Did you ever have something that you wanted so much that it almost hurts? And as much as you want it, you're afraid to hope for it because it will probably never happen? I do.
You all know that I'm culturally Deaf, and physically quite hard of hearing. Because of that, conversations with people are difficult and often stressful. Especially in a crowd, it makes it so difficult. And the louder the crowd gets, the more stressed out I am in conversations, until the point where I can no longer hear what the other people are saying.
Sometimes, I let myself dream of what it'd be like for someone to learn ASL just for me. Just so I don't have to struggle. Sometimes I let myself hope that maybe, one day, I could walk into church and my friends start signing with me, so I don't have to struggle to understand them. And every time I do, I get tears in my eyes, because I don't think that it will ever happen.
People think, because I can talk, that just talking with me includes me. Oh, I wish they knew how much I long to talk with them in ASL! It's so hard to use English when it's loud! People think I cope really well, but they don't know how much I have to let slide, or how much guessing I have to do to carry on a conversation. It's like trying to figure out a code in 5 seconds or less, and every time they speak, I have to figure out a new code, and then respond appropriately. I have gotten very good at the 'smile and nod' response.
I often wonder how different my relationships would be if I could simply walk up to anyone in church and carry on a conversation. Instead, I have to pick and choose who I talk to based on who I can hear. The group of people in church who I know well is very small, because there are so few people I can hear or speak with easily, and there are very few times where I can speak to them in a quiet environment.
Recently I made the mistake of introducing myself to the Pastor's niece (whose dad is also an elder), thinking she was new to the church, and I wanted to make her feel welcome. Imagine my embarrassment when I realized who she was! And it was entirely because I had never spoken with her because she too quiet for me to hear easily.
Honestly, I wish everyone knew ASL. But I really wish my friends and family knew it. I miss so much of their lives and of what's important to them, simply because I miss what they're saying.
If someone learned ASL for me, I think I'd cry. You have no idea how much I want that.
You all know that I'm culturally Deaf, and physically quite hard of hearing. Because of that, conversations with people are difficult and often stressful. Especially in a crowd, it makes it so difficult. And the louder the crowd gets, the more stressed out I am in conversations, until the point where I can no longer hear what the other people are saying.
Sometimes, I let myself dream of what it'd be like for someone to learn ASL just for me. Just so I don't have to struggle. Sometimes I let myself hope that maybe, one day, I could walk into church and my friends start signing with me, so I don't have to struggle to understand them. And every time I do, I get tears in my eyes, because I don't think that it will ever happen.
People think, because I can talk, that just talking with me includes me. Oh, I wish they knew how much I long to talk with them in ASL! It's so hard to use English when it's loud! People think I cope really well, but they don't know how much I have to let slide, or how much guessing I have to do to carry on a conversation. It's like trying to figure out a code in 5 seconds or less, and every time they speak, I have to figure out a new code, and then respond appropriately. I have gotten very good at the 'smile and nod' response.
I often wonder how different my relationships would be if I could simply walk up to anyone in church and carry on a conversation. Instead, I have to pick and choose who I talk to based on who I can hear. The group of people in church who I know well is very small, because there are so few people I can hear or speak with easily, and there are very few times where I can speak to them in a quiet environment.
Recently I made the mistake of introducing myself to the Pastor's niece (whose dad is also an elder), thinking she was new to the church, and I wanted to make her feel welcome. Imagine my embarrassment when I realized who she was! And it was entirely because I had never spoken with her because she too quiet for me to hear easily.
Honestly, I wish everyone knew ASL. But I really wish my friends and family knew it. I miss so much of their lives and of what's important to them, simply because I miss what they're saying.
If someone learned ASL for me, I think I'd cry. You have no idea how much I want that.
No comments:
Post a Comment