. Regarding stammering, she said it “needs to be talked about for empathy to develop in people around us.” Discovering that she also stammered and that we had shared another deeply personal physical space outside of our homes made me feel a newfound kinship with her.
A Is for Advocacy, Too
We think of advocacy as something active, forceful almost. But sometimes, it comes through in surprisingly subtle ways.
Like when Kunal, a classmate from school, shared the article with his friends, most of whom I don’t know. A mother in that group took my number from him and reached out to discuss getting a speech therapist for her nearly adult son. She had been trying alternative treatments for him, and the fact that my article made her consider speech therapy was very gratifying.
Prashant, another classmate from school, commented when I shared the piece on Facebook to say, “I’m also really glad that your parents got the tip when they did so you could have the confidence. I have cousins who have stammered, and I don’t think they have that kind of help and it’s been rough on them.” before going on to repost it on his wall. The tip? My paediatrician telling my parents to let me speak without correcting me or finishing my sentences.
Shashank, an ex-colleague and dear friend, shared the piece on his Facebook saying, “It's important to share it, because it's just the sort of ready reckoner for sensitisation that our graceless, inconsiderate society needs a lot more of.” Seeing the message spread so quickly on a platform that I am barely active on was a testament to the power of a support system that shows up even when you’re absent.
C for Change
I’ve always wanted to change public perceptions around stammering, but I never actively campaigned for it. And so, I was happy when people wrote back to say the piece had changed how they viewed stammering and how they would approach a stammerer.
Chriselle, a communications consultant I share a networking group with but have never met, wrote to say, “I definitely think of stammering as something to work on or change, and this really gives a different perspective!”
A childhood buddy said, “I have a person in the office who is extremely competent and stammers a lot. This will help me enormously”, while another wrote to share, “I work with an amazing engineer who stammers a lot (mostly when giving presentations). I always hope that doesn’t hold him back. I’ll definitely share this”. Hearing this was particularly pleasing because, in the offices I’ve worked in as well as client spaces, I’ve been approached by so many about how they could be more vocal, and hence more visible, at work. They had all been mocked or pitied for their stammer their whole lives and, to avoid that in the workplace, stayed quiet unless pushed.
But perhaps what touched me most was when Ashok, a friend and fellow writer, said, “It takes courage to voice it and not come across as angry or frustrated. I am sorry to have corrected you and occasionally still do. I shall be more careful about this going ahead.” I’ve spent decades telling people not to complete or correct a stammerer and to just be a bit patient, so to hear it being acknowledged by a friend I’d made fairly recently made the struggle feel worthwhile.
E for Empathy
They say empathy begins at home, which is something Nikhubhai, my older cousin, showed us all on our family WhatsApp group. After I shared the piece, he wrote on the group to say, “We could all take a leaf out of your introspection methods and be better with dealing with our own impediments. Especially at looking at the glass as half full... I am sure that it will trigger some hidden sentiments in your readers, as it did for me.”
In my experience, in India (where I am from), society can be uncomfortable and awkward about impediments and often tries to deny or mask them in their children. In that context, the impact of an elder addressing impediments on a multi-generational family group cannot be understated.
I for Impact
Let me confess – I’ve longed to share my experiences with stammering all my life. I’ve wanted to show how stammering isn’t the end of the world and also tell the world how they could help us. And so, when an ex-colleague reached out to discuss her son’s stammering with me, I was hopeful. When she hung up asking me for a speech therapist’s number, I was elated. And validated.
But perhaps the biggest “reward” came almost two months after the piece went live. Janvi, a young mother from Mumbai, reached out on Instagram. She found the piece via an online search and was struck by how positive it was, unlike most of the doom-and-gloom articles on stammering she’d read. Her young son stammers and, while she was very concerned for his wellbeing, she was unsure of where and whom to turn to. We spoke. We shared. And we cried.
By the end, we both felt lighter.
She, because she was reassured that a “normal” life was possible for her son and that she was clear on the role she had to play for him to achieve it.
And me, because for the first time in 25 years of writing, I felt that something I had written had made an impact that my parents had a big part in. And that it was something they would be proud of.
This article has been sponsored by the Psychiatry Research Trust, who are dedicated to supporting young scientists in their groundbreaking research efforts within the field of mental health. If you wish to support their work, please consider donating.
