| The deaf community is at a transitional stage in the struggle to convince the world that, yes, deaf people are more than capable of handling the same levels of responsibility that their hearing colleagues do. I’ve read many articles and participated in many conversations where the need to make the language of the Americans with Disabilities Act more explicit was discussed, especially with regards to employment. While this would be fantastic, asking for the gaps in the ADA (and other pieces of anti-discrimination legislation) to be filled is, I’m afraid, unrealistic. We live in a society that thrives on litigation. This is a polite way of saying that people are suing each other like crazy. While legal action is often necessary to bring about positive change, it is also widely abused (wasted, really) on petty issues that serve no purpose other than to tie up legal resources. I would daresay that the escalating number of frivolous (let’s call them what they really are, which is ridiculous) lawsuits has led to companies and other establishments seeking to protect themselves legally and financially, hence the loopholes. I’m sure that some people will say that my explanation is overly simplistic and that there are parts of the “big picture” that I’m not seeing. I’ll be the first to admit that they’re probably right. I’ll also be the first person to say that my explanation is a significant part of the problem. However, I’ll let those with far more education and experience in these matters argue about it. Every deaf professional I have met in my life has a tale to tell of discrimination, of being assigned tasks that do not fully utilize their considerable abilities, of being left “out of the loop” when comes to information dissemination, of being denied interpreters (or, worse yet, being made to feel guilty for even requesting one!), and of generally being left unsure of their place in the hierarchy of their job. These are disheartening tales to listen to and they always make me see red and wonder how hearing people can be so dense when it comes to the deaf. I’ve made the statement many times over the years that in order for a deaf worker to garner even a fraction of the respect and recognition that is afforded to their hearing colleagues, they must be prepared to work three times as hard. What deaf individuals are experiencing now in the workplace can only benefit future generations of deaf workers. Right now, at this point in history, lessons in perseverance, determination, and self reliance are being taught. No one can deny that there are more deaf people in the professional arena now than there were thirty years ago. Doctors, lawyers, teachers, researchers, authors, business owners, computer programmers – all of these occupations (and more!) now contain within their ranks accomplished deaf members. This is an exciting time to be alive! | |
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| I took some time off from blogging to do a little something I like to call Having a Life. After a while, my good buddy told me that there were all sorts of interesting things (to say the least) happening over at DeafRead and urged me to catch up. So I did . . . and now I'm debating whether to thank my aforementioned good buddy for alerting me to the nonsense that's going on within the HTML-generated pages of the DeafRead website.
There is no polite way to say this: everyone who's involved in the fracas is a bloomin' idiot. The past few weeks have severely eroded Deaf Power to such a degree that who knows how long it'll take to heal the damage?
Is this what our ancestors fought for? Is this why they put up with centuries of abuse and persecution? Just so a couple of rabblerousers can get everyone in a snit over some silly blogs and vlogs?
If that is true, then the Deaf Community doesn't DESERVE to have any kind of power. If you cannot rise above the pettiness that is bound to come along every now and then, then you have not proven a damn thing except that you have not evolved enough to be able to handle any type of power.
Remember Spider-Man? "With great power comes great responsibility." I've seen more maturity and better judgment from preschoolers fighting over a toy.
Disgusting. Truly, truly disgusting.
If you want to go anywhere and be worth anything, it's time to GROW UP. | |
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| There's a vlog on DeafRead that talks about how a No Cut policy is a good thing. If you haven't seen it yet, go. Here's the link: http://www.ascdeaf.com/blog/ There's also some links to some written material as well. Basically, they're saying that competition is bad, bad, bad and we need to protect the fragile minds of our deaf youth. Our deaf youth already have enough challenges standing in the way of them and success. They do NOT need to be mollycoddled into thinking that competition is bad just because, gosh darn it!, someone's feelings might be hurt. Competition is part of human nature. It's inbred. It cannot be avoided. Need someplace to live? So do about seven billion other people on this planet. There's competition right there. Need something to eat? In some countries, it's a daily struggle (also known as a COMPETITION) to find enough nourishment. The world does not have unlimited resources. People NEED to compete to get what they need. I could argue that competition is what enables us to survive. Take AIDS, for example. Terrible, terrible disease. Our scientists and doctors right now are in competition with AIDS because they want to beat it. There have been many setbacks in finding a cure for AIDS, but that competitive spirit is what keeps our researchers going. That is what led smallpox and polio to be eliminated. Take competition away and what happens? Our young people lose the opportunity to learn the value of resilience. They do not develop the impetus to look within themselves and find what else they might be good at. Yes, losing hurts. However, it is also a chance to see how that disappointment can be changed into a victory. Perhaps the kid will practice harder so next time, his slot will be more secure. Competition, when managed correctly, leads to self-discovery. I agree that there is an ugly side to competition. We've all seen the out of control parent and the disrespect that players show each other. But this is NOT a good enough reason to label all competition as bad. It's actually a good opportunity to teach responsibility and civility. There is some research that says that children do not handle winning and losing well before the age of nine. OK, fine. But that doesn't mean we can't introduce the CONCEPT of competition before then (i.e. "You're playing and learning now but later on . . . "). Kids aren't stupid. They can turn on the TV and see the results of competition. To deny that, to keep them in a bubble where everyone "is a winner!" is not only lamebrained, it's irresponsible. I would also wager that it leads to the path of EXPECTING everything to be fair. 'Taint so. Kid gets cut from the baseball team? Encourage him to look elsewhere. That's the great thing about this country . . . you have the freedom to make CHOICES. You're not limited to what's in front of you. | |
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| Years ago, when I was a young'un (I'd say I was about 13 or 14), I received two behind-the-ear aids. Now, back then, BTE models weren't the small, discreet ones you can get nowadays. They were huge and made you look like one of those aliens in the cantina scene in the first Star Wars movie. Forget about trying to "fit in" or remain inconspicious. You couldn't be more obvious if you stood in the middle of an intersection, spun in circles, and screamed, "Look at me!!!"
I digress. I went through all the testing and endured the thoughtful looks of the audiologist as they confirmed that, yup, my ears were operating at way less than full capacity. Whew, thank God they were there to tell me that. I would hate to think that the years I spent asking people to repeat themselves and popping Tylenol to deal with the headaches associated with lip-reading were nothing more than a PRODUCT OF MY FREAKING IMAGINATION.
So I got the aids. I remember being relieved because I didn't have that annoying cord that attached the two units resting on the back of my neck any longer. That thing ITCHED. It was great for pretending that my BTEs were a futuristic nunchuck (HI-YAHH!!!), not so much for comfort. This was the early '80s, mind you, so technology was nowhere near as advanced as it is now.
Damn, you young whippersnappers today are SPOILED.
Anyhoo, a couple of days after I get these things, my mother and I were leaving on a trip. We got up early in the morning, a sure sign that God has it in for me. I get dressed, slap the BTEs on, and meander outside.
It was still dark. It was that time of night where the world just STOPS. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse . . . sorry, couldn't resist.
I heard something. It was low and incessant. It was making me nuts so I asked Mom, "What am I hearing?"
Mom stopped, tilted her head, and listened. She smiled.
"Those are crickets."
I had never heard crickets before. "So that's what they sound like."
I have NO idea why I'm remembering this now. NO, it's NOT because I wish I were hearing. Maybe it was the uniqueness of the experience, a reminder that we need to slow down and develop an appreciation for the beauty of the ENTIRE world, not just our little corner of it.
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| For some reason, I'm thinking about Steve Irwin right now. He was known as "The Crocodile Hunter" and he had a TV show where he would do all sorts of crazy stuff. He'd play with snakes that could kill you in an instant. He crawled around in caves and bat poop (officially called "guano" but anything that comes out of the hind end of anything is "poop" in my book). He rode elephants. He did all sorts of things that had a lot of people calling him "crazy."
I don't know if he was or wasn't, but I can say this: the man loved what he did and it was obvious. He was living the life HE wanted. 'Tis a shame when he was killed by a stingray. Most people (myself included) were sure he'd be either eaten by one of those crocodiles of his or bitten by some irritable snake.
That brings me to my question: what drives you? What do you want out of life? What are you doing to make it happen? Are you actively searching for the next stage in your personal development as a person or are you trudging through the day at a job you don't like? | |
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| On the evening of June 14, 2005, I received a rude lesson in basic physics. That lesson is as follows: when a person steps on a child’s toy that just happens to have wheels on it, pain will be involved. The human knee is probably the worst-designed part of the human anatomy. It’s basically a bunch of bones sitting on top of each other connected by muscle. With all that the knee is asked to do, you would think that the Creator or Evolution would realize that that’s one area of the body that you don’t want to skimp on in terms of support. But I digress. All of my weight came down on my right knee. Much screaming and howling followed. An ambulance was called. The paramedics were on the short side. I asked them if they thought they should call for backup since I’m 6’7”. Dirty looks were shot in my direction and the two of them somehow managed to load me in the back of the ambulance (and probably rupturing a couple their internal organs in the process). On the way to the hospital, I asked one of them to please call ahead and let the Emergency Room know that I required the services of an American Sign Language interpreter. I am hard of hearing. In terms of decibel loss, I’m 95 in my left ear and about 65 in my right. This basically means that I can’t hear a thing out of my left ear and my right ear is at roughly 60% capacity. I can speak clearly (thanks to about 12 years of speech therapy) and use the telephone, as long as it has an amplifier (otherwise, I have to cram the thing halfway down my ear canal). I call my house the Pinball Machine because it’s full of flashing lights and buzzing things to let me know what’s going on with the phone, fire alarm, doorbell, and so forth. So my hearing loss is very real and if interpreters can be utilized, I’m all for it. I was assured that my request had been relayed to the proper person and that someone would be there to facilitate communication. Fantastic. I should also mention that my wife was meeting me at the ER. She is totally deaf. I’m always concerned that she be able to follow events. We arrived at the ER and I was taken to a room. One of the paramedics told me that he had again conveyed my request for an interpreter. Bless his heart. I have had occasion to visit many an Emergency Room during the course of my life. One fact that quickly becomes apparent is that the wait for services can take quite a while. This is understandable. Aggravating, for sure, but understandable. I try not to be a difficult patient. I figure that those in the medical profession put up with enough grief (literally and figuratively) so I try not to add to it. I do not remember how much time passed. I again asked where my interpreter was and was informed that it was being worked on. Then the doctor came in. He had this swagger that told me that he was convinced that he was God’s gift to the world and that his feces didn’t stink. Don’t ask me how, but I just knew I was going to have a problem with this dude. I told him (using my voice) that I needed an interpreter and his response was: “But you can speak.” OK, give the man points for his brilliant deductive reasoning. That didn’t change the fact that I still needed an interpreter. I mentioned that my wife was deaf and had the right to know what was going on as well as I did. “Well, why don’t you sign for her?” Now let’s just stop here for a second and take a good look at this, shall we? He was suggesting that I, a patient with a significant hearing loss, act as an interpreter for my wife. He was conveniently forgetting that I was in a LOT of pain. My dislike for this pompous ass was growing at an exponential rate. He was definitely not going on my Christmas card list. Had I been by myself, I most likely would have let it go. Although I would have preferred an interpreter, I have gotten by with my residual hearing for years. Did I really want an interpreter? Yes, but since emergency rooms are not known for being bastions of peace and tranquility, my normal inclination would have been not to add to the chaos any more than necessary. But this doctor, this idiot with a medical degree, had committed two transgressions that bothered me far more than the searing pain in my knee. One, he had made the assumption that since I could speak, I could hear enough to get by without an interpreter. In other words, he was applying a very common stereotype that the deaf have had to put up with for centuries. Two, he was minimizing my wife’s concern in a very condescending way. That is the equivalent of spitting in her face and that wasn’t something I was prepared to tolerate. Add the fact that my knee really did hurt and you can understand why I wasn’t feeling like Mr. Sunshine. I argued with the guy and I didn’t even try to be polite about it. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn that he had this SMIRK on his face. I was determined to wipe that smirk off his face, my knee be damned. My wife finally told me to be quiet and let him check me over. She was upset about the lack of accessibility but she was more concerned about my well-being. The interpreter showed up in time to tell me that I could go home. I asked her when she had received the call and she said about thirty minutes previously. If memory serves, I had made the request something like three hours ago. Modesty prevents me from repeating what I said next, but let’s just say that the more colorful parts of my vocabulary were expressed in a loud manner. They gave me a pair of crutches. I waved them around and threatened to perform a full proctologic examination on anyone who even BREATHED in my direction. Not only had I dealt with a doctor who was a flat-out piece of fecal matter, but I felt as though I had been lied to for the past 180 minutes. What’s more, all of these other educated medical professionals LET it happen. Oh, I was ready to hurt somebody. It was recommended that I contact Patient Services to file a complaint. I did this the very next day, although privately I felt as though I were wasting my time. Customer service and satisfaction in this country has been steadily declining for years. The most I expected was someone who would at least pretend to be sympathetic to my concerns. I almost decided not to do it but in the end I did, figuring that if nothing else, my feelings would be on record. Imagine my surprise when, about a week or so later, I received an official letter of apology from the Emergency department. They said that the insensitive doctor was reprimanded and would be sent to sensitivity training. Pfft. They should have tarred and feathered the SOB, then given him the mother of all wedgies. | |
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| Last year at Thanksgiving, myself, my wife, and daughter were at my mother's house. The food was good and everyone was making an effort to get along. Of course, my wife and I ended up talking to each other, as no other members of my family can sign. This means mucho boredom on our part, but our daughter loves visiting her grandma, so we just grin and bear it.
Anyhoo, at one point my mother looks at us and says, "When she grows up, she can interpret for you two!"
Being the diplomatic sort that I am, I say, "Oh, hell, no."
Mom starts nodding her head vigorously, "Oh, yes. She has to!"
I said, "We were doing just fine fending for ourselves before she was born. I'm not putting that pressure on her."
Mom's not a bad person. She was thinking about how our lives would be easier if we DID make our kid interpret for us. See, my mother is about convenience. If it works or if it's easy to get ahold of, do it. Got a headache? Take a pill. Losing your hair? Wear a wig or use Rogaine. Don't feel like getting your own drink from the refridgerator? Have someone get it for you. Need an interpreter? Grab the kid.
I will be the first to admit that it's great having her with us when we go to a noisy restaurant. She lets us know when they call our name. I always tell the hostess to wave or tap me when our table is ready, but they forget a lot. She also tells us when the dog is making noises that indicate she needs to use the bathroom, However, she does these things VOLUNTARILY. We do not ask her to.
My daughter is five years old. She's got a world full of opportunities to explore and I will NOT limit her in any way by telling her that when she gets older, she's going to be our personal interpreter. Taking away someone's ability to choose their own destiny is a horrible thing to do. It's happened to me before and damn near drove me insane, seriously.
Now, when she's older and has had the opportunity to discover her own strengths, if she decides then to become an interpreter, fantastic. I STILL don't want her to think she has to interpret for us. The literature is full of stories by children of deaf adults (CODAs) who feel angry, bitter, cheated, and so forth because they were viewed as interpreters for their parents.
The best gift we can give her is the gift to choose. Of course, that means we're not going to like all of her choices but it does mean that we'll have to respect them. Suppose she decides she wants nothing to do with the deaf community? Do we tell her that she can't make that choice? As painful as it sounds, the answer is no. Her life, her choice, her path.
We DO tell her that when she's talking with Mommy and Daddy, she needs to sign. If we go to a deaf event, we tell her that she has to sign. We do this so she develops a respect for the communication needs of different populations. She has no problem with this.
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| I just got done reading ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) thumpaflash latest blog entry (dated June 1st). If you haven't read it yet, do yourself a favor and go read it RIGHT NOW. There's a story in my book, Tarnished Halos and Crooked Fences, about one time when I was feeling particularly sorry for myself because of my deafness and as a result, my attitude at school sucked. Big time. One of my teachers, Mrs. Snyder, noticed this and knew the reasonwhy, even though I didn't say a word to her. One day, I was leaving class and she was there, sticking her finger in my face and saying, "Your hearing loss does not give you an excuse to NOT succeed!" All I could do was gape at her as she spun around and walked away. This happened well over 20 years ago and I STILL remember every detail like it was only yesterday. ThumpaFlash and I often talk about something called the Thumpa Attitude. Basically, it's an attitude of never giving up, of recognizing your God-given talents and using them to better yourself. It means that you refuse to be a victim and you live life to the fullest degree you can. You don't have to be the best at everything, but you do have to perform at your maximum capabilities. So I'm thinking about the Thumpa Attitude and it hit me - Mrs. Snyder knew what the Thumpa Attitude was before we even gave it a name. She recognized that I had the potential to do great things within me and she would be damned if she'd let me forget it. When I was writing my book, I contacted her and asked her why she had said what she said at that particular time. Her response? "I knew what you were capable of. Your hearing loss was only a limitation if you let it be. I figured you needed to be reminded of that." That, my friends, is the sign of someone who GETS IT. 'Ol Thumpster and I (along with a buddy of ours we call Drolz) may have named it, but she was living it. I didn't recognize it back then, but she had just given me some of the best advice I have ever received. Mrs. Snyder, I am in your debt. | |
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| I spotted this little saying on a United States Marine Corps bumper sticker:
"Pacifism is a luxury paid for by warriors."
Or, as George Orwell, put it:
"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."
Enjoy your rights? THANK A VET. | |
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| The importance of a secure sense of self-esteem cannot be overestimated. A healthy self-esteem has been associated with everything from an increased sense of personal happiness to career satisfaction. With this in mind, it almost becomes a matter of common sense that we should do everything in our power to develop and promote self-esteem in our deaf and hard of hearing youth. One of the simplest and most effective ways of achieving this goal is to stop using the phrase hearing-impaired. The definition of impair is: to become worse, to diminish in ability and value. Is this the message that we want to give our deaf and hard of hearing youth? That they have less value and worth simply because they lack full auditory capacities? That they’re broken and there’s something wrong with them? There is a saying that goes, Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. This is a lie. Words have an extraordinary amount of power. They have the ability to shape people’s attitudes and behaviors. When I give a presentation, one of my main points is that using hearing-impaired is actually harmful and does much to damage a person’s self-esteem. I am often challenged on this point, so I use the following examples: - Would you call someone who was overweight thin-impaired?
- Would you call someone who was short height-impaired?
- Would you call someone who was living in poverty money-impaired?
These examples usually prompt laughter but I can see that they make some people uncomfortable (“Heh, heh. Um, where’s he going with this?”). Then, just to really make them pay attention, I say: - Would you label someone who was African-American as being Caucasian-impaired?
- Is someone who is Caucasian African-American impaired?
In order to elevate the self-esteem of our deaf and hard of hearing youth (really, anyone), we must first show that we respect who they are and not what they are lacking. Think before you speak. | |
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