Unbeknownst to many people, September was Deaf Awareness Month. For 600,000 people, this month is for celebration and educating people on what it means to be deaf. We think of deafness as an unfortunate loss of hearing but it is so much more than that. Deafness is a culture, a language and a lifetime of defying the odds and I am proud to be a part of it. I want to bring awareness to this superpower by telling my not-so-normal story. But what is normal these days?
I was born on December 17th, 2000 as perfectly healthy baby, except for asthma, eczema and allergies. I always knew I was deaf, even then, but I did not have the words to communicate it just yet. And it wasn’t until I was two years old that my mother noticed I never put the phone to my left ear. So we went to the doctor and found out that I was born deaf with sensorineural hearing loss in one ear. Which meant that I had all the parts needed to hear, but they had never worked like they are supposed to. That is considered “not normal” because many children were either born completely deaf or became deaf because of an illness. So I seemed to be a medical mystery, which was not as fun as I thought it was going to be.
The next few years of my life were not the happiest because people started to treat me differently. I was getting hearing tests often and doctors were telling me that I would need assistance for the rest of my life. All I wanted to do was be a stereotypical child with a normal childhood. I protested against getting a hearing aid because I was determined to not have assistance. On day, while I was walking to the school bus, my life changed because I almost got hit by a car. It was early in the morning and I remember that morning being cold, all I wanted to do was get on the bus to warm up. It was like I had tunnel vision because as soon as I stepped onto the street, all I could see was the bus. Even the screaming from other parents and my brother could not stop me from getting on that bus. If the driver had not stopped backing up, I would have been pinned between two cars. I was not aware of how altered my senses were because I had never been on my own. However, I was getting older and I was beginning to be on my own more often, which meant things had to change. So, I finally gave in to accepting my need for assistance and another round of battles began.
The insurance company refused to approve my surgery for a cochlear implant three times. They made up excuses claiming that I wasn’t eligible because I had one ear that still worked, or that my ear needed to be deformed for me to be eligible for the surgery. I did not meet their qualifications until I was in the fourth grade, when their regulations changed and I was finally approved for the surgery. The surgeon had to drill into the side of my skull to place the implant and the attachment part that stuck out. I spent many of the days after the surgery sleeping because the pain was too much to bear. A few weeks after the surgery, I developed migraines that lasted days on end and I was told that I would have them for the rest of my life. In 8th grade it was time for another surgery. My implant needed to be upgraded to a new magnet that made for easier attachment. This surgery was less invasive and less painful than the first one. Plus, I was one of the first people in Virginia to get these surgeries, which helped other children be approved for them too!Â
I spent 20 years of my life figuring out that this disability was an attainment and not a loss. It became my superpower as it built me up to be a strong woman that can defeat any problem that I face. I’m now a college student, an achievement that I have dreamt about since I was a little girl. Deaf awareness impacts millions of people worldwide, some with stories like mine and some worse, which is why it deserves more awareness and recognition. Like anyone else with a disability, we have to work twice as hard to prove ourselves in a world that often does not accept differences.
Deafness is not a weakness, nor is it our entire identity, it is an amazing strength that we embrace.