MOUTH TO HAND LEARNING CENTER

FINALLY

By Brett Schaffran

At 34 I spoke my first word. I am a speller, and my name is Brett Schaffran. All my life there was the desire to speak: but my mouth doesn’t listen to my brain. For a long time I believed I might one day be able to, but when I realized that would never happen, I despaired. Almost all of us are seen by the world as incapable. But given the right supports, we are very capable indeed.

My life has changed so much in the past year. Feelings of joy are now the norm for me, rather than the exception. My dream of talking has come true…and I want to finally be heard.

6/22/2026 2 Comments

Kicking Ass

Being in a time of historical importance is fascinating. COVID, for example, won’t have a Hallmark Moment legacy. Well, neither will the typing naysayers. Many have gone to the mat with the belief in their superiority. But in fact they are ninety pound weaklings compared to Judy. I wouldn’t like to meet her in a dark alley when she’s pissed. Seeing as she is now pissed, there are multiple studies that will happen here.

The thing is, all of us are really talking, so why is it so hard to prove? Regulation is the answer. It is incredibly hard to stay regulated. When the smallest thing can send us into panic mode, we struggle to stay calm every minute. Anxiety and OCD rule us.

But it can be proven that we are intelligent and have agency. So watch out for information on being in cool studies. We are going to kick naysayer ass.

2 Comments

5/20/2026 3 Comments

Haunted

Many of my friends are wondering the same thing I am: when will the world believe in us? I am especially sensitive about this because I am one of the oldest students at Mouth to Hand. When my friends from my youth are all still in the silent cage, how can I not brood?

Their parents came to Mouth to Hand and saw me and others spell. They watched me answer their questions. They left refusing to believe what their own eyes told them to be true. It was soul crushing to me: my peers will never be free.

So what has to happen to make people like them believe? That question haunts me.

3 Comments

10/20/2025 1 Comment

OCD Hell

Having OCD is torture. Being compelled to do things you don’t want to do is like being mentally flayed. It sucks your soul by sucking your will. Real Brett is thinking I love my poetry class the most. OCD Brett is thinking I can’t be here. He has no rhyme or reason for his stupid thoughts. But he wins every debate because to not listen means overwhelming anxiety. My OCD suddenly decided I can’t sit in poetry. I am crushed because it is literally my favorite. I have no idea why it suddenly settled on that.

And that’s the horror of it. There is no logical reason for any of the things it settles on. Yet it dictates everything. I am devastated about poetry. I think that the OCD is actually worse than not being able to talk now that I can type. It is endless torment.

1 Comment

8/15/2025 1 Comment

Seeing Me

Today my cousin, Cindi, came to see me talk. It means so much to me that she cared enough to come. Having family see me talk means the world to me. That’s the thing about spelling for communication: people need to see it to understand that we are not cognitively impaired.

Having my family see that I am intelligent is incredibly important to me. All my life they thought I was cognitively disabled...it feels amazing to show them I am not. I am kind of emotional today sitting here with Cindi watching. Today she sees the real Brett. That is so wonderful for me.

1 Comment

7/11/2025 1 Comment

My New Classes

There are so many fun things to do at Mouth to Hand. I am loving my new classes. I am now in a creative writing group, song writing, and a book club…these on top of my poetry class, math, science and art.

The wonder of it all never ceases to amaze me. Just about two years ago I was stuck in programs for the cognitively impaired. That was going to be my lifelong hell. I can hardly bear to think about it. I still think every day about all the other nonspeakers I was in school with who will live that life forever. They are in hell…and their parents refuse to help them.

Anyway, back to my new classes…they rock. I laugh the whole time. Our story in creative writing is hysterical. Song writing is beyond awesome. It’s incredible to see Brian put our lyrics to music. And the book we are reading in my club is fantastic.

So to sum up, I’m happier than I have ever been in my life. There is something to look forward to every day, so I wake up excited, rather than depressed. These days I am happy to be alive.

1 Comment

4/28/2025 0 Comments

Not the Same

Today I spent some of my session having Judy read some of the letters people here have written to RFK. They were amazing, and heart-breaking. The thing I keep coming back to in my own mind is that our disability is the opposite of the actual autism. They don’t understand other people. They are restricted in their interests. We are not only NOT restricted in our interests - we are interested in almost everything. And the main thing about us is that we completely understand other people.

We nonspeakers have a motor disorder and OCD so severe that we have little control over ourselves. We are not the same diagnosis, even though we are called the same. I sincerely hope that science catches on to that soon.

0 Comments

3/3/2025 1 Comment

Look Up Into the Sky

Who could ever have thought that I would be sitting here discussing learning to read Hebrew? At my age, the idea of talking was beyond remote. When I first came to M2H, I had given up on everything. I am, like, still reeling that I can talk. So lessons to learn to read Hebrew are crazy. I am laughing as I write this, ‘cause this is to me like someone telling you speakers that you can learn to fly. It’s fantasy. It’s actually hard to absorb.

We spend our childhoods wanting to talk in the worst way. Then when we’re old enough to understand that it’s never going to happen, we give up. I cannot express in words how completely shocking it is to be able to talk. It is you flying.

So now I will be able to read Hebrew? Forget you flying! - now it’s pigs I see.

The impossible is happening.

1 Comment

2/17/2025 0 Comments

No Limits

When I found out that Alex was reading Torah, memories of my own bar mitzvah resurfaced. It was over twenty years ago, so at a time when everyone believed that I was cognitively impaired. It was a beautiful, and to me heart-breaking, affair. I am into having a real one, now that I can talk. People need to see me read Hebrew from the Torah. That is a dream of mine that can come true.

Why does it matter, you ask. You had a bar mitzvah, Brett, you are thinking. I did not have a bar mitzvah: the cognitively impaired unreal Brett did. He did not learn to read Hebrew because no one thought him capable. Real Brett can and will learn, and then read Torah like a totally normal Jewish person.

Alex has shown us that things we thought were pipe dreams can actually happen. Maybe this dream isn’t impossible. And that means that maybe other dreams are not impossible. Alex got his high school diploma; he showed us all that that is possible too.

So I’ll start learning Hebrew. And then the sky’s the limit.

0 Comments

2/3/2025 2 Comments

My Sister

My parents just asked me if I want my sister to come to M2H. It is a dream of mine to have her see me spell. She has only known me as cognitively disabled Brett. Since I have been able to talk, she needs to meet the real me: we are siblings who have never had the opportunity to talk. That’s water under the bridge now but, I want to have a real relationship with her going forward. We always loved each other, but I couldn’t tell her that in the past. So yes, I am excited about her visit to talk to me. Siblings should always make time to talk to each other.

2 Comments

1/21/2025 0 Comments

Them

Today I wrote a poem to those nonspeakers still trapped within their minds. Many of my friends from school are still stuck in traditional daycare and group homes, and I know they will never get out. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of them. It hurts my heart thinking of those who can’t talk…and never will.

What life they will lead is torture. They will spend their days in daycare programs that are mind-numbing, being talked to as if they are vegetables. They will have no one ever know who they really are. They will have no opportunities to learn. They will never be able to accomplish anything, and any dreams they had for their lives will never come true.

I am going to keep wishing that they get to come here someday. That way my heart won’t ache every day.

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