Hard of Hearing yet culturally Deaf
My early childhood years were sometimes like a roller coaster ride. Though I have always had my family and American Sign Language, those two things were constant in my life. Love and compassion with a deep interest in art, literature, language, music, camping, and hiking were important in my family. We have always been close. To this day, they remain my base support. I was lucky to be raised in a Deaf family with a rich background in Deaf Culture and American Sign Language. I grew up well-adjusted compared to others who were the only Deaf / Hard of hearing members in their family.
The benefit of having full access to communication since birth provided me with the experience of developing this deep bond with my mother and uncle. I also grew up with hearing (non-deaf) family members who could communicate in American Sign Language, which seldom happens for most deaf/hard of hearing children. I learned later in life that many others suffered due to limited communication within their family.
My family
My mother graduated from North Carolina School for the Deaf in 1983, and my uncle graduated from there in 1986. Because they are both alumni, I had the opportunity to attend Deaf events with them, such as the annual school’s Homecoming Game, Deaf Camping, Deaf Bowling, Deaf Church gathering – it was endless.
I could remember going to the First Baptist Church of Morganton, where they had a Deaf Ministry, and the Pastor was fluent in American Sign Language. The church provided two separate services, one in American Sign Language and the other in spoken English. My hearing grandparents often came along, and when they did, I would sit with my grandparents during the spoken-English service. I was never about to follow the spoken-English services. I cannot remember anything as much as I remember many of the sermons in American Sign Language.
Many of my best memories were when we were “Deaf Camping.” It was a big thing in our community – camping on the islands at Lake James or Lake Myers in Mocksville for Halloween. We even had a Deaf Bass Fishing Club!
As a child, I always looked forward to the annual Christmas festivities hosted by Deaf Clubs in Lincolnton and Charlotte. Hundreds of Deaf/Hard of Hearing people would attend. It was like a massive family reunion. We all had different educational and socioeconomic backgrounds. There are no other communities that could be more diverse than the Deaf Community. None of it mattered as we had one important thing in common that tied us all together – our RICH visual language.
And. I. Loved. Every. Minute. Of. It.
The medical model is oppressive.
The degree of hearing level in the medical model is always quantified, from mild to severe. The medical model's attitudes and perceptions are rather damaging as their focus is fitting the disabled body as much as possible in the “normal” society.
Because the Individual Educational Plan (IEP) team decided that I was not deaf enough, I was mainstreamed. I was placed in regular classrooms with hearing peers.
My life as a mainstream student
Had I been born a decade earlier, I would have been enrolled in a school for the Deaf. I cannot even begin to imagine how different my life would have been. It is hard when society decides that you are not deaf enough to be enrolled at a school for the Deaf.
It started when my grandmother had her suspicion. I was six years old. Doctors confirmed, after a barrage of tests, that I was hard of hearing. Immediately, they fitted me with hearing aids. It was neat at first until I wore them when I was attending public school. Right away, I saw how different I was from other kids. Boy, did they pick up on that immediately? My last name used to be Burney, and at the time, Barney the Purple Dinosaur, was immensely popular. It was not long that hearing kids started calling me Ear Wax Barney.
Despite being constantly teased and bullied at school, I always found solace with my family and Deaf people. Our Deaf Community was so diverse that I even hung out with other Children of Deaf Adults (CODA). They did not care as it was customary in the Deaf community. We had sign language. Communication was never difficult, and it was always effortlessly – like having a pair of glasses to wear and seeing clearly.
I am afraid I have to disagree with using the term “mainstream” used in public schools because deaf and hard of hearing students never receive full and equal access to academics and socialization than their hearing peers. Mainstreaming is not a realistic concept that the public-school system tries to sell to parents of deaf and hard of hearing children.
There is no inclusiveness in mainstreaming
I wanted my mother and uncle's experience growing up as a part of the NCSD Family. It was a dramatic difference going to a public school where I felt that constant isolation. A few hearing friends made some effort to connect with me, but they never really took a class in American Sign Language (ASL) and Deaf Culture. It would not be until years later, after high school and during college, that I would meet friends and have a girlfriend with who I could communicate in ASL. During high school, there was a large part of me that remained hidden. So very often, I would stand there, smiling and nodding, merely zoning out in my little world. I had social anxiety throughout high school. It was mentally exhausting and emotionally taxing to constantly lip-read an entire group of hearing peers. It is like watching a storm and trying to count all the raindrops.
At some point, somebody would notice and say, “HEY, why aren’t you saying anything?” Of course, there were a million things I wanted to say and get all the words out, but they could not possibly understand what I was feeling. Only the Deaf Community could.
I was encouraged to rely on my hearing aids, the FM system, and lip-reading in school. I cannot tell you how many times I relied on friends who clarified instructions for me in the classroom. The older I got, the more frustrated I became, and the more I wanted to transfer to North Carolina School for the Deaf (NCSD).
Starting my junior year in high school, I became resentful. I repeatedly asked my mother about transferring to NCSD. She supported me 100% and was even excited about the idea.
However, the Local Education Authorities disagreed. Their rationale: “Your IQ is too high. You would pass the classes too easily over there.” Looking back, I knew they misled me. We appealed five times. Each time the Local Education Authorities (LEA) denied the transfer. Even today, it is not that simple for any parent to transfer their deaf child to a school for the Deaf. The system has many unspoken rules about keeping deaf/hard of hearing students in public schools across the state.
I became frustrated and angry with how designed. I had reached an age where I felt I could make my own decision, deciding what type of education I needed. I wanted to spend my last two years of high school at NCSD where I could play sports, join organizations and clubs, and be around peers that shared my language. On top of everything, I wanted to advance my signing skills even further. Just the idea that I could go to Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C. after graduating from NCSD was a dream of mine. Over and over, we appealed the LEA’s decision, and each time they denied our requests.
It turns out - not even my mom had the power to override the LEA’s decision. As a result, I became resentful and cynical with the educational system and dropped out of public school. I eventually enrolled in the GED program at Western Piedmont Community College in Morganton, where I completed the program within two months. I then pursued a degree in the A.A.S program, studying Digital Effects Animation Technology.
Finding home in my culture and language
In hindsight, that was the best decision I had made for myself as a Deaf adult because it was the first time I used interpreting services for all my classes at the community college. It was a load off my shoulders. For a change, I did not have to rely on hearing aids or lip reading. Just because I could speak well did not mean I could hear well. Let me rephrase that – just because I could understand speech does not mean I understand it audibly or by
lip-reading alone.
NCSD has an impressive Media Productions team. Because my major, Digital Effect Animation Technology required work experience, I completed my internship at NCSD. I worked closely with Deaf professionals, Deaf teachers, and Deaf mentors who provided me an immense wealth of knowledge. Most importantly, I felt at home. I had finally found a home.
Life has brought me to a full circle. I am where I need to be and where I should have been a long time ago. I am very thankful, even consider myself lucky in some respects that I have a Deaf and Hearing family that was there to
support me.
However, there are many out there with similar stories to mine but without the support with family and friends that I have had. There are many others that I have met across the years who grew up more isolated and did not have the same access to the resources that I had.
One does not need to take an Introduction to Childhood Psychology to know that any child must be in an environment that gives them full access to a language, having the full social experience and proper education. It is the medical attitude that society rejects this fundamental aspect. Despite the multitude of research supporting the need for deaf cultural identity and an appropriate education using a visual language among Deaf / Hard of Hearing students, the system remains fixated on the medical model. For many, this creates long term psychological consequences.
Our educational system here in North Carolina needs a significant overhaul. When the system denies the negative long-term consequences and the people within the system turn a blind eye, society becomes accepted. Still today, Education for the Deaf is broken and very defective in modern terms with Mainstreaming. Deaf and Hard of Hearing individuals who have been mainstreamed are very much shut out or disconnected, walking alone throughout their life. Again, I am one of the lucky ones.
