I was in Chicago for the Friends Convention this past weekend. For the third year in a row, I came home feeling inspired, empowered, and emotionally drained. It is hard to describe what happens at a conference with 150 kids who stutter and their parents and other people who care about stuttering. It is the most accepting, caring environment that you can imagine. New comers feel loved, welcomed and supported within minutes of walking through the door. Really. Someone scoops the kids up and parents greet parents.

The Friends convention has such a special feel. You feel it right away. Everything about Friends is low-key and family friendly. From the homemade “program-in-a-binder” to the buffet style chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese meals, you know this is about the kids.

As an adult who stutters coming to a Friends event, motivation is very different. Adults are not there for themselves, or our needs or some type of therapeutic transference. Nope, we go to help, and talk to kids and parents and facilitate workshops and reassure new-comers that stuttering is not a bad thing. How can it be with all these kids stuttering freely, with absolutely no fear or shame or time constraints? And surrounded by their parents.

That is the key. Families and parents talk together about stuttering, and what works. And that it is OK to accept stuttering and still strive to be the best communicator possible, at the same time. They are not mutually exclusive goals.

All the kids go to the same workshops at the same time. And adults and parents go to one at the same time. Everything is done with a sense of cohesiveness, and the purpose of getting to know one another. We all eat together, there is only one tour on Friday night,and there are even hospitality rooms, one for teens, one for adults, encouraging everyone to hang out and socialize together, instead of going off in separate groups.

At the dinner dance on the last night, shorts, bare legs, flip-flops or even bare feet were the norm. Kids packed the dance floor and hogged the karaoke machine, as it should be. We all got in a great big circle, with arms around each other, and sang, “That’s What Friends are For”, and “Wind Beneath My Wings” to each other.

You can’t help but feel powerfully connected when engaging like this with each other. Little kids, teens, siblings, parents, grad students, SLP’s – all just become people in one big circle touching and swaying to the music, and letting tears drip a little because we had no free hand to swat them away.

I was busy most of the weekend. I ran a workshop for adults, attended several, and did videos of parents. They are wonderful. Can’t wait to get them posted.  I also did some videos with kids on “inspiration”. These will be featured as part of a video montage of people who stutter from around the world for the International Stuttering Association in October. How inspiring is that? Some of the Friends kids will be featured telling their stories around the world.

I still found time to connect emotionally with my own feelings. I was fine the first two days. Friday evening, I chatted with very good friend Heather G and found myself getting emotional as we chatted about some recent stuff I have been working on. Then on Saturday, my emotional dam burst and I just could not stop the spill.

It started with hearing the very inspiring Dr Alan Rabinowitz share his story of connecting with and saving Big Cats because they couldn’t speak for themselves, just as he felt as a kid growing up stuttering. I was choked up and teary for most of his talk. I remained so when I went to talk to him personally for a few minutes afterward. His disclosure of not feeling whole at one point in his life really struck a chord with me.

Shortly after, I listened to a panel of young people, parents and adults tell of “living successfully with stuttering”. When Bob Murphy, a tough, “wears-his-heart-on-his-sleeve” firefighter, told his story of seeking therapy himself as an adult(he has a kid who stutters) so he could have a chance at becoming a lieutenant with the Fire Department, I got a huge lump in my throat. When he shared that it paid off and he became a lieutenant just last month, I didn’t try to hold back the tears and just let them flow. I was so moved. My heart leaked.

Then I listened to a powerful closing speech by a therapist who had been a covert stutterer. She spoke with such passion, deep from her heart. The tears rolled down my cheeks. I was so happy to be in this place of acceptance and support, but at the same time I felt mournful and sad that  I had never had any of this as a child.

For the third year in a row, my insides were touched in that deep down place that so wishes I had this kind of peace as a young person. I went to talk to Kristen Chemela after her speech,  thanked her and let her know how her words had so moved me. And then I started crying and she stayed present with me for a few powerful moments.

Friends has a way of doing this. Of connecting all the dots – even the ones we thought we had pushed deep down. I am so happy to be part of the Friends organization and happy to give a little part of myself to these daring, courageous beautiful children and their parents.