OFFEND THAT DEAFIE? IMPOSSIBLE!

As a youngster, most of us are taught what is considered rude and what is considered, shall we say, “politically correct.” But one question might be, do those rules apply for everyone in every situation? I high doubt that every single situation calls for the same response or behavior.

I was teaching a sign language course a week ago and the subject of “Deaf people being blunt” came up. One student spoke out, “So it’s impossible to offend a Deaf person?” Ha! I sincerely doubt there is anyone with normal emotions (Hearing, Deaf, Black, White, Female, Male, etc.),of whom it is impossible to offend. Tell a Deaf person they can’t do something because they’re deaf. I think that might rattle a few cages. In general Deaf people and Hearing people feel things the same way. We’ve just experienced life differently and respond in different ways. It doesn’t make us easy targets for rudeness or bullies.

At a Deaf gathering a while ago, I had a friend ask me how I felt about being so fat. I knew he wasn’t trying to be rude. So I told him, It sucks being fat. I’m working on it.” And let it go. What I wanted to say was,”How’s does it feel to be ugly?” But THAT would have definitely been rude…and politically incorrect (Whatever the heck that means).

Although Deaf and hard of hearing people may have a slight reputation for being blunt, that doesn’t make us a group of people who have no feelings. So, yes, you can offend a Deaf person. And yes, a Deaf person can offend a hearing person. That’s just how life goes. So the next time you feel like testing this theory out, take a moment and think, How would I feel if something asked or said the same thing to me? You might decide to push your OFF button and rethink what you have to say.

How Can I "Eat Fresh" If You Won't Serve Me?

Everyone is different. No two people are 100% alike—no matter how hard you look. The same goes for deaf and hard of hearing people. We run the gamut from totally oral to totally ASL. Some use various types of aids, while others (like me) go au natural. Not only do we differ as people, the same person differs from day to day. At least I know I do. Some days you can’t shut me up. Other days I can hardly lift a finger or utter a sound.

I have to be honest and profess that life in general as a Deaf person can be “easier” when that person uses his or her voice while conversing with hearing people while out in public. That does depend, however, on how well they can speak. I personally see no trouble in carrying a notebook and jotting down my thoughts or needs. However, sadly, many hearing people look at the paper I show them with total confusion. “Why are you handing me paper? What am I supposed to do with this?” Uh…read it?

That’s exactly what happened to me the other day. I was having a no-voice kind of day. Didn’t want to be bothered by how loud or unclear I came off as. I happily toted my notebook with me and hadn’t run into any problems…until…

I was hungry, OK? I really needed something to eat and Subway was calling my name. As I sat in my car outside the restaurant, I happily jotted down—very precisely—the exact sandwich and toppings I wanted. Clear as a bell. Easy—peasy.

When I finally went inside, they were busy with the lunch rush, and, for some reason, I was nervous. I often get nervous communicating with hearing people. Actually, I have a social phobia, so I’m nervous with all people. But not being able to hear and hearing people who can’t sign, just increases my fear a hundred fold.

Anyway, I waited patiently, and when my turn came, I politely handed over the list of what I wanted.

“NO!” the girl behind the counter started mumbling and waved me off. I’m guessing she said something about not being willing to take the paper. I pointed to my ear and told her I was deaf and she just continued talking.

“I can’t understand you,” I gestured. After taking a minute, I realized she didn’t want to touch the paper with her gloves on. That it compromised her sanitary space.

“If you can’t just talk to me, then you need to go somewhere else,” she rudely waved me away. I indicated that I could hold the paper up and she could just read it. Obviously, she couldn’t read, because she refused to do that as well. I was very frustrated. It was clear that this woman, whose job is to serve the public, didn’t want to be bothered with anything “out of the ordinary.”

I didn’t get a sandwich that day. I because so flustered and annoyed that I just walked out. I should have asked to talk with the manager, but I admit that sometimes I simply don’t have the energy to bother.

Why must things be so complicated? Why do so many people freak out if something or someone needs something outside of the “norm?” Being deaf and the needs we have shouldn’t debilitate us. But I can’t look at it as me causing mayhem. It’s the other person making a fairly simple situation more chaotic than it needs to be. It was a piece of paper, for goodness sake! I guess you have to have all your senses and be able to accommodate the workers in order to “eat fresh.” Subway, say it isn’t so!

"What Did She Say?"

We walked into Olive Garden and were seated immediately. The place was quiet since we were early for the lunch crowd.

"What would you like to drink?" was the waitress' first question. I knew what she was asking from past experience, so I went ahead and told her I wanted an iced tea and she went on her way. She returned shortly thereafter to take our food order.

"Are you guys ready to order?"

I watched as Kenny placed his order and then the waitress turned to me and started talking. Not knowing what she was saying, I went ahead and started to order. "I'll have the seafood alfredo, please."

"OK." She said more, so I turned to Kenny to interpret. When he began to sign to me, the waitress' eyes grew as big as saucers. I found out what she was saying and answered -- just as clearly as I had before. She looked baffled -- as if finding out I was deaf completely blocked her brain waves. "Wh--what did she say?" She turned to Kenny to rescue her. "I didn't understand."

Kenny signed to me to repeat myself and I did. Still the waitress stood there, unable to comprehend the words coming from my mouth.

After a minute of repeating myself, I was visibly frustrated, so Kenny finished up the order and the waitress awkwardly walked away.

That wasn't the first time a person was fine listening to me till he or she discovered I was deaf. People find out this information and all of a sudden tit's like the clarity of my voices dissipates and they can't understand me. But, despite the frustration, it's really quite absurd and I often have to laugh out loud. What is it in my voice that changes? Do I start to mumble? Do I start to slur my words like a drunken sailor? No! Nothing changes except the other party sees I'm deaf and that I need sign language to understand them. But since they don't know sign language (It's another story if they think they do), they assume we cannot communicate with each other and they have to ask my husband to talk for me. Nevermind, I've been talking all of my life and didn't lose the bulk of my hearing till I was 27!

Because this happens so often when I'm out and about, I have repeatedly asked my family if my voice has changed. Some have said that my voice has gotten a little deeper, but most people emphatically tell me no. My voice is the same as before I went totally deaf.

So why the comprehension problems? I believe it's gotta be in their heads. I mean, isn't one of the first things you learn about the "death" is that we also can't speak? Deaf mute, right? Before I sign, I look "normal." Then I use my hands and POW! I must be a mute. I must be "deaf and dumb."

Well, let me take this moment to clarify. To not be able to hear -- no matter how deaf a person is -- does not in any way automatically mean they're not able to speak! Everyone has a past and you can't know a person's abilities simply by watching and/or guessing.

Remember this blog the next time you meet a deaf person. Assume nothing! Get rid of all the stereotypes in your head. Just because a person has a disability or comes from a culture other than your own, doesn't mean they fall into a set of characteristics you learned as kid or even an adult. Keep an open mind! But I still have to laugh when people, who have been talking to me, all of a sudden can't understand me and need to ask my family, "What did she say?"

Smile -- There Are Deaf People Nearby

"Smile!" The photographer yells just as he's going to take the shot.

"Smile," your mother says. "You look so miserable!"

"Oh, no! Here comes Ashley. Just smile and nod."

There are several different kinds of smiles and a hundred more reasons to smile. But are they real? I mean are you genuinely happy and do the sides of your mouth naturally turn up when you feel that way?

Nowadays, one can't know whether the person you're next to is actually honestly smiling or if they're faking it (or if they're constipated). And if you're "different" than the immediate crowd maybe the question shouldn't be, "Wow! I wonder what fantastic thing she's smiling about," but rather, "Why is she smiling so hard at me?" It's true!

When I walk into a place with people around, as soon as I start signing and people realize I'm deaf, they start to smile at me as they pass by. That wouldn't be such a big deal if they knew me or were just smiling naturally, but no! The people start to metamorphosis into plastics--mannequins--with, "Please don't talk to me," glaring from their eyes. It's frightening!

I guess I should be used to it after all this time, but it scares me! And this makes me have the same eyes glaring back, echoing, "Please don't talk to me!" In fact, if it's a bunch of people in the same vicinity, I might fart or something to get those terrifying faces to leave. (That DOES work, by the way.)

So here's some advice--
if you're around people, deaf or otherwise, who make you feel awkward, try not to fell obligated to smile. If you make eye contact, give them a small polite smile and then leave them alone. That's what I would prefer. Or maybe just ignore us all together. Now, if you are a skilled signer,that's different. Then by all means, approach me!

Smiles are there to help people express pleasure or happiness. Don't feel the need to do it just because you're nervous. Wait a few minutes and maybe something will happen to give you a genuine reason to smile.

Having the Memory of a Hamster

You know, it's not easy living with an ultra short memory span. Both my short term and long term memory have been affected by various things over the course of my life. I meet people once and the next time I see them I'm like, "WHO are you? Never heard of you."

"Oh, sure! We met yesterday. I came over and dry walled your daughter's room. Remember?"

"Nope. Still nothing. Sorry." I feel bad. I'm nicer about it, but I seriously can't remember people or places...or things...Nouns. Let's just say "nouns."

A couple of days ago I was in Schular's Book Store (a local shop) and decided I wanted a sweet tea (I'm addicted!). When it was my turn, the girl at the counter started jabbering at me. "I'm Deaf," I told her, as I usually do.

"You're DEAF?!?! I LOVE YOU!" Of course she said this as she shoved the sign for "I love you" in my face. (This isn't the first time this has happened to me. Seems a lot of people love me when they find out I'm Deaf).

"Uh, thanks, I just need a large sweet tea to go, please."

"Noooo! Don't go! Stay here and chat with me!"

"No, really. I have a limited time and I need to go look for something."

"Oh...that's so sad. I'm learning ASL at the local college. Watch! A...B...C...D, wait that's F...A...B....C...D, dammit! A...B...C..D, that's right, right?"

"Really, I have to go."

"Oh. OK. Well, bye!"

"Can I have my tea please?"

"Tea?" This woman had the same memory span as I, but I finally made it out of there OK...eventually.

The next day I needed to go to Hobby Lobby. As I approached the counter, a young, blonde woman shouted, "Hi, Michele! How are you?" She signed this all rather well at the same time; even her fingerspelling was smooth."

"Hi! Uh...I can't remember your name."

"Oh, I'm Jessica."

"Hi, Jessica! Where'd you learn to sign so well?"

"From your class. I took your class last Spring."

"Oh, I am so sorry I didn't recognize your face." She smiled and then quickly looked behind me. I looked and...

"Heeey! Remember me? I made you a tea at Schular's yesterday. I'm learning sign language, too," She said to Jessica. "My name is 'Diane.'" She started to fingerspell her name. "D...wait that's F....D. No wait. Grrr." Jessica and I showed her a "D." "No, that's not it. D... (she used an "U" this time)...."

"We gotcha, Diane." Then Jessica and I proceeded to go through Diane's name letter by letter.

I finished up and tried to escape, but Diane followed me out to my car. I was slightly afraid for my life--she was so hyper! But I did survive.

Now, I have a terrible memory and I will probably not remember Jessica the next time I see her, but Diane? Her face is embedded in my brain., It's kind of sad. The students from my classes, whom I cherish, I sometimes forget. But make me wait for a tea and I'll remember you for the rest of my life.

"Huh?"

Anywhere I go, things can get "interesting." Being asked questions, needing to ask questions myself, having to explain to whomever I am in contact with that I'm Deaf and cannot read lips--it gets old and I'm often misunderstood.

The other day had yet another couple of "interesting" experiences. First, I had to go through a fast food drive through for my daughter. Yelling into the speaker and having my daughter "interpret" what was being said--it turned into a yelling match...and not a fun one (as we all know yelling matches can be).

"I want a french fry with cheese and a vanilla shake." I have no idea what they said back. All my daughter did was nod. "What size," I asked her.

"Huh?" was her excellent retort.

"What size shake do you want?"

"Oh. Medium."

"I need a medium vanilla shake." I yelled into the speaker.

My daughter asked, "A second one?"

"Huh?" It must run in the family.

"A second vanilla shake?"

"No. I need the first shake to be medium."

"And what size for the second shake?" the people on the speaker obviously yelled.

"There is no second shake!!!" I was getting pretty frustrated by this point. "I need a french fry with cheese and a medium vanilla shake."

My daughter looked at me and nodded. "OK."

"OK, what?"

"You're done. Please pull forward," she smiled. Man, did I want to hit someone!

Later that day, I took my son to Subway as a way to get out of the house--just the two of us. The place was packed and there were four or five workers frantically trying to keep up with the crowd.

I let my son go first and then it was my turn. I'd been there many times, so I thought I could guess the questions the worker was going to ask me. Wrong.

As he went down the line, he finally stopped and asked me a one-word question of which I had no idea. My son was ahead of my--taking care of his own order--and I didn't want to bother him. Again the worker asked me something....."______?"

"Neutral?" was the only word I could guesstimate from him.

"What??" He was very confused. "_______?"

"Squirrel?" I tried again. I'm very bad at lipreading, in case you haven't guessed yet.

Finally, I think I caused enough stir in the line that my son noticed my struggle. He turned to me, "Mom, do you want it toasted?" Ahhhhhh...........

"Toasted? Really?? Man, I really stink at this. No thank you." We finished our orders and sat down to eat. My son, who is always there to start a great conversation, looked at my for a long time.

"What?" I finally asked. "You look like you have a question on your mind." I said.

"Yeah. I was just wondering, is it hard being Deaf?"

Hmmm. I pondered this and finally answered, "It has its moments. Sometimes good, sometimes bad." I was trying to be nice. What I really wanted to say was with great sarcasm--is it hard being Deaf?

Just a little.........

Say WHAT?

I really appreciate hearing people who know some signs--how they use what they know when they're around me. I know many--if not most--professionals I've been to, in addition to hiring an interpreter, seem to try a few phrases and work from there. They often ask me or my interpreter what the sign for such and such is and so forth.

What happens though is actually pretty amusing. I mean, yes, I should be respectful, and I am. But many of their efforts don't always come across quite the way it was meant to be.

My grandmother died a few years ago. I was able to attend her funeral and it was nice to be around family. As I sat down to wait for the service to begin, my younger sister sits down and slowly, with an evil expression, signs, I'M SATAN! Now, that's one being you do not want to have attending a funeral. (She meant to sign PARANOID about her weight.) After the service I was pretty broken up. My mom saw me crying and signed "ITS OK. GRANDMA NOW WITH QUEEN." I didn't even know she was British. (She meant to sign LORD.)

My DBT trainer has worked well with me and sometimes inquires about how to sign certain things. She asked to learn BIRTHDAY. A week later it was my birthday and my trainer wasted no time calling me a HAPPY MOTHERF*****." It was an honest mistake, but one that will last a lifetime in my head.

Finally, I taught a group of ASL students the sign for MORNING. Six out of 8 came back and started signing "F*** off" instead of a gentler "GOOD MORNING." Careful now.

So, learning signs can be fun, silly, and exciting. But beware--if you're not careful, you may end up wishing and calling people every name in the book. And I don't mean the Bible.

"What Did You Say?"

I grew up with some hearing. Only one ear worked, but the one that worked, worked fairly well. So I spent my growing up years as a "hard of hearing hearie." I spoke and my hearing loss was mild enough that I didn't have any trouble speaking and learning new signs. It also left me able to sing, so I did community and professional musical theatre.

But time went on and, at the age of 29, I found myself stone deaf with absolutely no residual hearing whatsoever.

One thing I always enjoyed--other than live theatre--was English grammar. This includes pronunciations. I was a stickler for correct wording. But after I went deaf, pronunciations because a problem for me (for obvious reasons). We moved to a new state--with its own way of doing and saying things. I had to handle people saying, "Pop," instead of "soda," and seemingly trivial things like that. But how to say names of people, organizations, and even city names proved immensely difficult! My family would sit and laugh and laugh, because I pronounced "genre" as "gen-er," and not "johnrah." I thought they were setting me up and being mean when I found out "pilates," was not pronounced "pilots," or an autistic savant was not pronounced the same as "savage."

Yes, it's true that I'm not very skilled with pronunciations nowadays. It's darn impossible to know these things if I have no way of basing things in it.

I guess it's funny ,in a way, to the people who are listening. I'm just thankful that I use sign language and most of my deaf friends don't have a clue of how badly I speak. At least I try, right? I could just turn my voice off. That'd be the easy way. But I much prefer using my signs in public, saving my words to hearies who can then entertain themselves by embarrassing me.

Demons Be Gone!

I’m not one to mince words. I’ve been known to be more than a little paranoid. Sometimes even closing in on a disorder of being too paranoid. But one day at the library, I just knew I was being followed.

It started out with me sitting by their fireplace reading a book. I had my hair pulled up in a ponytail, so my lack on an ear on the right side of my head was pretty much visible. I wouldn’t say “Lack of an ear.” There’s something there on my head, but it’s a deformity and usually makes people a little uncomfortable. If it were up to me, I’d charge people to touch it and see how much money I could make. “Hey, come touch my deformed head! Only $2.00!” I have yet to try that tactic. Hmmmm…….

So, I’m at the library, reading, enjoying the fire, and Kenny (my hubby) approaches, signs a few things to me, I sign back and he leaves. That’s when I noticed some young boy (maybe 16 or 17 years old) watching me like a hawk. I’m used to staring, but this just have me the heebie jeebies. So, I got up and walked towards the books and where Kenny was.

This boy, too, got up and started slowly following me through the rows and rows of books. I finally found Kenny and said, “Kenny, someone is following me!” For once, he actually considered that it might be true and told me to just stay there with him. And that’s when the boy approached the two of us.

I don’t know his exact words, but the way Kenny interpreted, it seemed that this boy goes to a charismatic church and believed that he could cure my deafness through Christ’s power by a putting on of hands (or whatever you call it). I looked at Kenny; Kenny shrugged. I figured what the heck and said OK. So, the boy cups his hands over my ears, prays and says something and then yelled, “Demons be gone!” (snicker) He then asked if it worked. Alas, no, No difference. “Well, it usually takes a while. Just keep the faith,” and he disappeared off into the other realms of the library.

That was years ago and I’m still stone deaf. Seriously, I don’t believe that it would have worked. It’s just not what I believe in. But the purpose of this story would be to say to my husband that sometimes I’m NOT just being paranoid. Deaf people have weird encounters with the hearing world. This was just one of many.

Which Way Do I Look?

For those of you familiar with or living in the Deaf culture, you must already know the rules of eye contact during communication. The basic rules is to keep close eye contact with the person who is signing to you. One look away can cost you an entire conversation or, even worse, a friend.

It’s one of the rules that many hearing people break—usually unknowingly. However, it does happen when the hearing person knows the rules but doesn’t respect them closely enough. And when I first decided to use interpreters practically on a daily basis, it was very confusing to even me.

I mean, I’m suppose to remain my eye contact towards the person signing to me. That would obviously be my interpreter. At the same time, I felt rude to the person doing the talking. So, who do I look at?

I started going back and forth. When the person talking stopped moving his lips, I would watch the interpreter till she was done and then go back to staring at the talker. Is this so wrong? What exactly do you guys do or what do you experience?

TMI, Here….T. M. I

Ever had the feeling that all eyes were on you? Just when you actually want discreetness, people’s glances seem to gravitate to you and you just want to crawl into a hole and disappear. This happens fairly often for those deaf and hard of hearing people who use sign language. I mean, they can’t go out in public and chat with their friends without getting a few fascinated eyes on them. It’s inevitable.

Having this happen when you’re having dinner or walking around the mall isn’t really that much of a nuisance. After all, one tends to get used to it. But what happened to me last week is not really the kind of thing you get used to. Now, how do I start describing what happened?…Let’s see…OK. It involved a doctor’s office, feminine itching, a doctor, an intern, a nurse, an interpreter, a husband, a speculum, oh, and lube.

I’d been having some trouble…down there…for a few days and wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything serious. The doctor’s office I go to has their own set of interpreters and I always seem to get the one ‘terp I dislike. I don’t know why I dislike her so much, but I do. And, as I’m sure you can agree, you don’t want people you dislike looking at your crotch.

When I arrived that morning, the intake nurse took my information and had me undress. The doctor then came in and we chatted about ponies and mistletoe, Stonehenge and, oh yeah, vaginal irritation. It wasn’t such an odd conversation, surprisingly, and I think that’s the one thing that baffled me.

Dr: How’s it going today?

Me: Well, to tell you the truth, I’m pretty darn uncomfortable.

Dr: Any discharge?

Me: Not that I know of.

Dr: I’m going to have to take a look.

Me: You mean I have to show it to you?

Dr: ‘Fraid so. But office policy states that I need to have a female nurse in here with me. OK?

Me: (long pause) Tell you what. I’ll show you my vagina if you promise to buy me dinner later.

Dr: Hey, that’s my line.

Awkward.

Ten minutes later, the doctor, the nurse, and another relatively tall man walked in.

Dr: I have an intern working with me today. Is it OK if he observes?

Me: Why not? The more the merrier.

Now, this was a very small room. Everyone was crammed in and, because of this, the interpreter had to stand to the side of the table instead of next to the doctor. This was actually helpful in the way that I didn’t need her looking at my privates. However, the way everyone was positioned, I was looking at the ‘terp upside down.

This made everything a little difficult. I couldn’t understand much of what she was signing to me, but it was too uncomfortable to ask for many repeats. So, she would sign, I would nod and mumble, “OK,”(BAD ME!!) and the doctor would proceed.

Dr: I need to use the speculum so I can see better.

What I Caught: I NEED BETTER

Me: OK (Nodding and smiling—even though I hadn’t a clue)

Dr: Jamming a freezing piece of metal into an orifice that just wasn’t ready for that.

Me: Ahhhhhhhh!

Everyone In The Room: (Gasping) Are you OK?!?!?

Me: Oh, I’m dandy. Maybe when you’re finished, I could introduce you all to my parents and we could reminisce about this moment.

Sometimes no one gets my humor.

Luckily, the exam didn't go on too long and the problem I'd been having wasn't anything serious. They were all up and out pretty quickly. Sadly, the only person who wanted to shake my hand as they left was the one that had been digging for treasure a moment ago. 

But there you have it. Too much information? Maybe, but a learning moment? No doubt. Here's the gist of it...

Don’t say, “OK,” when you’re absolutely clueless and when laying down with your feet in stirrups and an audience looking at a part of you that wasn’t meant to be on display. And, above all, if you must go to the doctor and he must look at your Vertical Smile, don’t forget to bring some champagne and flowers to set the mood.