Sunday, April 29, 2007

An Evening I'll Never Forget

“You just cannot say you’ve really heard a song until you’ve seen it signed.”


Unless someone else has already coined that phrase, I’m going to claim it as my own because I was awed from start to finish recently at the Arkansas School for the Deaf. The students really put themselves out to offer an evening of entertainment for the community, have some fun, and reach out to a world that still may not be quite ready to be reached. I offer this perspective because I actually identified within myself some preconceived notions that are difficult to escape but are also not insurmountable with a little help and a lot of exposure to a world that was at one time completely foreign to me.

I believe it was Tom Spradley who wrote in his book, Deaf like Me, of how embarrassing it could sometimes be when his deaf daughter, Lynn, tried to express herself in public and made a noise like that of “a wounded animal”. Tom was coming to realize that any deaf child with limited, or no, hearing capacity could only mimic sounds heard. For a deaf child who can hear nothing, they are not even always aware that they make any noise at all.

The ever-charming Amelia Hensley, the ASD junior class president, gave us her deaf culture speech and reminded us that even with limitations, deaf persons are just like everyone else and are quite capable of learning, loving, communicating, and having fun. Later while performing in a skit, Amelia let out a sound that immediately made me think of Tom’s description of Lynn, that of a wounded animal.

My initial reaction was one of pity that such a beautiful young woman could emit such an unnatural sound. It reminded me of an incident which occurred many years ago when some friends and I witnessed the very same thing in a restaurant and pitied the child who was, we were quite sure, mentally handicapped.

In both cases, it was not true. The child we saw in the crowded restaurant was trying to get his mother’s attention. Amelia was simply reacting to the excitement of the moment, and let out what would have been under other circumstances an excited squeal. I immediately came to the realization that it is I who should be pitied for my narrowness of mind and social ignorance, two “handicaps” Amelia and I obviously do not share. In fact it was I who came to the realization on this evening that if there were handicapped persons present, it was we who lack the skills to communicate within this community.

I deliberately separated myself from the rest of my ASL I class because I had been hanging on to my own comfort zone for far too long. I felt hopelessly lost while surrounded by moms and dads who were communicating with friends on the opposite ends of the rows without uttering a single word. There was a lovely lady seated right in front of me who was signing to another lady a few seats away and it occurred to me that if this conversation had been taking place in a theatre filled with hearing persons, she would have had to have gotten up from her seat and moved closer to the other lady so that she could be heard. Even then, I doubt that the emotions which were being very clearly expressed visually would have been any more effective if spoken. Under the circumstances of what would have been deafening noise in a crowded theatre, it is highly unlikely. What I witnessed were two ladies having a very pleasant conversation. I also found myself trying to catch the signs until I realized that it would have constituted eavesdropping! So many new rules, so many new “sounds”!

What turned out to be the most ironic part of the evening was when Mrs. Northup, one of the MC’s, introduced all the ASL student visitors and asked us to stand and be recognized. I happened to have been seated next to Tyna Roy, an adorable child who signed for us the poem, “Sick”. Once I took my seat, I could see Tyna from the corner of my eye starring at me just as I may have at one time found myself starring at a deaf person. Was she looking for something? Was she waiting for me to do something stupid? I couldn’t say for sure, but I knew I wanted to crawl in a hole and die! Why did I not just say hello and compliment her on her performance? These are signs I know, and I could have done these easily. The potential problem was that she might have tried to engage me in conversation and even though the conservation would have been coming from a 10-year-old, I am quite certain it would have been over my head!

Although the kids were great, I was bowled over by Mr. and Mrs. Northup singing (and signing), “You needed me”, together. It was then when I coined my phrase because even though that happens to be one of my favorite songs, I could never have fully appreciated it until I had “seen it signed”. There was emotion and poetry in the hand movements and the interaction between the two and in addition to being sung by two persons who obviously love and respect one another, it was most appropriate in understanding the relationship which exists between those who can hear with their ears but don’t always comprehend and those who hear with their eyes and understand all too well.

What the future holds for me with the deaf community only the Lord can say. I only know that learning ASL is not like learning another foreign language. I have no plans to travel to another country anytime soon, but I will live in the United States where a sizeable portion of the population is deaf. They cannot be taught to hear because they lack the physical capability to do so. After this evening’s visit to the Arkansas School for the Deaf, I have found that with just a little effort and willingness on my part there is whole new world for me to discover and a host of bright young people who are more than willing to help me along the way.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Later while performing in a skit, Amelia let out a sound that immediately made me think of Tom’s description of Lynn, that of a wounded animal. My initial reaction was one of pity that such a beautiful young woman could emit such an unnatural sound. It reminded me of an incident which occurred many years ago when some friends and I witnessed the very same thing in a restaurant and pitied the child who was, we were quite sure, mentally handicapped.

.... wow. always fascinating to see how hearing people describe the way we sound.

my friend (whos coda) thinks deaf people's voices actually sound the most natural because they haven't been affected by spoken language's restrictions and rules. it's just.. hmm, vocalizing.. "as is."

actually most deaf people are pretty sensitive about our voice and choosing whether to use it is a very personal decision. we know we sound weird. we're taught by parents/teachers to even modulate our laughter because hearing people evidently laugh in a way that sounds socially acceptable.

your post definitely struck a nerve with me... i've felt self-conscious about my "deaf voice" my whole life, and i really wish i didn't. my dad is japanese.. he really cares about apperances, what other people think and avoiding embarrassing situations. last week we got in a huge argument because he was obviously very uncomfortable with me even signing to him in public (we were in tokyo) and people were "not-staring staring." i think most if not all hearing parents of deaf kids struggle with feeling inwardly uncomfortable/ashamed/pained when hearing their kids talk... some get over it eventually, some don't, and their kids pick up on that.

it's such a relief when we're in the company of only other deaf people, seriously. just let it all out, no need to be self-conscious at all.

Anonymous said...

Hello, this is Amelia Hensley. I enjoyed to read your blogs about that. I wish we have a chance to meet and have a talk about that. :)