My Parent's Can't Hear Me

My parents were great lip readers, so I never had to learn sign language. Ironically, both my parents were deaf and I was born hearing. My grandmother, who was also deaf did teach me some sign's, such as MOTHER, FATHER, MILK, SUGAR, COFFEE, and TEA. I also did learn how to sign the alphabet when I was very little. In fact, my parents never taught me to sign the alphabet nor did I ever asked my parents to teach me. It so happened that one day, when I was nine years old, my father took me McDonalds. I loved McDonalds. They didn't have Happy Meals back then. But I loved eating Big Mac's and for some reason the French fries tasted a lot better then they do today. We used the Drive-thru and when we received our bag of food, inside the bag was a card with the hand sign's for the alphabet. While we ate, my father spelled out some easy words, like C-A-T, D-O-G, R-I-C-H, and I would look at the card to see what words he was spelling. It was like learning a secret confidential language. As I was learning this sign language, I began to scheme that if my friend Fred in my class at school had this card we could secretly talk and/or even trade answers on a test. So, after my father and I finish our meal we drove off to where ever we were going for the day. But by the time we reach home by that evening I had all the hand signs for the alphabet memorized. Which, I promptly impressed my mother with.

Next day at school, I showed my friend Fred our new secret language and I gave him the card that I received from McDonalds the day before. I did not need it any more since I had memorized the whole alphabet in sign language. He seem excited that we could pull something over on the teacher. After learning a math lesson, a subject that I detested when I was a child. Mrs. Sharky, my teacher instructed the class that we had to work on our own to solve the problems at the end of the chapter in the book. Of course there was a big commotion of sighs and moans, and as the class was settling down, I took this moment to tell Fred that I'll do one problem and give the answer to him via our new secret code language and then he'll do then next problem and sign the answer to me, and then back and forth, cutting our work in half. The class was quite and diligently working on their math problems. I did the first problem and then signed the answer "A" over to my friend Fred who was in the next row and one seat back. While waiting for the answer to the next problem, I had to keep turning my head over my shoulder. Mrs. Sharky piped out, "Richard, keep your eyes on your own paper." I looked straight forward of a little while then when she wasn't looking I looked back of my shoulder again. This time Fred signed to me the answer "B". I turned straight again, and Mrs. Sharky was looking right at me with a questionable look on her face and said sternly, "keep your eyes on your paper." Ha, I thought. She had no idea what we were up to. The next math problem was mine. When I knew the answer, I turned my head until Fred looked up from his paper to me and this time a blatantly signed the letter "D" to Fred until he looked down to his paper again. Before I even turn my head back around, Mrs. Sharky yelled out my name "Richard!" So loud the next class could hear it. It startled me and rest of the class. "Do your own work!" She said screamed, then she said "I see that you know how to use Sign Language, I expect that you will show the class on Friday for show and tell?" I nodded my head in agreement. I was caught. I thought that I was getting over on my teacher but she was more educated that I thought. Well, I thought that there were not as many deaf people in the world that I now know that there is, and that not that many people would be familiar with sign language,. Least of all Mrs. Sharky. But now upon reflection, I must have been an idiot to think that Mrs. Sharky wouldn't put together the fact that my parents were deaf and that sign language was their means of communication and that I would learn how to sign eventually, at least through osmosis. Mrs. Sharky and my mother had to have a parent teacher conference about this dirty deed. For a few days after their conference, this was the joke amongst the family.

This episode brings up an important point. Among other things, my parents did not want to raise me as a hearing-deaf child, that is, raised as a deaf child even though I am hearing which is an easy thing to do. It's like, a family of army officers impressing upon a family member the life of a officer, when the child isn't interested in ever joining the armed forces in the first place, but respects the fact that his family has chosen this vocation. This, in my opinion, drives most hearing children away from their parents when they become reach adolecence. I understand that parents who are deaf or of a certain nationality for that matter, may want to share their culture with their children. And, this is a good thing. However, my parents never closed themselves inside their deaf culture or deaf world, as some people like to call it, that is, they never only wanted to associate with deaf people and had to dealt with hearing people because of work. Most of all, my father is very sure of himself. I am thankful that this trait has rubbed off on me. So, his inability to hear and speak clearly was, to him, never a obstacle or at least something that he over compensated for.

Have I ever wish my parent's did not have a hearing loss? I could honestly say, that wishing that my parents were never deaf is a thought has never crossed my mind unfortunately. And, I say unfortunately because then I could have some insight for the many people who ask me that question.