Finally Treated as an Equal (Spring 1996)
By Jim Ramsey
 
My name is Michael James (Jim) Ramsey and I am a stutterer.
 
I was born in Northern Ireland in 1967, and for as long as I can remember, I stammered. My parents took me, at an early age, to my first therapist at the local school in the village. And her name was Mrs. Basket. Mrs. Basket was a young woman dedicated to her field of work, but regretfully was unable to help me very much. Her diagnosis was that it was an educational problem and suggested that I relearn the language. For the next few years I was affectionately called "the basket case" by other children my age.
 
My childhood years are ones of pain and guilt. I was a loner. I was jealous of other children talking together in flowing words, and I was unable to do so. I can recall with great fear my first day at secondary school. We were all put into a classroom and we had to call out our names. When it came my turn, my eyes flickered and my mouth went into convulsions, and noises were made. It felt as if hours had passed before I spluttered my name out. I felt ashamed and alone. Next day during roll call, when it came my turn, someone called out my name for me. I was relieved by this well-deserved reprieve.
 
Reading is one of my favorite loves. Perhaps during my lonely days, a book gave me the escape that I was searching for. I would read anything from magazines to novels that were deemed too sophisticated for someone that young. I was in great despair when our English teacher made me read a chapter of Wuthering Heights to the class. The chapter was where the ghost of Catherine returns looking for Heathcliffe, and I felt like the ghost of loneliness had come back to haunt me.
 
I did not have many close friends during my childhood. Perhaps it was because I was not very trusting of people or that I preferred to be a loner. I knew that I did not want to be the brunt of jokes and to be the "partypiece." When I mean by this is that people would come to me and ask me to say words that they knew I had difficulty with.
 
In my teenage years I joined the Royal Navy. I was a catering accountant and was assured that, because of my high educational qualifications, I would be promoted within two years. In reality, because of my stutter, I couldn't be promoted, as I would not be able to be a leader of men. I was sent to a psychiatrist, who diagnosed me as a lonely introvert with serious problems.
 
The only part of the interview that I can remember with this man was that he was a Commander and I was a lowly Able Seaman. He tried to get me to lose my temper by discussing the political situation in Northern Ireland. I remember him saying that all Irish people should be shot. I took this as a threat and told him so. Anyway, he wanted to see me again in six months. I declined this invitation, as I knew he would not help me. I decided to leave the Royal Navy and emigrate to Canada to be reunited with my family. (They had emigrated two years earlier.)
 
I came to Toronto in October 1978, and I decided to change my name to Mickey. I did this to be a different person, and perhaps my future would be different from my past, which I hoped to erase totally from my life. Everything went well, until I had to pronounce my name to other people and the stutter did continue.
 
That same year, I went on my first date with a man named Michael. At first I was terrified to call him, but my hormones took over and I plucked up the courage. He was very understanding of me. If opposites attract, this was definitely a case. He is an outgoing person who has run for public office, run a legal clinic, served as a lay reader for the Anglican church, and fought for same-sex spousal benefits. He also fought for sexual orientation to be added to the Ontario Human Rights Bill. We were not compatible by ordinary standards, but we continued in a loving and caring relationship. He would take me to functions, and after introducing me, would leave me to fend for myself, always making sure that I was not left too alone. We would go to political meetings and he would always ask my opinions on topics, not leaving me much time for talk. Somehow we survived against the odds for 17 years.
 
I have been asked many times how gay men deal with me. All I can say is that I am dealt with as an equal. When I first meet someone who does not know that I stammer, I can see a look of surprise in their face. (Perhaps we should all carry white canes!) Then they ask me about my condition. Usually this leads to a story of someone in their family who stutters and how he or she has dealt with it in the past.
 
I am active in a bowling league and I usually do the 50/50 draw or help out in raffles. This I love to do because I get to talk to everyone and never have I had a criticism from anyone. Perhaps we are more sensitive to the feelings of others we are more accepting of others.
 
I have also been asked often how my co-workers and managers deal with me. All I can say is that, again, I am dealt with as an equal. I am not laughed at; nor am I left out of meetings or any other work-oriented situations. At my most recent employer (Baycrest), this was definitely the case. They even went so far as to try to find some funding to pay my registration fees to the Canadian Association for People who Stutter convention. Regretfully, they were unable to, but I know they were all fully supportive of me.
 
I cannot say this was the case in my previous employ. I worked as a bartender for Imago restaurants (Duke of Westminster), where the manager went to great pains to make me the brunt of all his jokes. For example, he told his customers that I went for a job as a DJ, and I didn't get it because I was too short. I took the verbal abuse for many years, and finally took the bar to court over human-rights abuses (this was only one of the abuses). After a long battle, I won my case. Needless to say, I have never been back to that bar!
 

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