Living the CODA Life

Being different growing up can be a tough road to hoe. Whether it’s braces or glasses or anything to make you stand out or set apart from the usual crowd, being different can just stink. But sometimes a kid will get lucky and be able to use his “difference” for good. Being a Child of Deaf Adults (CODA) is no different.

As you all may know, I’m the mother of three hearing/signing children. All three sign well and communication in the house flows pretty well. Whenever they have friends over or I’m at their school and need to talk with them in front of their peers, they all seem pretty easygoing about it. So, I decided to interview each one in private to see what they truly think…

ME: What is the best thing about being a CODA?

MOLLIE (age 17): Knowing a different language and meeting new people.

JACOB (age 15): I learned other ways to communicate and it’s fun.

NATALIE (age 13): It’s interesting to be able to sign and impress others with it.

ME: How about the worst thing?

MOLLIE: I get offended when someone talks about deafness being a bad thing.

JACOB: When I make a mistake or someone has a hard time reading my sign and I have to keep repeating myself.

NATALIE: I guess when I’m trying to talk and sign real fast and it’s easier just to talk.

ME: Are you singled out or teased at school when they find out your parent is deaf? Have you ever been?

ALL 3: No.

JACOB: The other kids think it’s cool to use my hands to talk.

ME: On a scale of 1 – 10, how well do you think you sign?

MOLLIE: 8

JACOB: 7.5

NATALIE: 8

ME: Have you ever felt resentful that you have to sign when your mom’s around?

MOLLIE: Only when I’m trying to have a private conversation with someone else.

JACOB, NATALIE: No.

ME: And, finally, is there anything you’d like to say about being a CODA or having a signing deaf mother?
MOLLIE: It’s no different than having two hearing parents. I just get to be bilingual!

JACOB: Study hard and try to have fun with it.

I think the interviews went well and my kids seemed to feel comfortable being honest and open. It just goes to show all the naysayers that deafness doesn’t really affect parenting in and of itself. Just like everything else in this world—different doesn’t mean worse. 

TAKE A PICTURE -- IT LASTS LONGER

“Mom, why is everyone staring at us,” my daughter asked me the other night, as we were eating at Cici’s Pizza.

“I’m guessing they’re seeing us sign to each other and are curious,” I responded.

After all, sign language is such a beautiful language, right? (groan)

Day in and day out, I am inevitably approached by hearing people who claim, “Oh, I wish I knew how to sign. It’s so beautiful!” And it is. I love my language, don’t get me wrong. But, man, oh, man, I just get so tired of having people say it to me. I mean, how many people, when noticing two people speaking, say, Italian, to each other, approach them and try to tell them how beautiful the language is? And come to think of it, how many people in that same situation would go stand within hearing distance and eavesdrop on the two Italians just because “it’s so cool”? Comparatively speaking, I’m betting it is few.

I’m guessing that, because ASL is visual, we get more attention when using it than people who use other foreign languages that are spoken. That’s totally understandable, too. And then there’s the “unusual” factor. Many hearing people have not knowingly encountered a deaf person. So, when they actually get to see one—using their language, no less—it’s captivating. “Wow! It’s an actual, real-live deaf person!”

I suppose I can’t be too judgmental here, because, I’ve done the same thing. When I see people who are “different” than the “norm,” I’m apt to look. I’ve even found myself staring once or twice. Was I embarrassed? Absolutely. Was I wrong? Absolutely.

Although I can understand the curiosity of seeing something that you don’t see often (or possibly have never seen before), it gets so tiring to always BE that thing. I’m sure other groups feel it, too. How many Amish people, when entering a city, get tired of being the center of attention because of the way they’re dressed? How many quadriplegics get frustrated when they attempt to go out with friends and family and everyone in their vicinity wants to watch and see how they do, well, everything? And how many little people become angered because everyone wants to see what they look like and how they accommodate for their size?

It’s no different with us deafies. Just once I would love to go out with my family into a public place and not feel like we’re the Saturday matinee. I feel like I should be selling popcorn, for Pete’s sake. I know it’s beautiful, people. OK? Thank you! But please stop staring!

I think I’ve decided what I’m going to do about this, though. I try to be lucrative, you know. So I’ve decided to start stocking up on disposable cameras. Now, when I do venture out and get as much attention as the five o’clock news, I can simply approach the person(s), hand them one, and charge them ten bucks. Seems fair to me.