He could still hear the soft chatter of the audience, even though there was a thick red curtain between him and the rest of the world.

He took a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut, once more reciting the lines he already had etched in his memory.

He could feel his blood move under his skin. He could feel his heart beat.

The curtains opened. The light basked him in its glow. The stage was his.

And he spoke.

Sophomore Joshua Szeszol spoke without stuttering and he was proud.

He spoke to prove that he could to those who doubted him.

He spoke flawlessly and uttered the words he had once struggled to pronounce.

He spoke to those children in middle school and in elementary school, to those who had hurt him and mocked the severe stutter that he had since birth.

To those children who had carelessly spread rumours.

To those who had  yelled at him, who shook his shoulders, who told him to “just speak clearly.”

To those who had turned away when he replied with desperation that speaking wasn’t easy for him. His words came with breaks and repeated syllables.

To those who didn’t know that trying to say a fluid sentence, for him, was like physically hitting a brick wall again and again.

To those who couldn’t put themselves in his shoes.

To those who didn’t have to live with the severe stutter that impacted his life for a very long time.

To those who didn’t understand.

To those who didn’t try to understand.

He spoke for his speech and theater family, to let them know that he was grateful for their acceptance.

He spoke for the gift of acting and for his childhood passion.

He spoke for his dreams that took place on the stage.

He spoke for himself.

He spoke because he could.

He can.