Open letter to hearing friends and family

Dear family and friends,

            This last Christmas, I'm sure you all noticed me and Mum signing. And some of you told me to stop signing. Some of you seemed quite frustrated with me, and what I was missing, or my odd behavior. There is something you need to know:

            I am going Deaf. In the past, I could pass off as hearing as well as you. I can no longer do that. I am completely Deaf on my left side. Nothing gets through that side. My hearing aid on that side doesn't even help that ear, but only acts as a radio to send the sound over to my right side. And now, my right side is also mildly hard of hearing.

            I am beyond tired of pretending everything is okay when I walk into a family or public event. And I will never stop signing. I am going Deaf, and when I become fully Deaf that will be my main mode of communication. It makes you uncomfortable? Put yourself in my shoes; missing over half of what you say and being left out of everything is misery. It turns every family and social event into a nightmare.

            When I sign, the world opens up to me. I can understand, I can communicate, I can connect. I am no longer cut off from the people I love. When you tell me not to sign, you place me in a cage, where the words I can't understand make the bars of that cage. Only random words are discernible from the myriad of sounds surrounding me. I can't leave without being rude, and yet you deny me the only way I have equal access to the conversation. You laugh, and I ask what happens, and you tell me that you'll tell me later, though we both know that that later will never come. You talk about plans and events, things that happened in your life, but I never know, because I can't hear you.

            And I can't take it any more. Your words fly around me, but mean nothing to me. I know I'm missing out, and it will only get worse as time goes by. I try to express myself in body language, because I'm trying to break out of the wordless sound I'm in, and you tell me to stop being so childish.

            How can I break free? You won't let me sign, you won't accept my body language that I use to express myself when words fail, and thus I am cut off from my own family and friends.

 Don't you love me enough to face a little discomfort so I can be in your world? Every day is discomfort for me. A fear of a stranger yelling at me because I don't understand; nodding and smiling when people are talking because everyone else is, though I have no idea what they're saying; seeing people laugh, and knowing I miss the punch line and missing feeling the sweet comradeship there is in laughing together; having a store clerk ask me a question, and having to stare at her with an uncomprehending smile without a clue of what she's saying. Can't you take the time for a few hours to face discomfort so I can know what is going on in your lives? When I ask mum to interpret for me so I don't have to rely on my weakest sense, can't you realize that I ask because I care what you have to say? And when I can't hear at all, can't you realize that I sign because I don't want to be alone, and not because I don't want to exclude you? That I sign because your speech is excluding me, and I don't want to be alone any more than you do?

I come to events because I love you, though it takes all my effort to understand. If it were just me, I would stay home and read a book, or blast music that is loud enough for me to hear. Honestly, every event where I have to hear is exhaustion. Can't you love me back by trying to help me instead of hindering me? All you do is complain about what I'm doing. Is it really loving of you to pretend everything is ok and to make no effort to help me, but to hinder every attempt I make at trying to hear you? If you will not help me, then what can I do?

I can no longer pretend. I am going Deaf. I struggle to hear you. If you will not help me hear you, then I will stop trying to hear you, because if it is not important enough for you to help me understand, then it is no longer important enough for me to waste my energy on it. If I cannot sign, if you will not write out difficult words that you've said, if you will not accept that my loud body language makes up for what I cannot seem to express in the sound I am slowly losing, then I will no longer try to come to your events, for there is no purpose for me to come. It is little better than seeing an old movie of you with the sound almost muted. I love you, but I cannot pretend any more that I can fully hear.

Sincerely in CHRIST,

Kiwi