---

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?
DEAF FAQs: ANSWERS FROM SOMEONE WHO HAS SEEN ALL THE QUESTIONS

 

                I am deaf.

 

                That is probably the single most important thing anyone needs to know about me. Upon being informed of that detail, I have noticed that the majority of people react in one of three ways. One, they don't believe me. Two, they absorb the information and move on. Three, they get that "deer in the headlights look" and think, "She's deaf? What in the hell am I supposed to do now? How in the world am I supposed to talk to
her?"

 

                Whatever the reaction people have upon meeting me, they all have one thing in common: an insatiable curiosity about deafness. A lot of people hesitate to ask me questions, no doubt out of some mistaken belief that I'll be offended. Truth is, I actually welcome the questions. Educating people about deafness and Deaf culture is a passion of mine and after so many years, I've practically heard it all. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not some self-appointed ambassador for deaf people, out to champion for their cause. Not every deaf person feels the way I do about certain issues. I'm all for deaf rights and making this world as equal as possible, but all I really want right now is to set the record straight and correct some of those misperceptions people have.

                So here are the answers to the questions you’ve always wanted to ask, but never did. Here’s a way to grab hold of that knowledge, without grabbing hold of your foot, and sticking it in your mouth.

 

 

                "Deaf? What does that mean?"

 

 

                There are four things that everyone should know about deafness. First, it must be noted that deafness is primarily a communication difference and secondarily, a disability. It is never a handicap ... unless you allow it to be. Helen Keller once said that being blind cuts you off from things, while being deaf cuts you off from people. I have never and will never agree with that statement. When you allow it to cut you off from people and stop you from doing the things you want to do, that is when it becomes a handicap. A disability is a limitation of a person's ability and in the case of deafness, the ability to hear. However, I don't consider myself disabled or limited and I certainly don't allow being deaf to handicap me.  Saying I am disabled implies there is something wrong with me. I see nothing wrong with being deaf. It is simply part of who I am, another identity that I have. I am deaf in the same way that I am a woman, a mother, and a human being. It’s just another piece that makes up a whole. If someone came up to me and told me that there was a cure for deafness, I wouldn't take it. I like who I am, why should I want to change that?

                Secondly, it is extremely important to recognize that all deaf people are not created equal. Take myself for example, I was born hearing, became deaf as a result of having contracted spinal meningitis at the age of eighteen months old and didn't learn sign language until I was nineteen years old. I can speak as well as any hearing person and up until I entered college, communicated primarily through lip-reading. I went to school with hearing kids and was the only deaf person in every school I attended from pre-school to high school. In college, there were quite a few other deaf students and it was at that point that I became involved with the deaf community. There are some that have stories similar to mine, but there is also a vast majority that differs greatly from me. We Deafies, as some of us like to call ourselves, come from all walks of life. Some can lip-read, some can not. Some can speak, some can't and some simply choose sign language as their preferred mode of communication. Some come from deaf families, while most are the only deaf person in a hearing family. Some wear hearing aids in both ears, some only have one and some have none at all.  There are people who view their deafness as a way of life, an important aspect of their culture and there are those who don't take the same kind of pride in their deafness that I do, who believe that it is something to be ashamed of. The lesson to be learned here is that stereotyping can be a very dangerous thing, resulting in a lot of embarrassment ... for the hearing person. Thankfully, it is not a fatal condition and can be overcome.

                Thirdly, deafness does not equal silence. I've seen people try to cover their ears and block out sound in an attempt to understand what it is to not be able to hear. The futility of such an attempt comes not from thinking that such a simple and temporary act could compare to a lifetime of deafness, but from assuming that being deaf means being without sound. All the sounds of the world are available to me, I simply hear it differently. Through touch, I can experience the sound of music and through my eyes I can experience the sound of your voice. It is far from being silent.

                Last, but not least, let's talk about the words, "hearing impaired." I've always wondered just who it was that started all the hoopla about being politically correct. Certainly, I believe that it is important to respect other people and to state things in a polite manner. However, it seems to me to have been taken a bit far. Did anyone think to ask deaf people what they'd rather be labeled? Personally, I hate the words ‘hearing impaired’. The whole thing implies that I'm something that is broken and needs to be fixed. I'm deaf and I'm proud of it. Let's leave it at that.

 

                It would probably be a lot easier if there was a country one could go to, to learn all about the culture, the language and the people. However, that is not the case. Deaf people are spread out all over the world, thereby making it more difficult to learn about us. In my opinion, the best way to learn is to ask questions. It is commonly said that there are no dumb questions, only dumb answers. But let me be honest here and say that there are times that I am astounded at the questions some people ask. I've had people ask me if I know Braille and I've been asked if I know how to read and write. When that happens, I do my best to try and refrain from rolling my eyes while answering politely. Still, when all is said and done, I'd rather be asked the dumb question and given the opportunity to correct them rather than have them go on thinking the wrong thing. So, never be afraid to ask a question ... even if it turns out to be a dumb one.

 

 

                "Can you drive?"

 

 

                This is one of those dumb questions that I was referring to earlier. When I am asked that question, part of me just wants to roll my eyes and say, "Duh! Of course I can. I'm not blind."  But there is another part of me that absolutely loves the question because then I get to tell them that deaf people are better drivers than hearing people and then have them stare at me in disbelief, saying, "Nuh uh!" while I smirk and nod my head.

                Seriously, it is true. There have been studies of hearing drivers versus deaf drivers and research has proven that the deaf drivers are safer. No, it's not that we have better eyesight. The supposition that losing one sense enhances your others doesn't apply to the deaf. We are, however, more visually aware of our surroundings since we're not distracted by aural cues.

                Despite the odd sense of pride I receive from that little tidbit, I can't help but wonder how those researchers conducted their research. I'm betting their data is based on the low number of accidents of the deaf compared to the hearing. I’m convinced of this because if any of those researchers got into a car with a deaf person, I have no doubt they'd conclude we were insane. Just as hearing people talk on the phone while they're driving, I know deaf people who text on their pagers/phones as they drive, which is far more dangerous than merely chatting on the phone since they have to keep taking their eyes off the road just to see what they were typing in. The very fact that there is a sign for that in ASL should clue you into just how popular texting while driving is. It can also be more dangerous to carry on a conversation with a deaf driver since she'll have to keep taking her eyes off the road just to listen or her hands off the wheel to sign something. Really, though, it isn't as bad as it sounds. If it was, deaf people would have more accidents. Maybe there is something to that research after all.

 

 

                "What are you, deaf?"

 

 

                My father always asks me that question, particularly when I've missed something he said. Yes, he is perfectly aware that I am deaf. He is my father, after all. Given the source, the question is rhetorical, nothing more than a running joke between us that never fails to make me giggle. Sometimes I'll answer gleefully, "Yes!" and other times I'll tease him back and say, "Nope, I'm just ignoring you," and the two of us will laugh. It is our way of declaring that despite the little periods of time where our communication fails, we wouldn't want me to be any other way.

                While not exactly a frequently asked question, "What are you, deaf?" is comment that comes into my mind whenever I observe the facial expressions of people who are communicating with me and learning that it is sometimes necessary to continuously repeat themselves and wait patiently while I slowly process everything. There are occasions where I find lip-read extremely easy and occasions where I find it a torturous struggle to understand word after word. One can never predict how skilled a lip-reader I will be at any given moment. Sometimes there'll be times where I have no clue what was said and then hours or even days later, there'll be some kind of sudden comprehension and I'll figuratively smack my forehead, rolling my eyes at the fact that it took me so long to process it. Of course, by that time, the information is useless to me. 

                As I stated before, deafness is primarily a communication difference. Since my ears don't work, it is my eyes that do the listening for me whether it is lip-reading or sign language.  Sometimes, they make mistakes. Accents, beards, mustaches, and lips that barely move are just a few things that make listening all the more harder.  Reading lips involves so much more than merely watching a person's lips for the words. It also involves observing body language and facial expressions. I don't look at just the lips when I am listening; I watch the person's entire face. If a person is wearing sunglasses, particularly the kind that completely obscure the eyes from view, I find it extremely difficult to lip-read. The eyes are very significant in facial expressions and provide vital clues in helping me understand what is being said.

                The main thing to remember when communicating, is to be natural ― speak clearly and at a normal pace. There is no need to raise your voice. No matter how loud you get, I'm still not going to be able to hear you. Yelling at me does nothing but wear out your vocal cords and allow all those within hearing distance to listen in on our conversation. There is also no need to exaggerate or over-enunciate your words and in fact, it actually makes it harder to lip-read by distorting the shape and movement of the lips. Besides, it looks silly. If you're guilty of doing any of those things, you can be sure that I'm going to let you know. Sometimes I'll even copy you and speak back to you the same way, just because I find it funny. But don't be too embarrassed, you're not the only one who does that. Even my own son has been known to do it. In fact, most of the time, he speaks to me without his voice which tends to distort words in the same way over-enunciation does. When I tell him to knock it off, his response is to say, "Why? You can't hear my voice anyhow, so what's the point?" Oy!

                “What are you, deaf?" moments aren't restricted to only communication gaffes. It is not always readily apparent that I am deaf and I do not always announce it to every one I meet, so there will be times when I'm blocking someone's way in a store and they politely say, "Excuse me" to my back, not knowing I can't hear them. I always wonder if they figure out that I didn't hear them or if they forever think I'm the rudest person they've encountered. I remember once when I was in a liquor store purchasing a carafe of wine for my mother and the guy behind the counter had his back to me. I, of course, had no clue he was talking and when he finally turned around, he was extremely annoyed with me. I had failed to answer any of his questions and when he retorted, "What are you, deaf?" I very sweetly smiled and responded, "Why, yes I am." He turned a very interesting shade of red. I laughed all the way home.

                If the deaf person doesn't lip-read, and you don't know sign language, then there are other ways to communicate. A pen and a piece of paper can be an effective tool. Even I've been known to resort to writing when lip-reading fails me. Body language is another. Nearly everyone makes some sort of gestures while communicating, most of which are unconscious. Use them! Act it out! Sure, it can be embarrassing, but who cares if it gets the message across? If all else fails, hire an interpreter.

 

 

                "How do I use an interpreter?"

 

 

                Interpreters, particularly educational interpreters, are a godsend. They make communication so much simpler. After having spent most of my education missing out on things in the classroom because I simply found it impossible to keep up with every little thing, I've completely embraced the idea of interpreters. I always sat in the front row at school so that I could be close enough to read the teachers' lips. However, that meant I missed out on whatever my classmates behind me were saying. By the time I turned around in my seat and located the speaker, he/she had ceased talking and some one else had begun. I always felt like I was watching a tennis match where the ball was invisible. Interpreters solved that issue by giving me only one person to focus on. Their hands became each and every voice in the room, bridging that gap I felt was there during my early years.  

             
                The main role of an interpreter is to interpret. Nothing more, nothing less. They are there to translate the spoken word into sign for the deaf person and to translate the signs into speech for the hearing people. For the most part, all you really need to remember when using interpreters is to always look at the deaf person and address them as you would any one else. There is no need to talk to the interpreter and say things like, "tell her ..." or "ask him ..."  Not only is it rude, but it stifles the conversation unnecessarily.

                If you are a teacher with a deaf student in your classroom, my advice to you is to treat the interpreter as if she were invisible. Your only concern should be your student. It is imperative that you remember that the interpreter is not an aide. You should never ask her to watch your class while you step out of the room or have her help out with menial tasks such as passing out papers. Furthermore, don't expect the interpreter to help the student with his work. If the student has questions or needs help, it is the teacher's responsibility to meet the student's needs. Above all, treat the student like any other child.
                               

                "What is ASL?"

 

 

                ASL stands for American Sign Language. It is the third most used language in the United States. Just as any other spoken language, it is rich in content, idioms, slang, and abstract thoughts. It has its own rules of grammar and syntax. While there is an International Sign Language, signing is not universal and most countries have their own form of sign language. On occasion, many of the signs will be the same no matter what the language, but just because I know ASL doesn't mean I'll be able to carry on a conversation with someone from France. Even within a country, sign language varies from region to region. Just as people from Texas pronounce words differently than people from Connecticut, signers from North Carolina will sign things differently than signers from California. Just call it our version of an accent.

                One of the most common misperception is that it is rude to walk between two people conversing in sign language. While, yes it would be nice for you to find another way around, it really isn't necessary. What deaf people and hearing people find rude are completely different. You might think it is rude to interrupt the conversation, however brief it may be, it is actually far more rude to stand there waiting for a lull in the conversation where you can dash through. It is very distracting to have someone standing there waiting and feel forced to stop chatting just so you can walk by. If you just go on through, you probably wouldn't even be noticed at all and the conversation would continue without missing a beat. If it makes you feel better, say, "Excuse me," as you breeze through, but even that isn't necessary because chances are, they're not even listening to you.   

     
                If you are learning sign language and you see people signing, depending on the location and the setting, feel free to introduce yourself. Don't be shy. Just make sure that you're not interrupting something private. It is always good practice and most deaf people love to see their language being learned. There are of course, the few who get annoyed by yet another hearing person showing off, but they're the rude exceptions. Ignore them and try again with some one else. If you make mistakes in signing, don't worry about it. More often than not you'll be corrected. There are a mischievous few who will allow you to keeping making the same mistake over and over again. Don't mind us; we're just having a little fun. Laughter is good for the soul and a wonderful learning tool. I have a friend who tried to sign "I want some shrimp," and instead signed, “I want some sperm." To this day, I still see her pause and check herself before she tries to say the word shrimp. She'll definitely never make that mistake again!

               
                "Why do you have a dog?"

 

 

                My dog, Ed, a huge Labrador retriever inevitably attracts attention wherever I go. It isn't because he's a beautiful and sweet dog, though he is that, it’s because he comes with me to places that normally don't allow dogs. I'll be honest and say I love the attention. I love it when people come up to me and ask about my dog. I'd much rather be interrupted and questioned than continually stared at and whispered about. I usually know what you're saying anyhow, since I can lip-read at a distance, so why not just come up and say it to my face? At least then you'd have answers instead of just questions and speculation.

                Ed came to me because I didn't like having to depend on hearing people to inform me when the phone was ringing, when someone was at the door, to wake me up or any of the other multitudes of things that requires one to hear. It was and still is very important to me that I be as independent as possible. I'm not above asking for help when I need it, particularly when I need to make a phone call. I do have a TTY, a phone for the deaf that resembles a small word processor, and can make my own phone calls. But I find them tedious and avoid phones as much as possible.  Other everyday things such as waking up in the morning at a specific time, I'd rather not have to bother anyone else.

                The first thing I tried was hooking up a lamp to a special alarm clock that had an outlet in the back for the lamp. When the alarm went off, the lamp would flash, waking me up. That lasted only a few months before I became so accustomed to
the light that it no longer woke me up and I would sleep through the alarm. So, then I tried a vibrating attachment.Instead of plugging the lamp into the clock, I plugged in the flat vibrator which then went under my mattress. The alarm would ring and my bed would shake me awake. The first time I used that, it scared me so much that I fell off the bed. I never did get used to that feeling, but for the longest time, it was all I had.

                Then, I got Ed. Ed is a certified hearing dog, also called a signal dog. Simply put, he is trained to alert me to sounds. I must say that waking up with Ed is much more pleasant than the evil earthshaking vibrator. When my alarm clock goes off in the morning, Ed paws my bed until I get up and shut it off. Like any other person, sometimes I'll hit the snooze button and of course when it goes off again fifteen minutes later, Ed is back, doing his job. He is trained for many other sounds, such as the doorbell and the phone. The process of alerting me varies only slightly from waking me up. Instead of pawing the bed, Ed will paw my knee, getting my attention. When he does this, I ask him, "What?" and he leads me to the source of the sound, lying down at the designated spot. If it was the door, then he would lay by the door or if it was the telephone, he would lay by my computer desk where I keep my TTY. I found Ed a far better alternative to the flashing light and the shaking bed and the fact that he is a wonderful companion and great to snuggle with, is a delightful bonus.

                Certified hearing dogs such as Ed are entitled to all the same rights as any other service dog. I am allowed to bring him with me everywhere I go. There are times when I am stopped by the people of the establishment and I'm forced to explain that he's a service dog and by law, they have to allow him in. More often than not, they let me by but there will be a few times where I will have to really stand up and fight for my rights. While I do not require his services out in public as much as I do in the home, he does continue to work. For example, if I drop something, he will alert me to that fact. It is impossible to count the number of times I've dropped my keys and since I'm unable to hear the sound of them falling onto the ground, I've usually had to spend a lot of time retracing my steps until I find them. In addition, Ed comes to school with me and does a wonderful job in the classroom, alerting me not only to the bells and fire alarm but also to the sneaky students who think they can talk and fool around when my back is turned. The reactions on my students’ faces when I catch them are priceless and they quickly learn that having a deaf teacher doesn’t mean they can get away with misbehaving.

                Since my deafness is not readily visible, my reason for having Ed isn't always apparent. Most people have never heard of a hearing dog and they usually assume that I'm training him to be a service dog for people in wheelchairs. My favorite assumption goes to the woman who thought I was blind. One day, not too long after I had gotten him, I was out shopping and pulled into the parking lot at the mall. I got out of my car, and held the door open for my dog. A woman came up to, gushing with praise about Ed. "Oh my goodness! It's amazing what dogs can do these days," she said. "I never knew blind people could drive. That's just wonderful! Wonderful!" I was in such shock that I never got the chance to correct her. I hope she doesn't
still think Ed was helping me to drive. Blind people driving? Now that's a scary thought!

 

 

                Welcome to my world! I hope I've given you a bit of insight about deafness. There are tons more questions that I have been asked but to answer all of them would require me to write a book. Perhaps one day I will. But for now, I leave you with these thoughts: being deaf means that I don't have to suffer through loud fire alarms or noisy crowds, I can sign with my mouth full, carry on a conversation across a room, answer that I honestly didn't hear her when my mother calls me in to help her with the housework, and that if I swear in sign language, it's no big deal to be forced to wash my hands off with soap. Always remember, as I. King Jordan, President of Gallaudet University said, "Deaf people can do anything, except hear.” For those of you are still burning to know, yes, I know how to read and write and no, I don’t know Braille.

 

---

|home|