Random Thoughts and Musings by moi

Musings by a feisty, opinionated Deaf gal who wants nothing but the best for her community and her people

samedi 19 juin 2010

Colonialism In Action

I'm watching the first season of The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, a TV series from HBO, on DVD this week. It is a heartwarming, sweet series and I'm thoroughly enjoying it. It has a neat premise and I'm enjoying the glimpse of life in Botswana it affords me. But as I watch, it becomes more and more obvious to me that I'm seeing a country (and TV series) soaked in colonialism, even though Botswana has been independent of Britain since 1966. What's more, Botswana was a British colony for only 80 years! So for the effects of colonialism to be as entrenched as they are in Botswana is startling and speaks volumes about how damaging colonization was, and still is, to whole cultures and peoples.

Immediately apparent effects of colonialism include the buildings, clothes, and devices/machines. The buildings mostly look like buildings you would find in America, including one posh modern hotel and a series of 1920s and 1930s-vintage buildings, as well as a smattering of houses in a variety of styles. The clothes include a lot of lovely batik prints, but the styles and cuts are very distinctly modern Western Civilization. The people, except for their fascinating and distinctive African features, look like people we would see in America. There are cars, fake nails, computers, roads, telephones (along with the attendant Yellow Pages and answering machines), and more. There are border patrols and passports are a necessity. In other words, other than the lush African landscape, this place looks much like a small town in America. I found that sad and startling.

Other effects of colonialism are subtler and more insidious. One thing that immediately struck me was how almost everyone speaks English. There is a very distinct African (Botswanan?) accent and there are a few words that they say differently, including Sir and Ma'am Rra and Mma, a greeting Dumela, and yes and no ee and nnyaa. But otherwise, it is very much English. The names were very surprising to me. The surnames are unmistakably African, including Ramostwe, Makutsi, Tsola, Bapesti, and so on. But the first names are unmistakably English, such as Grace, Lucien, Oswald, Alice, Michael, et cetera. That's amazing to me that they are choosing names that are not their ancestral names, instead opting for names preferred in a country that took over theirs. In the fourth episode, there is a scene where the detective meets with a witness, but the witness speaks the native language so his granddaughter translates between English and the native language. This drives home the point that most Botswanans (called Batswana) do not know their native language! Linguists know that language has a symbiotic relationship with culture, neither able to exist without the other. Language also shapes thought. Therefore it is possible to conclude that Batswana have altered their culture and thought patterns from the old days to something more British. Wow.

Let's examine the educational system there. There are colleges, training schools, and universities. The secretary, Mma Makutsi, graduated from secretarial college. One case involved interviewing people at the local university. The concept of formal schooling that spawns schools, universities, and colleges is very much European, not African. Interesting. Schools are where citizens and subjects are indoctrinated with the knowledge, skills, and values that a successful member of their society is expected to have upon completion of formal schooling. Draw your own conclusions from this.

There was one intriguing episode where an Indian (as in India) business owner appeared - and he was the first non-native person I'd seen up to date. He looked white from a distance then when the camera panned in, I realized he was actually Indian. He had all the bells and whistles, including a closed circuit TV system and a fancy alarm system that nobody else had. He, during the episode, got a satellite navigation system for his car. When the mechanic tried to explain how important it is not to leave the system in his car because it'd be stolen in no time flat, he pooh-poohed the advice. His attitude toward everyone else was very patronizing and condescending. It's ironic, considering that India was a British colony for far longer than Botswana. But this represents the current ideal in many cultures of the lighter-skinned you are, the better off you are, thanks to centuries of European colonization.

Colonists succeed by forcing natives to speak the colonizing language rather than their own, by forcing their educational system on the natives, and by recreating their ways of life in the colony. They also train natives to become professionals, thus ensuring the cycle of oppression continues and will continue, even when the colonizing forces have departed. This has clearly happened in Botswana.

This said, there were heartwarming glimpses of the native culture still present. The kindness, openness, and love of the Batswana are clear throughout the series. The accent and words are vestiges of what once was spoken all over the country. Mma Ramostwe, the protagonist, seems to represent a subaltern, in my view, because she frequently stands up for what is traditionally African. At one point she talks about the African heart, which holds that if one wrongs another and he or she is truly sorry for what has transpired, the wronged will try to forgive the transgressor. In every colonized culture, there have been individuals and groups who have actively resisted colonialism and reminded their peers of their indigenous values, language, and traditions. I believe she represents that here.

This all seems awfully familiar to me. Does it to you?

More on Support Issues

This is a follow-up to two separate posts, the one I posted last night and the one about Eben Kostbar playing Matt Hamill in a movie. First, two years makes a difference. The movie, Hamill, is now in post-production and it stars a Deaf actor, Russell Harvard. I do not know what happened in the intervening period to make Hamill and Kostbar truly hear the community. But we were heard. Kostbar gave up a plum role and let it go where it rightly belongs - to a Deaf person. Major handwaves and kudos go to them for being willing to reverse a stance that previously appeared as immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar.

In my post written two years ago, I talked about not vilifying Hamill for his decision to allow Kostbar, a hearing person, to portray him and how we needed to support him as a Deaf person while letting him know his decision was wrong. This is one of my most cherished principles - supporting our people while collectively steering them in a positive direction. (not groupthink!) I'm hoping that's what happened and that's what led to a positive outcome in this situation. Again, kudos to Hamill and Kostbar!

Speaking of support and Matt Hamill, I respect his right to choose his profession. But I naturally reserve the right to find UFC/MMA nauseating and a symptom of what is wrong with our society. It glorifies no-holds-barred violence and desensitizes us to brutality. I cannot, in good conscience, approve of the whole schmeer. I get upset when I hear of schools inviting Hamill to speak to students and when they show an interview with Hamill on DVD/online. Doing so gives a stamp of approval upon a tawdry spectacle of blood and cruelty. What impact does this have on young schoolchildren? I shudder.

I've expressed this opinion before and gotten many variations upon the idea that "But he's Deaf! We gotta support him!" Even people who don't like UFC are forcing themselves to watch it all in the name of supporting a Deaf person. I can't help but ask why they feel the need to do that.

I had an interesting conversation with someone recently where someone expressed disgust with UFC and I chimed in, agreeing. The response from a third person? The gist was that if not for UFC, Russell Harvard and Shoshannah Stern wouldn't have such plum roles in a feature film. I could not believe my eyes. Does one wrong plus a prime opportunity make a right? I don't think so. After all, if Il Duce were Deaf, would that have excused the rise of fascism in Italy in the 1920s through part of World War II? Do opportunities for Deaf people excuse all ills? If not, where is the line?

My personal answer to where the line is is guided by my principles. In this situation, the principles involved are as follows: I abhor unnecesary violence, therefore, I'm not going to overtly support Hamill by watching his fights. I'm going to speak up if I find that the educational institution in my area invites him to speak or show his interview. Yet I respect his right to choose his profession and I will honor that. I will not single him out if and when I criticize UFC/MMA.

I personally strongly believe in supporting my fellow Deaf people and have attended functions, taken actions, and become involved with things that I would not have if not for my belief that we need to support each other. So that is not an issue here. But I will not betray my principles. Period.

I become frustrated with this sheep-like attitude of "Deaf equals must support, no matter what." Critical thinking is our friend, not our enemy. Let's actively support our Deaf brethren and sistren, while keeping our principles in mind.

To What Extent? Where is the Happy Middle?

My mind is just jumping around here and there, with several thoughts percolating, each vying for domination... yet remaining half-formed. It's frustrating because I want to develop each of them and do a post worthy of each thought. Some are very positive and affirming, while others may seem more like I'm sitting here with my arms folded and chin jutting out (even though that's *far* from the case.) There is one thought that seems more formed than the others, so here goes...

A friend and I were talking earlier this week about how important it is to support each other, but is there a line to how far we should go to support each other? The particular example we were examining was politics. For example, what if a Deaf person runs for public office but their ideas are not going to better the Deaf community as a whole? Do-do? Some would say, "NO MATTER. SUPPORT-SUPPORT MUST." Others would say waitaminit and speak out, saying the candidate's stance is unacceptable for an elected representative. After some discussion, the best solutions we came up with were: 1. to be proactive and prepare our own people then support their campaign and 2. if we are caught off guard, to go ahead and try to work with them to get them to see reason then support their campaign. Both are positive, while remaining true to one's set of principles.

That whole discussion was a good one, and it got me thinking about various other things. I recently attended this Deaf performance, and um, I was *not* impressed. There was this one poignant moment and there were glimmers of brilliance here and there. But on the whole, it was a major yawn in my opinion. Some of it was same old, same old and overall I was left with the impression of this very self-absorbed person reliving moments that perhaps did not need to be relived. I had several quibbles with the ASL rendition, including the fact that spatial rules were ignored. One character in one monologue had been set up to be on the signer's left and another on the signer's right. Within a minute they had switched places with no logical reason for that happening, which is a *major* linguistic transgression. This happened several times throughout the show. I looked around me a few times to see if I was the only one feeling lukewarm about the whole thing. There were a lot of smiles and a few chuckles. There was no one rolling their eyes. I may or may not have been alone in my assessment of the exhibition, but I appeared to be firmly in the minority. No matter. I stand firm in my opinion. Truth be told, I would have a lot of fun writing a review panning the performance. But what good would that do? I think it'd do more harm than good. Yet I believe just applauding and saying, "Oh, it was fabulous!" over and over would not do any good either. It'd be dishonest. I was fortunate in that the people I was chatting with afterward did not discuss the gig, so I didn't have to make a decision about how to convey my thoughts right then. Upon reflection, the best way of putting it isn't apparent, even though the principle is: how to be honest, while recognizing the good parts of the whole thing. *shrug*

I am also keenly disappointed right now at one organization. In my (and many other's) view, they are in sore need of a direction change. They have a golden opportunity to do that and the time is *ripe*. However, they recently announced a decision that seems to indicate they are not interested in charting a new course. Instead, they want to do what they've been doing for way too long. In fact, based on info from a reliable source, they actively went out of their way to keep the status quo. I'm now left wondering what to do about it. I'm stunned, disappointed, and disheartened. I found out about this not too long ago, so I'm still processing this. I am, however, very clear on where I stand: They are wrong. My goal is to lovingly let them know and to urge them to change course without destroying them with vitriol born out of frustration. How? Ay, there's the rub.

All in all, the two extremes of "Shut up and just support our people" and "Time to go on the warpath!" are not acceptable in most instances. The goal needs to be constructive feedback, given with caring and loving support. Easier said than done, y'know. There are times when gentle, constructive feedback given in private is the kindest, most thoughtful thing we can do. There are others when a major jolt is just the ticket, such as the 2006 Gallaudet Protest. There are still others when something in between is most appropriate. The challenge is knowing when to do what, while remaining true to your principles and trying not to hurt people unnecessarily. I may fail at times, but it's not for lack of trying and caring about the outcome. After all, I love my community and I want nothing but the very best for it and for everyone in it.

dimanche 6 juin 2010

Yes, Deaf People Understand Sound!

This is something I've been thinking about for a long time. I had the good fortune to see Ben Bahan speak on the topic before Open Your Eyes came out. This is at the crux of why we Deaf people are fine and why so many hearing people seem terrified at the prospect of not hearing. Western civilization, ever since Aristotle proclaimed that speech equals language (and probably before that!), has had this irrational fear of not hearing. Even Helen Keller declared that she'd rather be blind than deaf. This is what we've had to fight against for thousands of years. I wish with all my heart that hearing people would understand that being Deaf is not a death sentence.

The main thrust of Dr. Bahan's article in Open Your Eyes is that Deaf people indeed experience sound. It's just not in the way that we've been trained to believe is de rigueur. When I watched him expound upon this, I was transfixed, fighting my jaw's attempts to drop. I thought back to so many things that are so part of everyday life for me - how I love feeling cats purring, how I'm very aware of what's going on because hearing people's heads turn toward a sound, how I experience music, and much more. His thesis is that we experience sound by sight and feel - and we share that information with others. Have you ever wondered how two Deaf people chatting while walking manage not to walk into poles and other hazards 99.5% of the time? It's because of our highly-developed peripheral vision *and* we warn each other - thus giving us a field of vision of 360° during the time we are walking and chatting. The dude is RIGHT.

One of my favorite stories that illustrates this is how I learned to drive a manual transmission. I learned from a Deaf person, and her emphasis was on feel. She encouraged me to drive with my feet off so I could feel the car better. I remember slowly releasing the clutch and feeling the engine spring to life. She stopped me and said, "That is the instant when you need to start depressing the gas pedal. Release the clutch while pressing down on the gas until you feel that the engine is fully alive then go." It took me a fair bit of practice, just like it takes any other person, but I now own a classic car and I love driving a stick. When I bought my classic car, I had two people sit with me while I drove it for a bit to make sure I wasn't going to damage it by driving badly. One was Deaf and before we got in the car, he suggested a tachometer to help me ensure that I was keeping the car in the right gear - which I've seen can be helpful in newer cars. But after we got back, he said he didn't see a problem with my knowing when to shift. The other person was hearing and she said my driving seemed perfect to her... then she asked me how I do it since I'm not hearing the clicks. I explained that I feel the car and it tells me when to shift (and demonstrated). I've had hearing people ask me how I drive a stick, so the idea that you have to hear to drive a stick is really pervasive. They cannot conceive of any other way, which fascinates, yet saddens me because of how limited their worldview is.

I do have another car story - when I was in high school or college, my mom was driving and I suddenly felt this awful SQUEEEEE. I told her to drive the car right in to the shop. She asked why and I told her I'm feeling something awful. Something isn't right. She shook her head and said, "But I don't hear anything wrong. Everything sounds fine." I insisted, and with much reluctance, she shrugged and we took the car in. The guy had to ask me all kinds of questions to identify what it was. Not being a car person, I struggled to explain it (and it didn't help that he kept asking me questions emphasizing sound), but between the two of us, he managed to suggest that maybe it was the brakes. Well, later that day, Mom got a phone call saying the right front brake pad was just about shot and could've caused real problems if the car hadn't gone in when it did. Oh, I was smug for a bit, crowing, "And you kept saying you didn't hear anything wrong!" Since then I've caught car problems by feel. I've never had a car problem escalate just because I don't hear that something is amiss.

I know one teacher whose students are convinced she's hearing or has a lot of hearing because she's able to crack down on yelling without hearing it. She does it by noticing facial expressions, open mouths, and annoyed looks on other students' faces. I also know a friend who gauges whether or not to dash to catch a train based on whether other people are running or not. Many of us know when someone is using their voice and signing without hearing their voices because their faces and signs look different when they use their voice. It's a lot more obvious than many hearing people would like to believe, I think. There are so many examples of how we are aware of sound, both by sight and feel, it would require a book to list them all.

I remember when I discussed the first century of formal Deaf education here in America with my students. They were absolutely flabbergasted to learn that the New York School for the Deaf (Fanwood) had a marching drill band, competed with hearing school bands, and won several trophies, placing first. I asked them why they were surprised. I got the expected responses of, "They're Deaf!" "Music?? How??" and so on in that vein. I paused, then asked them, "Who here has NO idea of what a cat's meow is?" A few astute students either got what I was driving at or knew I was going to make a point, smiled, and didn't raise their hands, while everyone else did. I then said, "So you've never seen a cat meow?" They, exasperated, were quick to assure me they had. "Oh, so you DO know what a cat's meow is like? You can identify it when you see it?" That led to an amazing discussion of how you can identify different meows just by looking at the cat's body language, facial expression, and how big the meow is - coming from the students! I then asked them how they could select a good watermelon. One student gave a very detailed description of how to hold a watermelon, thump it, and how underripe melons feel, how overripe melons feel, and how just-right melons feel. I couldn't resist asking them what type of teacher tends to catch them chewing gum in violation of school rules, and the unanimous answer was, "Deaf teachers!" Of course I asked them why they thought that was and they hypothesized that Deaf teachers have more visual acuity. In between each situation, I emphasized the idea that they do understand sound, it's just that their experience with sound is different from most people's. I then asked them to raise their hands if they like music. Everyone did. I looked puzzled, and said, "But you're DEAF! HOW???" They rushed to explain that they feel the music, either in their bodies or by feeling the vibrations in the floor go up their legs and through their bodies or by feeling something vibrating from the music with their hands. "Oh? Then how do you think they won those trophies?" They brainstormed ideas such as memorizing the number of beats, by feeling, by sight/visual cues, and so forth. I think they're right. That's exactly how the Fanwood students earned those trophies. They, contrary to popular assumption, didn't need to hear the music.

I now submit this to you, the Teeming Millions: Hearing is completely overrated.


I know some of you are going to nod your heads with complete understanding and agreement, while others of you are dumbfounded, turning this concept over in your heads. Take your time. I know this is a major paradigm shift for some of you and I thank you for being open to this. *smile* Still others of you are going to be quick to jump down my throat, saying I don't understand or I'm a handicapped person that has found coping mechanisms to deal with my disability. I beg to differ. I have enough hearing to benefit from it - unaided. I have known I didn't need to rush to catch the subway train because if it were arriving, I would've heard it. I've trained my students not to yell for my attention because I will not look at them, but I will sign, "If you want my attention, you are to raise your hand. I ignore yelling." I've jumped because of a loud noise in another room. Sound is part of my life because I don't have a choice. It comes in through my ears without any encouragement on my part. I mention this only to illustrate that I have experience with hearing and I recognize that it is a different sense that offers advantages - and disavantages! - not found with seeing and feeling. It's just not the sense that I get the vast majority of my information from, nor is it my preferred sense. Therefore my premise is not based on a series of coping mechanisms, nor a way to assert pride in a disability/deficiency. Rather, my assertion is based on the paradigm that sound is not the be-all and end-all of human experience. Take that in your pipe and smoke it, Auditory-Industrial Complex Behemoth!

mercredi 2 juin 2010

If It Ain't Broke, FIX IT!

I have had an epiphany.

The auditory-industrial complex WANTS us to be broken hearing people. The last thing they want to happen is to have us be whole, complete, organic, and natural Deaf people. They thrive on breaking us and keeping us broken.

Overreacting, you say? Really? Then how do you explain the current push to codify audiologists as the first point of contact in the entire state of California? There's much ado about nothing, you say? You don't say? Then why is the list of supporters for AB 2072 so suspiciously rife with members of the auditory-industrial complex who stand to profit off the backs of Deaf children and their parents? Why do so many teacher training programs for the Deaf only mention ASL/English bilingual instruction in passing or not at all? I could go on and on here, but I'd be getting off what I really want to talk about tonight. I'll just reiterate that there is a lot of money to be made off Deaf babies and children, and keeping us broken and oppressed is incredibly lucrative. I do hope to go into depth on that another time - this topic deserves more time than it's getting tonight.

One unfortunate result of the auditory-industrial complex keeping us Deaf people figuratively pregnant, barefoot, and in the kitchen is "playing hearing," which Richard Horrell-Schmitz poignantly describes his own experiences here. This moving piece struck so many chords (insert rueful acknowledgement of the irony of my phrasing here) with me, and apparently with many others, based on what people are saying on Facebook.

How many of us have felt like a broken hearing person at least once in our lives? How many of us have felt deficient and defective because we do not experience sound in the same way most of the world does? A show of hands, please. Yup. All of us have been there, haven't we? I know I have. But we aren't broken. Not at all. We are a perfectly valid variation of the human experience and we have wonderful gifts to share with the world... if only they would let us. But thanks to the massive auditory-industrial juggernaut, we've all been force-fed media messages that to hear is the be-all and the end-all of existence and we've grown up in educational systems that reinforce that message in a variety of ways to varying degrees. We've been trained to believe that the closer to hearing we appear to be, the better off we are.

I didn't lose my hearing like Richard did, so I've never been trying to recapture what I once had. But I have tried to capture what I believed I should have and to try and fix myself. I've taken over interactions and started interpreting for other Deaf people when they didn't understand what a hearing person was saying. I've reveled in my English skills and clucked at those who have poor English. I've done everything possible to mold myself into the so-called norm. As I look back on all these things, I cringe. I then forgive myself because it is part of my journey toward being a self-actualized, healthy, whole Deaf person... then I cringe some more.

As I look back, I cannot help but be astounded at how by being more Deaf in my interactions with hearing people, how much more respect I get and how the playing field has been leveled. Instead of my letting them know I'm Deaf and metaphorically holding my hands up in supplication, I just go about my business and expect that all will be fine. I sign to hearing people now when I need to interact with them, with a friendly smile, but unwaveringly sending the message, "I'm Deaf. I'm here. Deal with it." Recently I went to a farmer's market with a friend who was in town for a short visit. A vendor was offering free samples of this omgtastic pecan pie and I signed, "Yes, please" and "Thank you." My friend was pointing in the manner many of us Deafies do when we began this exchange. The bakery lady then asked, "Would you like to try the blueberry?" I perked up and signed, "Yes! I'd love to!" with a smile. She smiled back, nodded, and said, "Okay." I then asked her, signing, how much the pecan pie was and she told me. This is with a hearing non-signer. I kept this up during the entire trip and I noticed my friend started signing to the vendors too. I'll have to ask him what made him change his approach, now that I think about it. We didn't discuss it at all - I just went about my business, doing what has become second nature. I've found that this approach really equalizes the playing field with non-signers. I'm being myself. They're being themselves. We're meeting in the middle as two individuals, with mutual respect. I have had less problems signing with hearing people than I did before I started living this way.

The most amazing part to me is how *right* this feels. I feel cleaner. Purer. More whole. More organic. I think more of us should do this, but I know that's not going to happen for a while. Too many of us have been brainwashed. I still find myself excising dysconscious audism in myself from time to time, so I understand! Richard is right. Playing hearing is a losing game. Thank you, Richard, for writing your entry. It is a treasure.

It's time to stand up for our community and tell the auditory-industrial complex, "ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! We are PERFECTLY FINE the way we are! LET US BE NATURAL, ORGANIC, AND WHOLE!" It is time for us to show the world we are valid and not broken by showing them who we truly are and cherishing that. It is time for us to stop playing a losing game. Let's play Deaf instead. Let's embrace who we are and truly be Deaf.