This is “Eleven Things You Should Know About Deaf People.”
One:
“You know, sometimes I totally forget you're deaf.”
I get it.
I walk out onstage,
My voice sounds like yours.
My hearing aids are only crew members, working furiously,
But hidden backstage behind a curtain of hair.
I'm so good at acting like I'm hearing
That you don't even remember
You are watching a play
Two:
Yes, deaf people can drive!
Strangely enough,
The ability to push pedals and steer wheels with your hands
Is not in any way connected to your ability to hear.
Three:
Steering wheels are not the only things our hands turn,
We turn our hands into stories
You can only begin to understand.
Stories heard by the ones who can't hear.
Four:
No, I don't need you to talk like this.
I don't need you to be a megaphone;
I need you to paint yourself on a canvas.
Five:
I'm staring deep into your eyes
And tracing every curl of your lips because
No, I don't want you to kiss me!
But because this is the only way I could possibly carry on a conversation,
Searching for your words in your eyes
And your tone on your lips.
Six:
I am having a conversation with Blake.
We're dribbling back and forth,
Andrew wants to play,
Blythe throws in a comment from the side,
Sierra picks up the ball,
Pa**es it to Quinn.
All of a sudden I'm on court with the Bulls,
Words flying like balls,
Trying to keep up with it all!
Everyone starts laughing;
I laugh so they don't kick me off the team.
I wanna play,
But their laughter shrinks me to the sidelines,
And as I watch the game unfold,
I wonder how I became a spectator in a sport I used to own.
Seven:
Cafeterias seem to get louder and louder,
A cacophony of campers calling across tables.
Instead of asking to repeat, repeat, repeat,
Repeat-repeat-repeat-repeat-repeat…!
I prefer the silence of solitude,
Because at least I can always understand myself.
Eight:
Someone tells me,
“You're so lucky you can speak.
You'll be so much more successful than those other deaf people
Who can only, you know, do the hand thing?”
First of all,
Success is not contingent on the ability to verbalize
Whatever ignorant garbage is churning in your mouth.
And second of all...
[holds up middle finger]
I didn't even need to say it out loud for you to understand me.
Nine:
I tell someone I'm deaf.
She says, “I am so sorry.”
I don't want your pity,
But when I ask you what you said
Don't tell me “Nevermind.”
Don't cast me to the side,
Because I'm not broken,
And I don't need to be fixed.
Ten:
“You know, sometimes I forget you're deaf.”
I get it.
You forget.
You forget.
You forget, you forget, you forget, you forget, forget-forget-forget-forget.
Eleven:
NO! I'm Deaf, proud and loud.
Can you hear me now?