Alone in the Mainstream: A Deaf Woman Remembers Public School

6. Social Life in Adulthood: The Oasis

100 I have often marveled at how, in spite of obvious or subtle messages from family and society to the contrary, numerous solitaires decide in adulthood that they have a good deal to gain from association with other deaf and hard of hearing people and with hearing people who use sign language. They see that their lives are greatly enriched by involvement in clubs, sports groups, monthly dinner get-togethers, and many leisure activities where communication and understanding are relatively easy because everyone uses a visual language. They are excited, gratified, and often relieved to be involved with signing deaf, hard of hearing, and hearing persons, because there is no need to constantly explain their hearing loss, constantly strain to lipread, or constantly worry about access issues. They have found their “oasis,” so to speak. In an address to the 1877 meeting of the Empire State Association of the deaf, Henry Rider, a leader of New York’s nineteenth-century Deaf community , gave the following reason for deaf people’s frequent gatherings: “[They are], to us, what the oases of the great Desert are to famishing travelers.”1 When I first arrived at Gallaudet at the age of twenty and discovered that I did not always have to make a huge effort to follow conversations, I couldn’t see how I could ever return to my “old life” as a “hard of hearing person in a hearing world.” For as long as I could remember, I had simply hated that aspect Social Life in Adulthood: The Oasis 6 of my life. I hated not being able to participate in group conversations. I hated that my friendships depended so much on others’ ability to speak clearly enough that I could lipread them. My friends, bless their hearts, were wonderful. They were the best friends I could have had, considering the circumstances . When I was growing up, however, I wished I could participate fully in a wider variety of social activities with these friends as well as with more acquaintances. Instead, my satisfying interactions with friends were limited to one-on-one conversations in our respective homes or college dorm rooms. I wanted more casual friends but basically I had none. If a fellow student didn’t know me really well from lots of one-on-one conversations , he or she didn’t know me at all. At Gallaudet, I began the long process of fitting myself into the deaf world and refitting myself into the “hearing world” beyond Gallaudet’s boundaries. I had lived in that the hearing world all my life, but was not satis fied with how I fit. I wanted a better, new way of fitting. This process of finding my place in the deaf world and readjusting to the hearing world has lasted for thirty years so far. When the first germinations of this book were sprouting in the Gallaudet bookstore and library, I realized that I had gone through a number of transitions since arriving at Gallaudet. I had gone from viewing myself as a hard of hearing person in a hearing world to viewing myself as a deaf person who grew up in the solitary mainstream, who now chooses how much time to spend with signers and how much time to spend with nonsigners. Over the years, I have moved through several communities in which a good number of deaf, hard of hearing, and hearing people use sign language as well as spoken language. I have also been involved with some hearing communities where I have been “the only one.” In those communities , my deafness and the resulting communication issues always play a role in defining where and how I fit. I have also met deaf and hard of hearing people who have chosen to remain as solitaires. They seem to prefer maintaining their status as the only deaf or hard of hearing person in their world. They claim to see no benefit in learning sign language or associating with other deaf or hard of hearing people. Sometimes they might have one or two oral deaf friends but for the most part they have chosen to spend their leisure time as adults Social Life in Adulthood 101 predominantly or exclusively with hearing people.2 Although I cannot fathom such a choice for myself, I feel an affinity with it because my father lived that way for the duration...