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 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 never 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 rapidly 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 hear.

Sincerely in CHRIST,

Kiwi

Pre-Christmas Baking and Cleaning

Hallo all! I've been terribly busy this past year. I've been taking ASL, and been working as a substitute teacher, and been also keeping house, drawing, and learning to read sheet music on the piano. YAY!

Today is baking day. It's when I pack tons of cookie baking into one day right before Christmas. I think I've made about 6-7 dozen sugar cookies (can't tell exactly how many, since I've definitely been enjoying my cookies), right now in the middle of trying to make a few dozen more chocolate chip cookies, and after that, I still have to make some gingerbread cookie dough to put in the fridge for baking tomorrow. HOY VEY! BUT! Unlike most baking days, I've yet to burn anything, besides slightly singeing my fingers in our silicon potholders. Nothing serious, mind you, but definitely not something I desire to repeat. (I kinda wish I had some fun Christmas cookie cutters...I only have boring stars that leave the cookies in an all-too-easily burned shape.)


Yesterday was kitchen cleaning day, where I basically turned the kitchen upside down, cleaning behind everything, rearranging everything on the counters, jarring up different bulk things we'd gotten from the store, and basically trying to get everything ready for baking today. Before I rearranged yesterday, I barely had any room to roll out pie crusts or cookie dough.

Oh, correction: Cookie sheet:1; Kiwi: 0. I now have a really shiny line on one of my fingers... I wonder what that'll look like in a few days. It reminds me of last Christmas.

Last Christmas, we had some family friends over, sort of adopted family members, really. Very close friends. I'd put some hot water on to boil and was just pulling it off the burner but made the mistake of taking off the lid of the tea kettle before lifting it. Now, I don't know about you guys, but I learned when I was a little kid that water that goes above 212F (100C) becomes steam...very HOT steam. The next thing my family and friends heard was a tea kettle hitting the floor. The asked what was wrong, and I said I'd burned myself a little. I actually got scolded by one of the boys for not making enough noise when I'd burned myself. It still makes me laugh to this day. Apparently, I need to complain more when I've been hurt instead of calmly relating the facts to people as though I were merely mentioning the time of day. "Oh, I've gone and burnt myself."

Hmmm, I wonder what would have been a better way to say it. Maybe next time I need to shriek and run around the kitchen waving a potholder, and go bouncing up and down like I'd seen a rat. No, wait, that's how I dance to the bouncy part of the moonlight sonata. That would just seem to normal for me. How do you be loud about being hurt, when it's actually quite common for you to be loud? Wouldn't that just seem the norm? But if I'm quiet, it generally means there's something serious going on. Hmmm. Maybe I'm a bit backwards. What do you guys think? What should I do next time I burn or hurt myself while cooking or baking?