I was in Chicago for the Friends Convention at the end of July. For the third year in a row, I came home feeling inspired, empowered and emotionally drained. It is hard to describe what happens at a conference with 150 kids who stutter and their parents and other people who care about stuttering. It is the most accepting, caring environment that you can imagine. Newcomers feel loved, welcomed and supported within minutes of walking through the door.

The Friends Convention has such a special feel. You feel it right away. Everything about Friends is low-key and family-friendly. From the homemade "program-in-a-binder" to the chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese buffet meals, you know this is about the kids.

As an adult who stutters coming to a Friends event, motivation is very different. Adults are not there for themselves, their needs, or some type of therapeutic transference. Nope, we go to help, talk to kids and parents, facilitate workshops, and reassure newcomers that stuttering is not a bad thing. How can it be with all these kids stuttering freely, with absolutely no fear or shame or time constraints - and surrounded by their parents?

That is the key. Families and parents talk together about stuttering, what works, and that it is OK to accept stuttering and still strive to be the best communicator possible. They are not mutually exclusive.

All the kids go to the same workshops at the same time, while adults and parents go to their own workshop together. Everything is done with a sense of cohesiveness and the purpose of getting to know one another. We eat together, and there are hospitality rooms for teens and adults, encouraging everyone to hang out and socialize.

At the dinner dance on the last night, shorts, bare legs, flip-flops and even bare feet were the norm. Kids packed the dance floor and hogged the karaoke machine, as it should be. We all got in a big circle, with arms around each other, and sang, "That's What Friends Are For" and "Wind Beneath My Wings." You can't help but feel powerfully connected when engaging like this with each other. Little kids, teens, siblings, parents, grad students and speech-language pathologists all just become people in one big circle touching, swaying to the music, and letting tears fall.

I ran a workshop for adults, attended several, and did videos of parents. I also did some videos with kids on the topic of inspiration. These will be featured as part of a video montage of people who stutter from around the world for the International Stuttering Association in October.

Although I was busy most of the weekend, I still found time to connect emotionally with my own feelings. I was fine the first two days. On Friday evening I chatted with my very good friend Heather and found myself getting emotional. My emotional dam burst on Saturday, and I just could not stop the spill. It started with hearing the very inspiring Alan Rabinowitz, PhD, share his story of connecting with and saving big cats because they couldn't speak for themselves, just as he felt as a kid growing up stuttering. I was choked up and teary for most of his talk. I remained so when I went to talk to him personally for a few minutes afterward. His disclosure of not feeling whole at one point in his life really struck a chord with me.

Shortly after, I listened to a panel of young people, parents and adults tell of "living successfully with stuttering." When firefighter Bob Murphy told his story of seeking therapy as an adult (he has a kid who stutters) so he could have a chance at becoming a lieutenant with the fire department, I got a huge lump in my throat. When he shared that it paid off and he became a lieutenant just last month, I didn't try to hold back the tears and just let them flow. I was so moved.

Then I listened to a powerful closing speech by a therapist who had been a covert stutterer. She spoke with such passion that the tears rolled down my cheeks. I was so happy to be in this place of acceptance and support, but at the same time I felt sad that I never had any of this as a child. For the third year in a row, I was deeply touched. I talked with Kristin Chemela, MA, CCC-SLP, after her speech to let her know how her words had moved me.

Friends has a way of doing this - of connecting the dots, even the ones we thought we had pushed deep down. I am so happy to be part of the Friends organization and to give a little part of myself to the courageous children and their parents.

Pamela Mertz can be contacted at pamela.mertz@gmail.com.