Sometimes I think it must be difficult for my friends and family to adapt to my deafness. Most are happy to adapt and do so without complaint. However, a few sometimes let it be known that it's quite a hassle. It does sometimes leave me feeling as if I'm purposefully putting people out by having a disability. Shame on me. It is difficult sometimes to not feel like a burden.
However, I'm aware that it is difficult to change and to adapt. Most of my friends at university have only ever known me as deaf, so for them it's not too difficult. However, for those that have known me for a long time, it can be very difficult to adjust. For most of my relationship with them, I have been hearing. It is then difficult to change a lifetime of behaviour and adjust to new behaviours.
I'm aware it's difficult. I know it's difficult - it's difficult for me as well. I do have to admit though, that it does sometimes hurt. For instance, if I say I'm taking my hearing aids out and won't be able to hear you (unless you're facing me and I can lip read), talking to my back is not only useless but also slightly hurtful. It makes me think 'do I mean so little to you that you don't take in what I tell you about my disability?' It's common for people to forget, I understand that. But it can hurt - it can feel like you haven't even crossed their mind.
Luckily, this doesn't happen too often.
Something which does occur quite often, however, is people talking about me to my family - when I'm sitting right there!
To my Dad: 'Oh, so she's deaf?'
Me: 'Yes'
A quick glance at me, turning back to my Dad: 'But she can hear sometimes?'
Me: 'Yes'
Ignoring me, asking Dad again: 'So how does that work?'
Me: 'Without my hearing aids I can't hear. With them, I can mostly hear okay.'
Looking at me thoughtfully, then turning back to Dad: 'So do you sign to her to communicate?'
Uhm... Hello? I thought I was meant to be the deaf one, not you. What, have I suddenly become invisible? I'm sitting right here! I'm deaf, not dumb. IQ points aren't linked to hearing - just because I'm losing my hearing, doesn't mean my IQ is rapidly falling. You can have an intelligent conversation with me you know. I know, it's shocking - people with disabilities can be intelligent. Shock, horror!
Deaf Girl
Wednesday, 10 August 2011
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
A nerd
The brain anatomy course I was on now seems like a very distant memory. I had a such a great time and would love to go again next year.
At times I did feel like the nerdiest of nerds. Especially when I could answer a question that even PJ (who's a neuro-pathologist) didn't know. That definitely made me feel a) smart [something which doesn't happen very often - what with most of my friends being mathematicians, chemists, engineers, physicists and biologist] and b) a nerd. A very big nerd.
Sadly, it was only a handful of times that I felt this way - most of the time I was learning completely new things. I loved it! I never thought I would love learning as much as I did on that course. Yep, I'm aware - I'm a nerd.
However, it wasn't great all the time. There were times that left me feeling horrible, like a dead weight. For the practical sessions (where we examined real brains) we were split up into groups of five. All 120 of us were in one room. The background noise in this room was deafening - literally. I could not hear a thing, let alone any words that anyone in my group were saying. So when they asked me where I thought the thalamus or Broca's area was in the brain, I had no idea what they were saying. I was trying to lip read, but so many of the terms have very similar names that I wasn't able to tell them apart. The looks I was getting from them - I just wanted the ground to swallow me up. They clearly thought my IQ matched that of an ant. I did explain to them - again and again - that I was deaf and that I was trying to lip-read. They didn't seem convinced - even when I showed them my hearing aids. They continued to talk to each other - deliberately, it seemed - facing away from me.
I then stopped trying. I figured; if they weren't bothered about me, then I wasn't bothered about them. I stayed behind after that session and went through everything myself - that way I hadn't missed out on anything. That was the first time that I felt left out in a vindictive way, purely because I am deaf. I didn't let it stop me from enjoying the rest of my course though.
In one of the sessions we were also shown the cochlear nerve - I asked about the exact location an implant would go. One of the demonstrators showed me and then said 'the benefits probably wouldn't be very good - but I suppose some hearing is better than no hearing.' I replied that he shouldn't say that in the deaf community. He seemed surprised (as a lot of hearing people do) that people don't actually see anything wrong or bad about being deaf, and that given the choice they would rather remain deaf.
It all came to an end too fast, and I soon found myself waiting for my train at the train station. It was extremely busy, and I had a few hours to kill. I did something I probably shouldn't have done - I found myself a seat and started to people watch and lip-read their conversations. There was a young couple that were trying to work up the nerve to go to the toilet together for some 'fun time'. There were two sisters having an arguement about which celebrity was hotter (I kid you not). There was a man in an army uniform saying goodbye to his girlfriend, promising her that he would be back soon. It was then that I realised that I was eavesdropping and shouldn't be doing that. I quickly stopped and stood in front of the announcement board waiting to see what platform my train would be on.
Suddenly, about 50 people all started moving towards the trains. I was confused - what had just happened? Nothing on the boards had changed. Were these people receiving instructions that no one else could hear? Were we being invaded? (I told you I was a nerd). I quickly asked someone standing next to me what was going on. He looked at me as if I had just sprouted horns on my head and said 'the conductor just shouted that the train heading to *destination I am heading* is at platform 3.'
I sighed with relief, realising that there was no imminent alien attack happening in the train station. The man standing next to me quickly moved away, obviously fearing this stranger that had asked him a question and then smiled like a lunatic.
I left wishing they had changed the board and hadn't relied on a conductor shouting. What if I wasn't the only deaf person there? People could easily miss their trains. Luckily, all was well and I arrived home a few hours later. It was a great few days, but I am glad to be home and sleeping in my own bed!
Deaf Girl
At times I did feel like the nerdiest of nerds. Especially when I could answer a question that even PJ (who's a neuro-pathologist) didn't know. That definitely made me feel a) smart [something which doesn't happen very often - what with most of my friends being mathematicians, chemists, engineers, physicists and biologist] and b) a nerd. A very big nerd.
Sadly, it was only a handful of times that I felt this way - most of the time I was learning completely new things. I loved it! I never thought I would love learning as much as I did on that course. Yep, I'm aware - I'm a nerd.
However, it wasn't great all the time. There were times that left me feeling horrible, like a dead weight. For the practical sessions (where we examined real brains) we were split up into groups of five. All 120 of us were in one room. The background noise in this room was deafening - literally. I could not hear a thing, let alone any words that anyone in my group were saying. So when they asked me where I thought the thalamus or Broca's area was in the brain, I had no idea what they were saying. I was trying to lip read, but so many of the terms have very similar names that I wasn't able to tell them apart. The looks I was getting from them - I just wanted the ground to swallow me up. They clearly thought my IQ matched that of an ant. I did explain to them - again and again - that I was deaf and that I was trying to lip-read. They didn't seem convinced - even when I showed them my hearing aids. They continued to talk to each other - deliberately, it seemed - facing away from me.
I then stopped trying. I figured; if they weren't bothered about me, then I wasn't bothered about them. I stayed behind after that session and went through everything myself - that way I hadn't missed out on anything. That was the first time that I felt left out in a vindictive way, purely because I am deaf. I didn't let it stop me from enjoying the rest of my course though.
In one of the sessions we were also shown the cochlear nerve - I asked about the exact location an implant would go. One of the demonstrators showed me and then said 'the benefits probably wouldn't be very good - but I suppose some hearing is better than no hearing.' I replied that he shouldn't say that in the deaf community. He seemed surprised (as a lot of hearing people do) that people don't actually see anything wrong or bad about being deaf, and that given the choice they would rather remain deaf.
It all came to an end too fast, and I soon found myself waiting for my train at the train station. It was extremely busy, and I had a few hours to kill. I did something I probably shouldn't have done - I found myself a seat and started to people watch and lip-read their conversations. There was a young couple that were trying to work up the nerve to go to the toilet together for some 'fun time'. There were two sisters having an arguement about which celebrity was hotter (I kid you not). There was a man in an army uniform saying goodbye to his girlfriend, promising her that he would be back soon. It was then that I realised that I was eavesdropping and shouldn't be doing that. I quickly stopped and stood in front of the announcement board waiting to see what platform my train would be on.
Suddenly, about 50 people all started moving towards the trains. I was confused - what had just happened? Nothing on the boards had changed. Were these people receiving instructions that no one else could hear? Were we being invaded? (I told you I was a nerd). I quickly asked someone standing next to me what was going on. He looked at me as if I had just sprouted horns on my head and said 'the conductor just shouted that the train heading to *destination I am heading* is at platform 3.'
I sighed with relief, realising that there was no imminent alien attack happening in the train station. The man standing next to me quickly moved away, obviously fearing this stranger that had asked him a question and then smiled like a lunatic.
I left wishing they had changed the board and hadn't relied on a conductor shouting. What if I wasn't the only deaf person there? People could easily miss their trains. Luckily, all was well and I arrived home a few hours later. It was a great few days, but I am glad to be home and sleeping in my own bed!
Deaf Girl
Monday, 18 July 2011
"Eat in or out?" "Get it out where?"
I'm currently on a 3 day brain anatomy course. I love it. It's not been without it's incidents though...
Let's ignore my clumsiness (last night whilst out for dinner with a friend I managed to knock a bottle of vinegar off a table bringing it crashing to the floor and exploding everywhere and today I managed to drop my cup of coffee on the floor, great start to the day!). I'm the type of person that will trip over a matchstick - it's incredible how clumsy I am.
Let's ignore that part though. So I'm sitting in the reception of this course, in a room filled with 100 strangers. Slightly daunting, but not too bad; after all, we're all here for the same reason - to learn about the brain. I get chatting to a woman next to me who seems nice. She asks me if I want to go out for a smoke. I politely decline, saying I've given up smoking (46 days now!). She asks me again.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, thanks. I don't smoke anymore."
"It's been so long now - if you have one now that first inhalation will be amazing."
"I know, it's okay though, it's healthier not smoking."
"Are you sure? You can always stand next to me and I'll breath the smoke on you."
Wow what an amazing offer. Who wouldn't jump at the chance to be breathed on by a complete stranger? Geez, what is up with this woman? I hope I was never so obnoxious or pushy when I was a smoker. Anyway, I thought it was HoH/deaf people that kept repeating themselves, not some random hearing Yorkshire woman. She eventually gave up and went outside to smoke, alone.
Then I started chatting with another woman. This one was actually sane and didn't want to exhale all over me. We chatted and sat next to each other in the lecture theatre, both giving our full attention to the lecturer. (As a side note - this lecture was completely different to a university lecture, in that no one was whispering to each other, we were all here for the same reason and 100% focused on what he was saying).
Unfortunately by the time we had registered and entered the lecture hall, it was almost full so we had to sit right at the back. This meant I had to really focus and strain to hear him. This was made even more difficult by a man sitting two rows in front of me - he seemed to have extremely sensitive hearing and complained that the microphone was too loud.
The lecturer (I'll call him PJ from now on) said he would turn the microphone down. My heart sank - there was no way I would be able to hear him if he turned it down, it was a struggle as it was. Luckily, a couple of other people shouted out 'no' as well. I felt for the poor guy - he had super sensitive hearing but was in a room with a deaf girl.
So we're all sitting there, paying attention. I'm literally on the edge of my seat; I'm that enthralled by what he's saying (yes, I realise that makes me a nerd - I don't care, I was in my element). Suddenly;
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPP
I almost jump a foot in the air off my seat. I actually grabbed the table in front of me. What the hell is that noise?!
For about two minutes there's a horrible, loud continuous screeching sound. The poor guy with sensitive hearing was almost doubled over in pain. My hearing aids were screaming in my ear and giving me feedback on top of the screeching sound, so I quickly turned them off. Even with them switched off I could still hear a faint sound - which will tell you how loud it was!
Then just as suddenly as it started; it stopped. We never did find out what it was. We all looked at each other in confusion, then continued with the lecture.
At lunch time Em (the sane woman) and I go for lunch at a little cafe around the corner. That was interesting. I go up to the woman and ask her for a baguette. She's absolutely tiny and has some sort of accent. Why does her height matter? Because her mouth was bellow the counter so I couldn't lipread. Her accent also made it more difficult to hear her.
From what Em later told me, the conversation went something like this:
"Would you like that toasted?"
"A white baguette please."
"Toasted or cold?"
"A few days old? What do you mean?"
"TOASTED or COLD?"
"Oh, cold please. Can I have an ice tea as well?"
"Eat in or out?"
"I have to get it out? Where?"
"No, eat inside or away?"
"Yes I'm staying in London."
"EAT IN OR OUT?"
"Oh, in please."
This went on for a little while. I was getting more flustered by the minute. I could feel myself turning a beautiful shade of red (I'm pretty sure I was as red as the tomato in my baguette). The queue behind me was getting longer and longer and people were either snickering in amusement or angrily checking their watches. I was mortified.
Eventually I managed to get my baguette and drink, and sat down with Em. She asked me if it was easier for me if she faced me. I said yes, then I could read her lips. She asked if I would mind if she asked me some questions on what it's like being deaf and the cause of my deafness. I told her I was more than happy to talk about it - I prefer that people ask me questions instead of assuming things. I think she was dissapointed that my deafness is caused by nerve damage as opposed to brain damage (remember, we're on a brain anatomy course - so to have a live example of some sort of brain damage would have been fascinating). And before any of you say it - yes, I'm quite sure I'm not brain damaged!
After lunch we managed to get some seats quite close to the front, which made hearing him much easier and meant I could also read his lips some of the time. Luckily, there were no more incidents of any kind in the afternoon - the rest of the day ran smoothly.
Before I knew it, the day was over. It has really flown by. I'm very much looking forward to tomorrow. I'm also going to look for a different cafe - one where either the till is lower or the server is taller!
Deaf Girl
Let's ignore my clumsiness (last night whilst out for dinner with a friend I managed to knock a bottle of vinegar off a table bringing it crashing to the floor and exploding everywhere and today I managed to drop my cup of coffee on the floor, great start to the day!). I'm the type of person that will trip over a matchstick - it's incredible how clumsy I am.
Let's ignore that part though. So I'm sitting in the reception of this course, in a room filled with 100 strangers. Slightly daunting, but not too bad; after all, we're all here for the same reason - to learn about the brain. I get chatting to a woman next to me who seems nice. She asks me if I want to go out for a smoke. I politely decline, saying I've given up smoking (46 days now!). She asks me again.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, thanks. I don't smoke anymore."
"It's been so long now - if you have one now that first inhalation will be amazing."
"I know, it's okay though, it's healthier not smoking."
"Are you sure? You can always stand next to me and I'll breath the smoke on you."
Wow what an amazing offer. Who wouldn't jump at the chance to be breathed on by a complete stranger? Geez, what is up with this woman? I hope I was never so obnoxious or pushy when I was a smoker. Anyway, I thought it was HoH/deaf people that kept repeating themselves, not some random hearing Yorkshire woman. She eventually gave up and went outside to smoke, alone.
Then I started chatting with another woman. This one was actually sane and didn't want to exhale all over me. We chatted and sat next to each other in the lecture theatre, both giving our full attention to the lecturer. (As a side note - this lecture was completely different to a university lecture, in that no one was whispering to each other, we were all here for the same reason and 100% focused on what he was saying).
Unfortunately by the time we had registered and entered the lecture hall, it was almost full so we had to sit right at the back. This meant I had to really focus and strain to hear him. This was made even more difficult by a man sitting two rows in front of me - he seemed to have extremely sensitive hearing and complained that the microphone was too loud.
The lecturer (I'll call him PJ from now on) said he would turn the microphone down. My heart sank - there was no way I would be able to hear him if he turned it down, it was a struggle as it was. Luckily, a couple of other people shouted out 'no' as well. I felt for the poor guy - he had super sensitive hearing but was in a room with a deaf girl.
So we're all sitting there, paying attention. I'm literally on the edge of my seat; I'm that enthralled by what he's saying (yes, I realise that makes me a nerd - I don't care, I was in my element). Suddenly;
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPP
I almost jump a foot in the air off my seat. I actually grabbed the table in front of me. What the hell is that noise?!
For about two minutes there's a horrible, loud continuous screeching sound. The poor guy with sensitive hearing was almost doubled over in pain. My hearing aids were screaming in my ear and giving me feedback on top of the screeching sound, so I quickly turned them off. Even with them switched off I could still hear a faint sound - which will tell you how loud it was!
Then just as suddenly as it started; it stopped. We never did find out what it was. We all looked at each other in confusion, then continued with the lecture.
At lunch time Em (the sane woman) and I go for lunch at a little cafe around the corner. That was interesting. I go up to the woman and ask her for a baguette. She's absolutely tiny and has some sort of accent. Why does her height matter? Because her mouth was bellow the counter so I couldn't lipread. Her accent also made it more difficult to hear her.
From what Em later told me, the conversation went something like this:
"Would you like that toasted?"
"A white baguette please."
"Toasted or cold?"
"A few days old? What do you mean?"
"TOASTED or COLD?"
"Oh, cold please. Can I have an ice tea as well?"
"Eat in or out?"
"I have to get it out? Where?"
"No, eat inside or away?"
"Yes I'm staying in London."
"EAT IN OR OUT?"
"Oh, in please."
This went on for a little while. I was getting more flustered by the minute. I could feel myself turning a beautiful shade of red (I'm pretty sure I was as red as the tomato in my baguette). The queue behind me was getting longer and longer and people were either snickering in amusement or angrily checking their watches. I was mortified.
Eventually I managed to get my baguette and drink, and sat down with Em. She asked me if it was easier for me if she faced me. I said yes, then I could read her lips. She asked if I would mind if she asked me some questions on what it's like being deaf and the cause of my deafness. I told her I was more than happy to talk about it - I prefer that people ask me questions instead of assuming things. I think she was dissapointed that my deafness is caused by nerve damage as opposed to brain damage (remember, we're on a brain anatomy course - so to have a live example of some sort of brain damage would have been fascinating). And before any of you say it - yes, I'm quite sure I'm not brain damaged!
After lunch we managed to get some seats quite close to the front, which made hearing him much easier and meant I could also read his lips some of the time. Luckily, there were no more incidents of any kind in the afternoon - the rest of the day ran smoothly.
Before I knew it, the day was over. It has really flown by. I'm very much looking forward to tomorrow. I'm also going to look for a different cafe - one where either the till is lower or the server is taller!
Deaf Girl
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
I want your blood
I'm currently waiting to watch TV, but my Dad is on the phone. Why is this stopping me from watching TV? He's decided to sit in the lounge to talk on the phone... out of the entire house, he chooses the lounge. The lounge being the only place where my bluetooth necklace works with the TV, hence the only place I can watch TV. I'm rolling my eyes and smiling as I type this. Typical Dad!
Anyway. I woke up this morning covered in mosquito bites. One must have bitten me and gone and told all its friends to join in as well. Luckily they're not itchy. If my Mum gets bitten, the bites turn into the size of a golf ball and apparently itch like crazy. My Dad just never gets bitten, or if he does it's only one bite and he has no reaction to it. I seem to have inherited Mum's frequency of being bitten, and Dad's lack of reaction to them. So all in all, not bad.
Since I've started to lose my hearing, I'm being bitten a lot more.
A hearing person would lie in bed and start to fall asleep. Then an annoying high-pitched buzzing sound would, annoyingly, wake them up. Maybe they would hunt around the room with a fly-squatter, or try and kill the mosquito with their hands or spray some bug spray. Either way, they would - hopefully - have gotten rid of the little nuisance.
Of course, I no longer hear any buzzing. Sure, I do when I'm wearing my hearing aids outside - hearing aids also seem to attract flies to land on the damn things! But when I'm in bed, I take my hearing aids out, meaning I hardly hear at all. Which means I don't notice mosquitos. The mosquitos must think it's their lucky day - finally, a source of food that doesn't chase them around the room trying to kill them.
Hmmm, I'm not sure I like being a free-for-all blood bank!
Deaf Girl
Anyway. I woke up this morning covered in mosquito bites. One must have bitten me and gone and told all its friends to join in as well. Luckily they're not itchy. If my Mum gets bitten, the bites turn into the size of a golf ball and apparently itch like crazy. My Dad just never gets bitten, or if he does it's only one bite and he has no reaction to it. I seem to have inherited Mum's frequency of being bitten, and Dad's lack of reaction to them. So all in all, not bad.
Since I've started to lose my hearing, I'm being bitten a lot more.
A hearing person would lie in bed and start to fall asleep. Then an annoying high-pitched buzzing sound would, annoyingly, wake them up. Maybe they would hunt around the room with a fly-squatter, or try and kill the mosquito with their hands or spray some bug spray. Either way, they would - hopefully - have gotten rid of the little nuisance.
Of course, I no longer hear any buzzing. Sure, I do when I'm wearing my hearing aids outside - hearing aids also seem to attract flies to land on the damn things! But when I'm in bed, I take my hearing aids out, meaning I hardly hear at all. Which means I don't notice mosquitos. The mosquitos must think it's their lucky day - finally, a source of food that doesn't chase them around the room trying to kill them.
Hmmm, I'm not sure I like being a free-for-all blood bank!
Deaf Girl
Friday, 1 July 2011
Sign language is not mime
Just a quick entry.
I am appalled by what is happening in Italy. The government is refusing to acknowledge that LIS (Italian Sign Language) is a real language. Instead the government is wanting to classify it as a subgenre of mime.
This is extremely insulting to the deaf community. It completely undermines a very complex language and undermines the community at large. It insults the history of sign language, and ignores the hardships that deaf people have had to go through. In most countries, at one point or another, signing was illegal. Deaf people have had to fight to be given fundamental rights and be taken seriously. If LIS isn't recognised as a language, it will have serious social, educational and political implications that will be damaging to the deaf community.
As Alison Bryan (a UK blogger) said; "Deaf people still need to fight to be listened to, without interference from those people who think they know what is best for them".
I am appalled by what is happening in Italy. The government is refusing to acknowledge that LIS (Italian Sign Language) is a real language. Instead the government is wanting to classify it as a subgenre of mime.
This is extremely insulting to the deaf community. It completely undermines a very complex language and undermines the community at large. It insults the history of sign language, and ignores the hardships that deaf people have had to go through. In most countries, at one point or another, signing was illegal. Deaf people have had to fight to be given fundamental rights and be taken seriously. If LIS isn't recognised as a language, it will have serious social, educational and political implications that will be damaging to the deaf community.
As Alison Bryan (a UK blogger) said; "Deaf people still need to fight to be listened to, without interference from those people who think they know what is best for them".
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
Sign of the times
I had a friend from highschool stay over for the last few days of university. I'll call her Peanut. It was great seeing her - hadn't seen her in over a year. And in that year she's started to learn BSL. Which I think is fantastic! I always get really excited and pleased when a hearing person learns BSL.
The day that Peanut arrived, my college at university was having a small music festival. Nothing big or fancy, just a chance for student bands to be heard. It gives everyone an excuse to just relax and have a drink (then again, we're students - no excuse is needed!). It was a lot of fun - I love listening to live music. The only problem is that I can't hear anything except the music. A spoken conversation is out of the question - my lip-reading isn't quite good enough to hold a long conversation.
On the other hand, I can hold a reasonably decent BSL conversation. Nothing deep or meaningful, but a decent conversation none-the-less. Usually there's just no one else around that can have a conversation in BSL. In comes Peanut. It didn't matter that I couldn't hear a word she was saying and that I wasn't focusing on lip-reading, we were signing away to each other. I could enjoy the music and have a conversation - it was fantastic!
At one point, the band that was playing took a little break between songs. It was at this time that all the conversation in the hall fell silent. Peanut and I were still signing away to each other. So the entire hall was silent. Until... 'Summer of 69' came blasting out. For a split second I wondered where on earth the music was coming from, as did everyone else in the room. Then I realised. It was my phone. With reddening cheeks, I fumbled in my bag to silence it (I was cursing the fact that I wasn't wearing my bluetooth necklace!). By this time everyone else had realised the music was coming from me, and a huge round of applause filled the room, along with some questioning looks 'wasn't she just signing? Isn't she deaf? How can she talk on the phone?' After what seemed like an age, I finally found my phone and answered it with a weak 'hi', which was met with a burst of laughter from everyone in the room. I think my face resembled that of a tomato. Then the band started playing again (they kindly waited for me to answer my phone before they started - which just made me more embarrassed and aware that every single eye in the hall was watching my every move).
The phone call, in case you're wondering, was a friend asking for a lift. So off Peanut and I went to pick them up. We then returned to my college to listen to some more music. At this point we decided to sign along to the music. Some people sing to it, we signed to it. The best song to sign to was definitely a cover of 'Bad Romance'. We got a few odd looks, but mostly people seemed amused by us signing the chorus. It's something I usually do to myself in clubs (like I said, some people sing, I sign), so sharing it with a friend was brilliant.
One thing Peanut and I did notice was the differences between our sign language. She lives down South, whereas I live up North. Just as there are different accents for different parts of Britain, there are different signs for different parts of Britain. Most of the signs are the same, there are just a few noticeable differences. Numbers being one of them. The differences weren't too big though - we had no problem understanding each other.
It was also great being able to sign to each other in the club later on in the evening and on the bar crawl the next night. Most of my hearing friends are pretty awesome in that they go above and beyond to make me feel included and to make sure that I'm not excluded too much because of my lack of hearing. I couldn't ask for a better bunch of friends. But sometimes I do feel like I'm asking too much from them, that my being deaf is a nuisance to them. (They've never done anything to make me feel this way - I'm just conscious of the fact that I don't want to be a burden to anyone). So being able to sign with a friend was just brilliant. Although I didn't want to sign too much as I didn't want to exclude all my non-signing friends. It was difficult - finally, I could hold a conversation without asking 'what?' every 5 minutes or just smiling like an idiot if I didn't hear something, but in doing so I excluded everyone else. I hope I didn't upset my non-signing hearing friends - if I did, I'm very sorry!
Seeing Peanut again was great fun - we had a lot of catching up to do. The fact that she could sign to me was an added bonus. Definitely looking forward to her next visit.
Deaf Girl
The day that Peanut arrived, my college at university was having a small music festival. Nothing big or fancy, just a chance for student bands to be heard. It gives everyone an excuse to just relax and have a drink (then again, we're students - no excuse is needed!). It was a lot of fun - I love listening to live music. The only problem is that I can't hear anything except the music. A spoken conversation is out of the question - my lip-reading isn't quite good enough to hold a long conversation.
On the other hand, I can hold a reasonably decent BSL conversation. Nothing deep or meaningful, but a decent conversation none-the-less. Usually there's just no one else around that can have a conversation in BSL. In comes Peanut. It didn't matter that I couldn't hear a word she was saying and that I wasn't focusing on lip-reading, we were signing away to each other. I could enjoy the music and have a conversation - it was fantastic!
At one point, the band that was playing took a little break between songs. It was at this time that all the conversation in the hall fell silent. Peanut and I were still signing away to each other. So the entire hall was silent. Until... 'Summer of 69' came blasting out. For a split second I wondered where on earth the music was coming from, as did everyone else in the room. Then I realised. It was my phone. With reddening cheeks, I fumbled in my bag to silence it (I was cursing the fact that I wasn't wearing my bluetooth necklace!). By this time everyone else had realised the music was coming from me, and a huge round of applause filled the room, along with some questioning looks 'wasn't she just signing? Isn't she deaf? How can she talk on the phone?' After what seemed like an age, I finally found my phone and answered it with a weak 'hi', which was met with a burst of laughter from everyone in the room. I think my face resembled that of a tomato. Then the band started playing again (they kindly waited for me to answer my phone before they started - which just made me more embarrassed and aware that every single eye in the hall was watching my every move).
The phone call, in case you're wondering, was a friend asking for a lift. So off Peanut and I went to pick them up. We then returned to my college to listen to some more music. At this point we decided to sign along to the music. Some people sing to it, we signed to it. The best song to sign to was definitely a cover of 'Bad Romance'. We got a few odd looks, but mostly people seemed amused by us signing the chorus. It's something I usually do to myself in clubs (like I said, some people sing, I sign), so sharing it with a friend was brilliant.
One thing Peanut and I did notice was the differences between our sign language. She lives down South, whereas I live up North. Just as there are different accents for different parts of Britain, there are different signs for different parts of Britain. Most of the signs are the same, there are just a few noticeable differences. Numbers being one of them. The differences weren't too big though - we had no problem understanding each other.
It was also great being able to sign to each other in the club later on in the evening and on the bar crawl the next night. Most of my hearing friends are pretty awesome in that they go above and beyond to make me feel included and to make sure that I'm not excluded too much because of my lack of hearing. I couldn't ask for a better bunch of friends. But sometimes I do feel like I'm asking too much from them, that my being deaf is a nuisance to them. (They've never done anything to make me feel this way - I'm just conscious of the fact that I don't want to be a burden to anyone). So being able to sign with a friend was just brilliant. Although I didn't want to sign too much as I didn't want to exclude all my non-signing friends. It was difficult - finally, I could hold a conversation without asking 'what?' every 5 minutes or just smiling like an idiot if I didn't hear something, but in doing so I excluded everyone else. I hope I didn't upset my non-signing hearing friends - if I did, I'm very sorry!
Seeing Peanut again was great fun - we had a lot of catching up to do. The fact that she could sign to me was an added bonus. Definitely looking forward to her next visit.
Deaf Girl
Sunday, 26 June 2011
Au revoir
Last week was the leaving party for a good friend of mine, lets call her Frenchie. I will definitely miss her - university just won't be the same without Frenchie.
It was a good party. As Frenchie said herself; you can tell it's a good party when one or more people are either a) headfirst in the toilet and b) need to crash on the sofa. Both of which happened. It was definitely a terrific leaving party. Just hope Frenchie enjoyed herself as much as the rest of us did!
There was, however, one thing that did get on my nerves. Actually, to be perfectly honest, I got quite angry, which was probably an overreaction on my part. I did wonder whether to write about this or not. In the end I decided that this blog is here so hearing people can understand my world a bit, and this is part of that.
For most of the evening I was talking to two of my friends. Everything was fine. As the evening went on everyone was getting slightly more toxicated. My two friends then decided it would be funny to cover their mouths with their hands so I couldn't lip-read (remember, I rely on lip-reading at parties as there's too much background noise for my hearing aids to work properly). They then decided to whisper in my ear when I wasn't looking at them.
'Can you hear us?' 'What are we saying?' 'You can't hear us!!' 'This is funny.'
Hilarious.
I must admit, I did lose my temper and get angry. I know it wasn't meant in a nasty way, I know it was meant as a joke. I just couldn't take it like that. Especially when the 'joke' lasted around 5 minutes or so.
I imagine that you wouldn't go up to a blind person and say 'how many fingers am I holding up? Oh wait, you're blind, you can't see!' Or to someone that doesn't have any depth perception; 'try and grab my finger' and then proceed to move said finger. Or to someone in a wheelchair; 'let's run over there, oh wait, you can't, you're in a wheelchair!'
Perhaps I did overreact and shouldn't have gotten angry. Perhaps I should have taken it as a joke, as it was intended. I just couldn't. It just felt like something about me, a core part of me, was being mocked and ridiculed. Not only was I angry, I was also hurt and upset. It felt like I was being ridiculed and insulted for having a 'disability'.
They then made the comment 'oh, I bet we're going to read about this in her blog!' That's why it's taken me a week to write this entry, because I wasn't sure if I should or not. I know I did probably overreact and it shouldn't have affected me in the way it did. But it is something that affected me, so therefore, it needs to be in this blog.
Other than that, it was a great party. I made up with the friends concerned and we all enjoyed ourselves. I ended up sleeping over and crashing on a spare mattress on the floor in Frenchie's room.
I will miss Frenchie a lot. She's a great person and a wonderful friend - university just won't be the same without her.
Deaf Girl
It was a good party. As Frenchie said herself; you can tell it's a good party when one or more people are either a) headfirst in the toilet and b) need to crash on the sofa. Both of which happened. It was definitely a terrific leaving party. Just hope Frenchie enjoyed herself as much as the rest of us did!
There was, however, one thing that did get on my nerves. Actually, to be perfectly honest, I got quite angry, which was probably an overreaction on my part. I did wonder whether to write about this or not. In the end I decided that this blog is here so hearing people can understand my world a bit, and this is part of that.
For most of the evening I was talking to two of my friends. Everything was fine. As the evening went on everyone was getting slightly more toxicated. My two friends then decided it would be funny to cover their mouths with their hands so I couldn't lip-read (remember, I rely on lip-reading at parties as there's too much background noise for my hearing aids to work properly). They then decided to whisper in my ear when I wasn't looking at them.
'Can you hear us?' 'What are we saying?' 'You can't hear us!!' 'This is funny.'
Hilarious.
I must admit, I did lose my temper and get angry. I know it wasn't meant in a nasty way, I know it was meant as a joke. I just couldn't take it like that. Especially when the 'joke' lasted around 5 minutes or so.
I imagine that you wouldn't go up to a blind person and say 'how many fingers am I holding up? Oh wait, you're blind, you can't see!' Or to someone that doesn't have any depth perception; 'try and grab my finger' and then proceed to move said finger. Or to someone in a wheelchair; 'let's run over there, oh wait, you can't, you're in a wheelchair!'
Perhaps I did overreact and shouldn't have gotten angry. Perhaps I should have taken it as a joke, as it was intended. I just couldn't. It just felt like something about me, a core part of me, was being mocked and ridiculed. Not only was I angry, I was also hurt and upset. It felt like I was being ridiculed and insulted for having a 'disability'.
They then made the comment 'oh, I bet we're going to read about this in her blog!' That's why it's taken me a week to write this entry, because I wasn't sure if I should or not. I know I did probably overreact and it shouldn't have affected me in the way it did. But it is something that affected me, so therefore, it needs to be in this blog.
Other than that, it was a great party. I made up with the friends concerned and we all enjoyed ourselves. I ended up sleeping over and crashing on a spare mattress on the floor in Frenchie's room.
I will miss Frenchie a lot. She's a great person and a wonderful friend - university just won't be the same without her.
Deaf Girl
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)