Behind the Boards: Real Stories from Spelling Sessions

Every time I sit beside a speller, letterboard in hand, I remind myself: I am not here to teach them intelligence. I am here to witness it.

Because behind every pointed letter, every trembling finger, every deep breath — is a story. A voice. A person finally being heard.

Spelling to Communicate (S2C) is not just about letters. It’s about life.

Today, I want to take you behind the boards — into the moments that changed me. Not because of how “well” someone spelled, but because of the truth, courage, and beauty that poured out.


🌱 “I’m Not Stupid. I’m Just Silent.”

I remember my very first session as a PIT with a open and fluent young boy, about 15 years old. Energetic, curious eyes. Nonspeaking, according to his medical records. “Limited understanding,” they said.

Until we gave him a letterboard.

His first full sentence?

“I’m not stupid. I’m just silent.”

His mom wept. I held back my own tears. That day, I realized I wasn’t just holding a board — I was holding the key to someone's locked world.

πŸ’” “Please Tell My Teacher I Know Everything.”

Another moment I’ll never forget was with a teenage girl who had been in special needs education her whole life. Always quiet. Always compliant. The “easy one” in class.

After months of support, she spelled:

“Please tell my teacher I know everything. I just couldn’t show her.”

I sat in silence for a moment. It wasn’t just about academics. It was about dignity. About all the years she had been overlooked, under-challenged, and unheard.

πŸ’¬ “I Have So Many Things to Say, But No One Asks.”

There was another girl who spelled with incredible speed and clarity. Philosophical, even. One day, I asked her, “What’s something you wish people knew about you?”

She spelled:

“I have so many things to say, but no one asks. They assume I have nothing to offer.”

That hit me like a punch to the gut. How many voices go uninvited? How many opinions never get a platform?

πŸ’ž It’s Not Just for the Speller — It Changes Us Too

If I’m being honest, I’ve changed more than any of the children I support.

They’ve taught me patience that goes beyond silence.
They’ve taught me that intelligence isn’t always loud or quick.
They’ve taught me that love is often spelled out slowly, with shaky hands and brave hearts.

These are not just “sessions.” These are conversations with souls who’ve waited too long to be heard.

πŸšͺ An Open Invitation

If you're a parent, a teacher, a therapist — or simply a human with a heart — I urge you: don’t assume silence means absence.

Ask.
Invite.
Support.
Believe.

Behind the boards, there are voices. Real ones. And they have stories to tell — stories we all need to hear.

πŸ“£ Let’s Listen Differently

I’ll continue sharing these stories (with consent and respect for privacy) because the world needs to know: nonspeaking is not non-thinking. It’s time we stop measuring ability by speech and start creating space for all types of communication.

Because everyone deserves to be heard. Even if they have to spell it out.

πŸ’¬ I'd love to hear from you:
Have you ever been surprised by someone’s voice, insight, or story — once you truly listened? Comment below or reach out. Let’s keep the conversation going.

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