The Day I Learned Vulnerability Is an Act of Generosity
“Help” is the bravest word you can say
“I love you Mike, and I respect what you’ve done. But I can’t be on your team.”
I looked at the man sitting across the conference room table. “What are you talking about?” I replied thinking he was joking as there was no way he would be saying this in front of the entire team during my first day as sales manager.
“I’m sorry,” he said, with his normally confident eyes glued to the floor. “It’s your stutter. I can’t have you talking to my clients. I got kids, man. You understand, right?”
Like a lot of people who grow up with a stutter or any other trait that isn’t the “norm,” I got picked on and I got called names. As a kid, even though I’d often laugh along as a survival mechanism, these comments destroyed me. None of the jokes, jabs, and laughs behind my back, however, compared to the pain and rage I felt that day when a 37-year-old man whom I’d sat beside from day one on the job said he wouldn’t be on my team because of my stutter.
I wish I could say I remained calm at that moment. But I didn’t. I jumped out of my chair and dug into the man as if I was trying to reach China. The remainder of my team sat speechless, unable to blink. “What do you mean you can’t have me talking to your…