Deaf History and Culture in Spain: A Reader of Primary Documents

PART III: The Contemporary Deaf Experience

PART III ! THE CONTEMPORARY DEAF EXPERIENCE 161 Isle of Silence (1978) Inés Polo Merino Introduction The reader should not think that I have been searching far and wide to get the necessary information before sitting down to write these pages. In reality, I have never read a book that applied psychology or pedagogy to the world of deaf people, either children or adults. I have avoided reading them, so that they would not taint my manner of viewing and focusing on the problems of the silent world, so that my information might be of more value as a testimonial. Regarding each problem, in each case, I limit myself to explaining the fruit of my experiences, my personal contacts, my conversations, my encounters. . . . These have not been occasions sought out on purpose. I have stumbled upon them, and thus I explain them as I have lived them, simply and spontaneously. My opinions will be more or less correct (opinions that I do not intend to impose, only to expose), but, nevertheless, they possess the authenticity of coming from someone who lives in that silent world, with all of its problems and difficulties. It is my own experience, above all else, that I recount. And I do this with the sincere desire that it may serve as a guide to parents and educators, leading to a better awareness of all of our problems. I truly do not think that enough will ever be written on this subject. If one day, a parent or professor recognizes that my humble work has served as a guide in his or her arduous labor, these pages will have accomplished the objective for which they were written. And I should express also that what follows is not, nor should it pretend to be, an irresponsible denunciation, but rather a description of the reality of the world of deaf people, directed to parents and educators so that they might come to know it and therefore be able to work with it better, offering more effective help to the deaf child and adult as a result. On Being Deaf To be deaf is to live isolated from sounds, voices, and music. It is to live on a silent island, where the whirring of machines, the clamor of the storm, and everyday noises arrive in only a vague and distant way. Inés Polo Merino. Isla de silencio (Barcelona: Imprenta del CopiArt-Villarroel, 1978). 162 DEAF HISTORY AND CULTURE IN SPAIN To be deaf is to be in a place where there are many people, and yet, to feel alone, isolated. To be deaf is to laugh in a group, because everyone laughs, without knowing why. To be deaf is to spend half an hour looking for a coin, that small object you dropped, and not to be able to see where it fell because you did not hear the noise made by its falling. To be deaf is to lose a grocery item one day when you are carrying too much and not to realize that you have lost it until arriving home. To be deaf is to close the door on a child’s hand and not even know it. To be deaf is to speak softly when you should be speaking loudly and to talk loudly when you should be more quiet. To be deaf is to feel as an outsider in a society that has not taken your lack of hearing into account when creating its theaters, its cinemas, its cultural or recreational centers, or—until quite recently—when developing its television programming. To be deaf is to close your eyes and be able to completely extract yourself from your surroundings. To be deaf is to concentrate on your reading to such an extent that you come to live what you are reading. And also to relive the happy or painful memory in which you submerge yourself. To be deaf is to depend on everybody a little, to need everyone. . . . On How I Entered the Silent Island I was a child of Andalusian emigrants who, like so many other children of my land, had to abandon Andalucía in search of a means of subsistence. Three months after arriving, my father got work in a factory. We were living with an aunt and uncle, while our “chabola”1 was being constructed on a plot that we managed to buy. When I turned...