Deaf Female

     I took a Gender Studies class a few months ago and the first assignment was a 150 word essays on what your gender means to you.  Upon reflection, being female alone did not impact me as much as being female and deaf as you will soon read.

     I am female and I am deaf.   I am deaf in a hearing world and to me that is analogous to being female in a male world.

     Just as females used to disguise themselves as males to get jobs and avoid discrimination, I can almost disguise myself as hearing to blend in and interact with hearing people.  It is hard.  When I am hurt, or misunderstood, I most often blame my deafness rather than being female.  Being deaf is not easy – there are so many more opportunities for miscommunication, misunderstanding for me than for most hearing people.

     I believe being female has impacted how I view myself as a deaf individual.  I describe myself as a silly little girl in my own head, not because of how I have been raised or how the world treats me, but it is how I feel with my own deafness.  If I cannot hear someone, if I misunderstand, then immediately I withdraw into myself because I do not feel brave.  I feel clumsy.  I feel weak.  Worse of all, I feel stupid.  All of these are unfortunately associated with the negative stereotype of a silly little girl.  

     Sometimes I find the courage to break the stereotype and ask questions and clarify things; sometimes I do not.  Either way, I feel like this can only be part of being human.  One thing I have learned from being human is that even when the world seems most inaccessible to a deaf female like me I know that there is always an open door somewhere, I just have to find it.  And I will!

Speechless

     I think the weirdest book I read in 8th grade was The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain.  I thought Mark Twain was a classicist—elegant prose, far-fetched adventures.  Thirteen year old me had no idea that one of America’s greatest writers was popular for breaking with classical traditions and writing in dialect.  I did enjoy the read, however Huckleberry Finn also dealt with some dark topics like parental abuse and slavery.  I did not fully appreciate the book until I was a senior in high school and revisited it in AP Literature class.  

     When I read it with more maturity, there was one thing that struck me, perhaps more so in my second reading than my first—the scene of Jim discovering his daughter was deaf.  Jim tells Huck how much he misses his family, and mentions his worst memory.  When Jim was back at home, he told his daughter Elizabeth, who was four years old and had previously fallen ill with Scarlet Fever, to shut the door.  She ‘ignores’ his order, ‘smilin’’ at her dad.  Jim gets angry because he thinks his daughter is disobeying him and hits her.  

… when I come back, dah was dat do’ a-stannin’ open yit, en dat chile stannin’ mos’ right in it, a-lookin’ down en mournin’, en de tears runnin’ down.  My, but I wuz mad.  I was agwyne for de chile, but jis’ den - it was a do’ dat open’ innerds - jis’ den, ‘long come de wind en slam it to, behine de chile, ker-blam! - en my lan’, de chile never move’!  My breff mos’ hop outer me; en I feel so - so- I doan know how I feel.  I crope out, all a-tremblin’, en crope aroun’ en open de do’ easy en slow, en poke my head in behine de chile, sof’ en still, en all uv a sudden I says pow! jis’ as loud as I could yell.  She never budge!  O, Huck, I bust out a-cryin’, en grab her up in my arms en say, ‘O de po’ little thing! de Lord God Almight fogive po’ ole Jim, kaze he never gwyne to forgive hisseff as long’s he live!’ O, she was plumb deef en dumb, Huck, plumb deef en dumb -en I’d ben a treat’n her so!¹

Modern English Translation (roughly): “… when I come back, the door was still standing open, and the child was standing in front of it looking sad and crying.  My, but I was mad.  I was going for the child again, but just then - it was a door that opened inward - just then, there came a wind and slammed it behind the child, ker-blam! - and my lord, the child never moved!  My breath escaped; and I feel so - so- I don’t know how I feel.  I creeped out, trembling, and around and open the door softly, and poked my head in behind the child, quietly, and all of a sudden I said pow! just as loud as I could yell.  She never budged!  O, Huck, I bust out crying, and grab her up in my arms and say, ‘O you poor little thing! the Lord God Almighty forgive po' ole Jim, because he never going to forgive himself as long as he live!’ O, she was plumb deaf and dumb, Huck, plumb deaf and dumb - and I’d been treating her so!”

     This was the first time I saw the phrase ‘deaf and dumb’ and it disturbed me, because I am deaf.  Since then I have seen the phrase ‘deaf and dumb’ used several times in other classical or older literature.  I have never seen it in modern usage—a good thing.  Today, ‘deaf and dumb’ is a terrible term, some might define it as insulting.  In past usage, like in the age of Mark Twain, ‘deaf and dumb’ was a valid way to describe someone who was deaf.  Valid does not make it right, but dumb’s chief meaning in the past was speechless.  Many deaf people signed and did not speak, then or now.

     The current definition of dumb still includes speechlessness, like “the actor was struck dumb with stage fright,” but now it also means stupidity.  I thought that Twain, or the character Jim, was calling deaf people stupid.  I knew it was not true, deaf people are as smart as hearing people, but it rattled me then.  I am very glad ‘deaf and dumb’ is an antiquated phrase, but I found it interesting that ‘deaf and dumb’ existed at all.  The modern definition of dumb means both speechless and stupid.  Did that mean being speechless equates being stupid?

     To hearing people of the past, perhaps this definition was true—being speechless meant stupidity.  If someone could not voice their opinion, state a coherent thought, or recite an eloquent speech, then that someone was dumb in both meanings of the word.  Not everyone recognized sign language as a language.  Even today, some people still question whether American Sign Language (ASL) could be called a language.

     To them I would answer, ASL is a beautiful language.  Understanding ASL is like entering another plane of existence; it opens a whole new world of possibilities and communication.  In the past, people just did not recognize the potential of signing to replace speechlessness.  Their biased views were not limited to signing, but also to other languages.  To them foreign languages sounded uncivilized, barbaric—barbaric comes from the Latin word barbarus ,which means foreign!  

     It is not the language that matters—communication matters.  It would be too easy to consider anyone I do not understand ‘dumb,’ but if I group people in that category, I would dismiss many glorious minds, kind hearts, and helping hands.  Some examples of people whom I do not understand in their native language:  Doestevsky, Virgil, Rumi, or Zhuangzi.  Do I consider them ‘dumb?’  Of course not!  I do have to overcome a communication barrier in order to understand their philosophy or art, but thankfully, there are translators!  Now I can read (understanding is another thing!) Crime and Punishment, The Aeneid, Rumi’s many poems, and Zhuangzi’s philosophical thoughts.  Never assume someone is dumb, just because they do not share your language.
     In biology class you will learn that humans are part of homo sapiens, which is Latin for wise person.  So humans are smart, regardless of the ability to speak Latin!  Does that leave you speechless?

Footnote

1 - Twain, Mark.  Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Edited by Victor Fisher and Lin Salamo.  (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2001). 201-2.

Team You!

     If you’re a sport fan, then you probably have a favorite team whom you cheer on every single game.  Or alternatively, maybe you are part of a team and you play the game, cheer on your teammates, take heart from the eagerness of the crowd.  You know that every member of a team is critical, from the coach to the reserve player.  A team is bigger than what is on the field - there are players that are never on the field.  They are no less important and include the team manager, physical therapist, locker room janitor, field coordinator, etc.

     A team can also be a support network.  A team can be a net.  Life is a game and you are the main player, the hero of your own story.  Your team includes all the people who help and support you - family, friends, teachers, neighbors, community, doctors.  Being deaf or hard of hearing means that you have some people with specific roles on your team – interpreter, audiologist, speech therapist, deaf school coordinator, etc.  Everyone on your team wants to help you through the good and bad in life.

     I call my team Team Chloe.  It includes my parents, my teachers, every speech therapist that I had since 18 months old, my neighbors, and many more.  It is a big team and they have helped me so many times.  For example, in my article Difficult Teacher, all the teachers who helped me get through to that stubborn teacher were a part of Team Chloe.

     Sometimes though, life gets tough and you feel alone.  That is a very sad feeling, because you need help but you don’t feel you can ask anyone for it.  The solution is this – you have to reach out, find someone, and ask for help.  Maybe you are having difficulty with a tough class – so you need to ask a teacher, a tutor, or a friend who’s doing well in that class for help.  Maybe you need to open up about something, which can be the hardest thing in the world, in which case you need to find someone you might trust, such as a friend, a counselor or a family member.

     I say that opening up about something is the hardest thing, because I’m not an open person.  Freshmen year of college, I was homesick and felt so alone.  There was no one that I trusted and it seemed like I was drowning in the mountain of homework and social pressure.  I had three separate meltdowns in the space of three days.  Needless to say, I was not in a good place.  This was also a time, when I was geographically separated from everyone I knew.  Everyone who was on Team Chloe was in New Mexico – I was in California.  Then I asked an RA (Resident Assistant who live in the dorm) for help.  It is embarrassing to cry your heart out, but that’s what I did, and the RA listened and helped me work through all my issues.  Mostly I just needed to learn to expand my team with people from my new college.  My RA was a helpful starting point – Welcome to Team Chloe!

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     Your team is only be built by trial and practice.  In life, your team will grow every year.  There will be tough times, and you might fall down more than once, but a team is there to make sure you get up again.  You might even be part of someone else’s team.  Just remember in any case, you have at least one person on your team – me!  I want to help you succeed in life, to be happy, and to achieve your goals.

Difficult Teacher

     Now for a rare story of do as I say and as I do.  This one has a much happier ending than the previous story.

     I was excited to take an AP class in high school.  The teacher was new, but very skilled.  At the start of every school year, I emailed and met with all my teachers to go through my classroom accommodations, but since this teacher was new, and was not there when I had my meeting, I could only email him.  I thought everything would be fine.

     First day of school, the AP class was my first class of the day.  I had the microphone, a new notebook, and an eager brain – in short, everything I needed to learn.  I arrived early and met my new teacher for the first time.  I introduced myself and gave him the microphone.  He shied away and waved the microphone away, “Oh no, I can’t wear the microphone.”

     This being the first day of class, I was shocked and stunned.  No other teacher ever declined to wear the microphone.  I took the closest seat to the front in silence, wondering what to do.  I knew I could survive a day without a microphone, so for the moment I thought I would be fine.  I forgot to take into account that the lights in the classroom were turned off for computer work, so the only light came from computer screens and the gaps in the windows’ blinds.  I survived that class by some miracle with some introductory notes and concepts written in my notebook.  Immediately, after that class, I went to find my IEP case manager, who fortunately taught in the classroom next door.  I told my case manager about what happened.  He nodded and said he would talk to the new teacher.  I also told my parents about the new teacher and we all hoped for the best the next day.

     Second day of school, I showed up even earlier and talked to my case manager.  He said he had talked to the teacher, the teacher had nodded and agreed in all the right places, but, ultimately, he was not sure that he gotten through to the teacher.  I went into the dark classroom again.  I got a similar reaction from the teacher.  He said, “I don’t need the microphone.”  This time I protested a little, “But I kinda need it.”  I had weak protesting skills at that time.  The new teacher brushed away my comment and again I went to my seat.  Now I was shocked, stunned, and frustrated.  I spoke to the new teacher after that class.  I told him this was not okay.  He said he would try to work something out with my case manager.  I told my case manager what had happened, and he said he would try talking to the new teacher again.  I struggled more and now my next class was affected by my exhaustion from lip-reading in the dark.  

     I told my parents again.  My parents at this point were uneasy and they contacted the principal.  They also said that if the teacher was giving me too much trouble that I could always drop the class, as it was an elective and not a required class.  Here my stubbornness came in handy.  I was taking that class, difficult teacher or not!  I also started preparing for the worse by researching the American Disability Act and disability laws.I looked at other options instead of using the microphone – maybe I could ask for an ASL interpreter (but my ASL was quite weak and out of practice), or an oral interpreter (someone who would mouth the words the teacher was saying), or captioning.  Any of these alternatives would be okay options if the new teacher still did not want to wear the microphone, but using the microphone would be easier and less costly.  Given my stubbornness, there was no way I’m letting a teacher keep me from learning!

     Third day of school, the computer science teacher still refused to wear the microphone.  To this day, I still do not know why he did not want to wear the microphone.  He might have been paranoid that the blue-tooth microphone was transmitting and recording his voice for some sinister purpose (it was not), and I contacted the school’s audiologist for help on that front.  This time the principal was prepared to talk to the new teacher.  He still didn’t get how much I needed the microphone.  My parents were of the mind for me to drop the class, but I wanted to take this class.  This teacher was driving me to crazy stubbornness.

     Fourth day of class, once again without the microphone, it culminated in one big meeting – the new teacher, the principal, the audiologist, my case manager, a supporting teacher who had worn the microphone with no issues the year before, and me.  There could be a variety of reasons that changed the new teacher’s mind – the principal was quite serious, the audiologist and other teacher reassured him that the microphone was only to benefit my learning and understanding, and I was unrelenting.  After that meeting, the new teacher reluctantly agreed to wear the microphone.  Over time it got better the more he got used to wearing the microphone.  I could finally hear what he saying!  Best of all, he never made me feel bad about forcing him to wear the microphone.  I think he understood that the microphone was a huge deal to me.

     At the end of the year, I earned an A in the AP class, and scored high enough on the AP exam to get college credit!  I learned not only the subject of the class, but also stronger advocacy skill from the new teacher.

    If I had had this teacher six years earlier, I would have loved him for not wearing the microphone, but ultimately I would have hurt myself by not using the microphone.  My parents were really proud of me for standing up for what I needed - especially for the microphone - they remembered when I hated the microphone and the hearing aids (See “The Talk,” May 2013 blog). 

Ask for help!

     Remember way back when, I said “do as I say and not as I do... “ well here’s another one of those stories. 🙂

     One of my greatest weaknesses is to bite off more than I can chew.  Then doubling down on my choice by being stubborn to the point of hurting myself.  I will not ask for help when I should, even though I know I should.  There are a thousand things I could have done better in my past, but I have to learn my lesson and become stronger!

     Last quarter, I bit off more than I could chew.  I took close to the maximum allowed course units including very challenging classes.  Some, like computer science, math, and physics, were going towards my major, while some were for potential minors.  One of those classes was the second year of Italian.  

     In high school, I loved learning Latin.  I visited Italy once to see Roman ruins and fell in love with both modern and ancient Rome.  Additionally, ever since I was little, I had a dream of being fluent in more than one spoken language.  I would gobble up books on Spanish, German, Italian, Latin, Japanese, even ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.  I took the first year of Italian with very few problems.  I loved learning ASL and computer languages too.  My teachers were nice and supportive, but I rarely asked for help.  I struggled to ask for help.

     Last quarter, Italian 2 was much harder.  In Italian 1, we studied from books and spoke to each other (students and teachers) in class very slowly.  Italian 2 was much more intense and immersive in Italian culture.  I treated Italian the same as my other classes – I used the microphone, and sat near the front, but that was a mistake – I needed more help when listening to a new language.  My teacher showed uncaptioned YouTube videos in class.  My teacher assigned movies without subtitles to watch outside of class.  Everyone else learned in leaps and bounds, but I was struggling.  

     I told my teacher I could not watch videos without captioning – he understood, but there were no captioning for the YouTube videos, and we had no idea how to overcome that hurdle.  And I was frustrated because I was having a harder time hearing my peers.  Everyone spoke too fast for me.  I did not know how to ask for help.  Additionally, while trying to keep up with Italian, I was now struggling in my other classes.  Computer science was usually easy for me, but growing more difficult.  Math problem sets were often put off till the last minute because I was watching the Italian news segment for the umpteenth time.  I excel when I have something to read and follow.  I fail when I hear incomprehensible speech and need to back up more than once.

     I stuck with Italian 2 way longer than I should have.  At no point did it occur to me to ask my Office of Accessibility for help.  The office could have found a captioner for the YouTube videos, the office could find movies with working subtitles.  But how could I ask for help?  I was swamped with the maximum course load.  I was stubborn - I wanted to learn Italian like the other students, but in doing so I was putting more strain on my brain and neglecting my other classes.  When I finally did ask for help, it was too late.  I cried the night I dropped Italian.  I cried the day after.  I was so angry at myself for not asking for help.  I was angry at myself for being so stubborn.  I was angry at myself for not accomplishing the impossible, for not being superhuman and getting good marks in all my classes.

     However, my other classes soon begin to bloom.  I was no longer attached to Italian, and I could do my math problem sets with time to spare.  Computer science became my most enjoyable class.  Physics was understandable for once!  By cutting a class and giving my stubborn ego a good blow, I could excel again.  I asked for help in my other classes.  I learned from my mistakes.  My performance and understanding of my other subjects started an upward trajectory.  And I felt much better in the long run, not stretching my brain to the max.

     I still want to learn Italian, but I learned several lessons from this quarter.  The most important lesson is to ask for help not when I am about to have a mental breakdown, but earlier at the first sign of trouble.  Another equally good lesson is to not take the maximum allowable course work, to know how much I can actually swallow at once.

     P.S.  Because I survived this quarter with its ups and downs, I did reward myself by getting Harry Potter in Italian, and am currently reading it and continuing my study of Italian at my own pace.  Arrivederci!

College Journey - Video

Here's a presentation I did last summer on the college process for Hands & Voices New Mexico.  The lighting is not ideal for signing or lip-reading, but I made sure the YouTube captioning works.