I have no memory when I began to stutter as a child. Yet, I have no memory of ever not stuttering as a child. This imperfection got me into difficulty, especially in the first grade. The teacher would assemble a circle of students to read at loud. Inevitably, when the reader got two seats away from my turn I would start a fight. And then I would be kicked out of the reading circle. By the end of the first grade at Edgemont Public School, they strongly urged my parents to enroll me in a private elementary school, Brookside.
At Brookside my academic achievement was minimal. By the fifth grade again the school recommended I apply to another private school, Montclair Academy. Again my academic achievement was low. Montclair Academy recommended to my parents I see a psychiatrist. The arrangements were duly made by my mother.
On the appointed day to see the doctor my mother dropped me off at his office and said he was expecting me. I was welcomed by the doctor and told to come into his office, where he asked me why I was there. I had no answer other than my mother had brought me and she would be back in an hour.
The psychiatrist looked a little puzzled. He asked me-
"Do you have any problems?"
I was at a loss for words. No one had ever asked me that question.
"Well, yes, I guess I do"
"Will you tell me?"
"OK, .......... I stutter."
"I don't think I can help you much on that. What else?"
"I still wet my bed and I am in the sixth grade"
"Oh, I don't think I can do much about that, either."
"I hate my name Sherrill."
"Sherrill? That is an unusual name."
"I hate it. Kids call me Shirley Temple, and I have to fight them."
"Well, I may be able to help you on that one. I'll talk to your mother and maybe we can change it."
My mother agreed to change my name, but that is the only appointment she ever made with that or any psychiatrist.
After chatting with the doctor a bit more, he asked me." May I ask you one more question, before you leave?
"OK."
"Which would you rather stop first? Bed wetting or stuttering?"
That was another question no one had ever asked me.. I thought about it.
"Bed wetting."
Within a month my name was changed. The next year I stopped wetting my bed. However, I did not stop stuttering until I was in my 70s.
At Brookside my academic achievement was minimal. By the fifth grade again the school recommended I apply to another private school, Montclair Academy. Again my academic achievement was low. Montclair Academy recommended to my parents I see a psychiatrist. The arrangements were duly made by my mother.
On the appointed day to see the doctor my mother dropped me off at his office and said he was expecting me. I was welcomed by the doctor and told to come into his office, where he asked me why I was there. I had no answer other than my mother had brought me and she would be back in an hour.
The psychiatrist looked a little puzzled. He asked me-
"Do you have any problems?"
I was at a loss for words. No one had ever asked me that question.
"Well, yes, I guess I do"
"Will you tell me?"
"OK, .......... I stutter."
"I don't think I can help you much on that. What else?"
"I still wet my bed and I am in the sixth grade"
"Oh, I don't think I can do much about that, either."
"I hate my name Sherrill."
"Sherrill? That is an unusual name."
"I hate it. Kids call me Shirley Temple, and I have to fight them."
"Well, I may be able to help you on that one. I'll talk to your mother and maybe we can change it."
My mother agreed to change my name, but that is the only appointment she ever made with that or any psychiatrist.
After chatting with the doctor a bit more, he asked me." May I ask you one more question, before you leave?
"OK."
"Which would you rather stop first? Bed wetting or stuttering?"
That was another question no one had ever asked me.. I thought about it.
"Bed wetting."
Within a month my name was changed. The next year I stopped wetting my bed. However, I did not stop stuttering until I was in my 70s.
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