Meet Deaf Wow: Cultural Exposure to the Deaf Community

My moment of MEET DEAF WOW occurred when I was 11 years old and about to go off to summer camp for d/Deaf children in the mountains of Utah.

It was my first time away from the family for an extended period of time. Despite attending a mainstream program for Deaf and Hard of Hearing students from preschool to halfway through third grade, I'd been mainstreamed long enough as a 'single Deaf kid in the mainstream' for the better part of three years. By 11 years old, the majority of my exposure to other Deaf individuals were among those who were the fence-straddlers in the mainstream. This would be my first time among a large group of culturally Deaf individuals from a variety of backgrounds and experiences.


Once my parents and I arrived at the camp, we entered the lodge to register. Stepping in, I was hit by the blast by the sight of hands waving around in differing states of urgency. All around me, individuals of all sizes and shapes where communicating to each other via hands. I'd grew up with SEE - Signing Exact English - thus I had access to sign. But they - they weren't using SEE, but rather, the purer form of ASL - American Sign Language.

Intimidated by the flying hands, I shuffled behind my mother and peeked out at those strangers with a sense of trepidation. Throughout the registration process, the staff would sign to me. Out of habit, I would acknowledge them, and let my eyes dart to Mom for interpretation. Old habits are hard to break - all my life, Mom was the designated family interpreter and I'd come to use her as a crutch, even when interacting with people who signed fluently. She would then indicate to me that they were in fact talking to me, and not her and suggest that I respond. This continued through every station in the registration process.

With registration complete, we met with my counselor and she led us to the cabin where I'd be staying in and dropped off my bags. My parents signed with the counselor (who code-switched to match their level of English signs without making it obvious), and I furtively glanced around me at the other campers and staff doing the same thing.

Back at the lodge, my parents did with the usual farewell words and hugs. When I realized that they were in fact leaving and that I'd be alone, I grabbed onto her and pleaded them not to go. "I can't stay here!"

"Why? You will have so much fun - "

I made a sweeping point at the people around us. "They - they're deaf!"

My mother took a moment to let it sink in. Then she leaned over and furtively whispered "Let me see your cochlear implant."

Puzzled, I asked her why.

"Oh - I just want to check it, to make sure it's working and all."

Shrugging, I took the body-worn harness and headset off and palmed it off to her.

She wrapped the harness straps and the cord around the body-worn unit. Pocketing it in her purse, she exclaimed, "You say they're Deaf? Well, so are you! You're Deaf now - same as them!" With that, she and Dad swept out and left me gaping at the connection.

Mom was right. I was Deaf, just like everyone inside the lodge. Well, almost everybody - there were some CODAs (Child of Deaf Adults) and a smattering of hearing siblings and some NERDAs (Not Even Related to Deaf Adults) among the mix, but everyone signed. She also knew I would be fine making the switch from SEE to ASL - it was a matter of fact of dropping the initialized signs and rearranging the grammar and syntax of signed phrases. Without realizing it, I was savvy at code-switching my level of signing to that of whoever I was interacting with - something I'd picked up from my years in the mainstream program with other Deaf and Hard of Hearing students of varying language backgrounds.

In other words, I would be fine. I would survive that week - and come back for six more summers. Going to summer camp became the highlight of my year, as much as it would be for Harry returning to Hogwarts after a summer spent at the Dursleys'.

Whenever I share this anecdote, I would receive mixed results. During the farewell speech at the Miss Deaf Minnesota Ambassador program, the audience howled with laughter and congratulated my mother for being supportive and conscientious to my cultural and linguistic needs. Other times, when I would share this story with a fellow CI user, they would exclaim in horror - how could my mother deprive me of hearing like that? What about communication access? Safety?

Nevertheless, I'm grateful that my mother gave me that opportunity to discover myself.