How a Stuttering ID Card Impacted My Experience With Customs
- Feb 24
- 4 min read
Updated: Feb 26
Written by Taylor Worsham, BA, NSA Community Manager
As someone who lives less than five miles from Canada, going over for a day trip, shopping, or dinner is not a big deal and happens relatively frequently for me. However, being the person in the driver’s seat who deals with customs and their questions has never appealed to me because, well… I stutter and don’t handle authority very well.
However, the stuttering ID card from the National Stuttering Association (NSA) recently helped me cross into/from Canada for the very first time by myself. I will be talking about my experience with using the ID card and how it has helped me.
Actually Deciding to Use the Stuttering ID Card
I’ve been pulled over while driving before and accused of lying by a police officer. I have to believe that was partially due to my speech. As someone with a more prominent stutter, I generally find it extremely difficult to verbally disclose that I’m a person who stutters. The ID card allows me to disclose my stutter on my terms. And not only that, but the ID card features positive language around stuttering and explicitly tells people what to do (and what not to do).
To me, it was a no-brainer. I didn’t want any more negative reactions from or with authority. I printed it off, cut it out, and did a corny DIY lamination at home using tape for durability. Because I plan to use it primarily for interactions with law enforcement, I keep it in my car's glove box but plan to print another copy to keep in my wallet.
Using the Stuttering ID Card to Cross for International Travel
I’m approaching my 30s. I have never been to Canada by myself, despite having been there probably over 100 times. But I wanted to visit someone who lives in Canada and I didn’t want to inconvenience him (even though he offered to drive me) or the people around me by being my chauffeur. I knew this was something that I would probably have to do someday and that I should just get it out of the way now.
I was terrified, not at the thought of traveling internationally, but because I was afraid of how customs would react. I’ve been made fun of for my speech more times than I can count, even as an adult. I’ve even had nightmares about crossing the International Bridge. And if it’s any indication of how nervous I was, according to my Apple Watch, my heart rate was 128 while I was completely still.
But I kept remembering what Matice Morris said during her speech at the NSA’s 2023 Annual Conference: “Feel the fear and do it anyway. Do the thing that scares you the most, and you’ll see that fear is only a mental mountain, where, on the other side, is confidence.”
So I swallowed my fear and did it. I told myself over and over, aloud, “I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.”
Crossing the International Bridge & Dealing With Customs
I drove up to the toll booth to pay the $4.50 toll. The woman asked me how I was doing that day.
“Grrrreat!” I said, clearly stuttering.
She gave me an odd look and started chuckling as she was running my card.
“Did you have your Frosted Flakes this morning or what?”
“You know what, yes, I did!”
Both of us started laughing. Hey, I’ll take this over someone blatantly mocking me… and I can appreciate a good joke. And as Mike Molino said, if you take everything too seriously, why bother?
I pressed on and drove across the nearly 3-mile International Bridge into Canada. Nobody was waiting in line at the port of entry. I got right in. I took a deep breath and started recording on my phone just in case. I pulled up to the window to talk to customs. It was a friendly-looking older gentleman. I decided to be very mindful of how I presented the ID card. I handed it over first, waited a moment, then gave him my passport.
“Where are you from?” he asked me first.
I answered with my city and state. My stutter was certainly making itself known. It probably took me 30 seconds or more to say only four words. I was very nervous.
“Where are you going?” he asked me.
I answered.
“Have a good day,” he said and handed me my ID card and passport back.
“Thank you.”
Returning to the US that evening was also equally as easy. I pulled up and handed the nice-looking woman the ID card first, then my passport.
“What were you doing over in Canada?” she asked first.
“Visiting a friend.”
“Where does your friend live?”
I answered succinctly with the city in which my friend lives.
“Just for the day?”
“Yes.”
“Are you bringing anything back?”
“No.”
(When you pull up to the booth to talk to customs, a picture of your car shows up on the officer’s screen. My license plate clearly relates to stuttering and she said, “Fair enough,” which we both found a little funny.)
“Welcome home.”
“Thank you.”
Paying the toll back into the US was easy and nothing really happened there. These experiences were both super easy and I honestly have the ID card and the fact that customs was so kind to thank for that.
Conclusion
A few years ago, I never would’ve thought I would be able to do anything like this. And that’s not an understatement. I felt so much shame and so much stigma around my stutter that I pretended like it didn’t exist. I let it hold me back. I let it define who I was and what I did. However, since finding the NSA and finding acceptance, I am constantly doing things that I never thought possible.
The stuttering ID card made a potentially stressful situation into one of ease and mutual understanding. Not only is this card important for me to easily disclose to people as a person who stutters, but it’s also important for the listener so they are not caught off guard or make false assumptions about me or the situation. When you’re dealing with law enforcement, the stakes are so much higher and misunderstandings can escalate quickly.
This ID card is an extremely mutually beneficial tool that, in my opinion, every person who stutters should have. You can get yours here.