deafness
Why Everyone Should Learn Sign Language
Seriously.
I’ve thought this before, but it hit me again this morning. Every Tuesday this summer, I’ve been helping my dad work on their backyard. Today, we cut big landscape blocks in half. (BTW, 12-inch concrete saw with diamond blade? Awesome.) Being good little workers, we wore safety glasses and earplugs.
Have you ever tried to talk to someone while you’re both wearing earplugs? Better yet, while a power saw is running? How much easier would it be if my dad knew sign language?
And that’s not the only situation where it would be handy. Other times, my dad’s been down in the walkout from the basement while I’m above in the backyard, and the A/C is running nearby. Very hard to hear what he’s saying.
Then there’s my favorite: restaurants. I love going out with deaf friends and colleagues. Doesn’t matter how noisy it gets, conversation is still just as easy to follow. One time, there was a full mariachi band in the room, but we kept chatting away. No problem.
When I’m out with non-signers and the restaurant’s noisy/the acoustics are lousy? All I can think is, “If only!”
Oh, and if you make the acquaintance of a deaf person (who signs)? Bonus! Easy communication.
To my international friends, though, sorry. Your sign language isn’t my sign language, unless you’re in Canada (but not Quebec). Yes, different countries have different sign languages. (I know this is a shocker to some.)
Can you guys think of any situations where it’d be nice if everyone involved knew sign language?
Speak up:
8 commentsPrimer #2 on Deaf Can/Can’t
I previously posted on the idea that deaf kids don’t have great literacy skills. (Summary: Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t, same as hearing kids. They just add a few more variables to the mix.) Recently, some other ideas of what deaf people can and can’t do have come up in conversation.
Sidenote: Have I mentioned that if you’re calling them “hearing-impaired,” you’re wasting your breath? The only people I’ve met so far who prefer that over “deaf” have been folks who lost their hearing in old age.
First off, I’m a big believer in keeping the mindset that my students can do just about anything they want if they work hard enough. Once in a while, though, something comes up that makes me bite my lip, unsure what I should say.
I’ve had a couple of students who wanted to enter law enforcement—in the most recent case, preferably the FBI. Specifically, not a desk job—an out in the field, gun-toting Fed.
He hears relatively well with hearing aids, and speaks clear as day.
But …
I can’t help but think, what would it be like to be his partner in a dicey situation, where hearing the click of a gun’s safety going off can make the difference? Or in a chaotic, noisy environment where they’re not in each other’s line-of-sight, so communication isn’t clean and clear?
Or do I just watch too many TV shows like White Collar?
What do I tell a student in a situation like that? How do you combine being supportive and realistic?
This isn’t exclusive to deafness. Sometimes you come across a person who’s bound and determined to be a singer. They work hard for years, pay lots of money for lessons, but can still barely carry a tune. At what point do you lovingly say, “Look, hon, you have other talents. Put your energy into those and throw in the towel on this one. You can still sing along to the radio in the car.”
Or what about someone who longs to be a published novelist, but just doesn’t have the unteachable knack?
Of course, that gets into the argument of whether there are components of writing that can’t be taught … and that’s another post.
Speak up:
Comments Off on Primer #2 on Deaf Can/Can’tSpeaking Up
When you’re part of the majority, you don’t generally think about your culture until you find yourself in a situation where you’re surrounded by someone else’s. I imagine most of the people reading this listen to music and watch TV with the sound turned up—that is, we’re hearing.
Did you ever think of using that word to describe yourself? Maybe not, unless you happen to be a hearing person with connections to the Deaf world.
Yes, I capitalized it. That wasn’t a mistake.
There are a lot of differences between Deaf culture and the hearing majority, probably enough for another blog post or two sometime. A central feature is sign language. That doesn’t mean there aren’t people within the community who can and do speak. This can be a sticky issue, though—again, plenty I could ramble on about.
My point right now is that there are individuals who feel caught in the middle, who enjoy being part of the Deaf community, but also feel a connection to the hearing world. They listen to music and express themselves most comfortably in spoken English. This doesn’t always go over well with others.
Tomorrow, there’s a public “speaking” competition at school. Entrants have the choice of signing or speaking. This year, only a few students have entered … but they’ve all chosen to speak, and we’ll have an interpreter present. I’m interested to see the kinds of reactions they get. Will everyone focus on the content of the messages and whether they were effective in getting their points across? Will some complain that they should have signed, even though doing so would limit the eloquence of these particular students?
I’m proud of them for having the guts to get up in front of their peers and make a formal presentation—whether in speech or sign, it’s not easy. If anyone gives them a hard time, it might be my turn to speak up.
Speak up:
3 commentsPrimer #1 on Deaf Can/Can’t
Every so often, I’ll get a particular comment about Fingerprints on critique sites—something about Tasmin (the Deaf character) displaying unrealistic English skills.
These commentators mean well and undoubtedly speak from their personal experience, so I don’t mind. I see it as opportunity to spread a little knowledge.
When I was in grad school, we frequently discussed the hated statistic: Most deaf people read at a fourth grade level. Please note that the statistic on that website is actually that the median reading level among 17- and 18-year-olds in the sample was 4.0, so there’s one inaccuracy that creeps into the discussion. Generalizing that, half of the individuals in the sample read at or below that level … and half read at that level or above.
Another thing to note: The literacy statistics among the general U.S. population aren’t too great, either. Check here for some stats that those in medical fields should keep in mind. There are a lot of reasons for this, including school performance, education level of parents, and language access.
That last point—language access—is likely the biggest hurdle for deaf kids. The most accessible language is most likely not one that’s used in the home when the deaf kid comes along. An exception is when there is a Deaf parent (or two), which does happen, but overall isn’t that likely. Some hearing parents dive right into signing classes and/or take other steps, working their tails off to help their kids succeed.
Regardless, a huge number of variables are involved … enough to make generalizations pretty useless.
What I do know is that I’ve worked with deaf students on both ends of the spectrum. I’ve known deaf kids who read above grade level. I know several others in high school who read and write at or very close to their grade level. It happens, and if I see it at our tiny little school, it happens everywhere to one degree or another.
So do I stand by Tasmin’s skills? Absolutely, and not just because the character is meant to be unusually intelligent. I chose to focus on the “can” … and the only thing Tasmin can’t do is hear.
Speak up:
2 commentsSubconscious Metaphor
When I wrote Fingerprints, I had certain things in mind. Certain characters had vivid personalities from the beginning, and I knew the general story I wanted to tell. Some symbolism was consciously incorporated.
Then a colleague pointed out a a metaphor that I was not thinking about when I wrote it. Not consciously, anyway. Thinking about it, though, it had to be subconscious on some level, because it was so obvious.
Teks and Tuits. The hearing and the Deaf. Two worlds that some believe to be mutually exclusive.
It had to be subconscious, because I see the pull between those worlds every day. Hard-of-hearing kids, especially … so often stuck in a tug-of-war. Like listening to music and using spoken English? Too hearing. Can’t understand what people are saying at a noisy party? Too deaf.
Can’t they be both?
So maybe the story can be a metaphor for a lot of things, groups and labels that the all-knowing “THEY” decide can’t coincide.
And as I think Raina would say, “Screw that. Watch me blur the line.”