(Ch. 62 of my storyblog of my journey into Deafhood…)

Not all Late-Deafened adults embrace their deafness by making it their career, but I did. All of my life experiences after losing my hearing led me to establish a career working with Deaf people, and I know it was meant to be. Yet coming to this realization has not been an easy process.

Late-Deafened people sometimes have to deal with strong, cultural and political opinions from certain members of the Deaf community about whether or not they are “Deaf enough” to be leading or working with culturally Deaf, native ASL users. We even deal with those who feel we are not Deaf enough to use the word “Deafhood” to describe our own personal journeys as we come to terms with what it means to be d/Deaf. This is not a new concept. People who are bi-racial or are of mixed decent have also dealt with similar issues throughout time. I understand what this is about and I am supportive of their primary need for appropriate leadership and social justice.

Yet, these judgments are sometimes passed before people even meet each other. Late-Deafened individuals are sometimes automatically judged as “not Deaf enough” simply because they could once hear.

It is often assumed that most Late-Deafened individuals do not sign and do not understand or embrace Deaf culture. But this is not true of every Late-Deaf person. It certainly wasn’t true of me.

Still, regardless of our personal journey into deafhood, regardless of our understanding of Deaf culture, or our acceptance and use of ASL, regardless of our professional qualifications working with deaf people, and regardless of our personal acceptance of our deafness and deaf selves, these judgments still occasionally make us question if we are, in fact, worthy enough to work with or serve other Deaf individuals.

At times, I have questioned and protested this unfair judgment. Just when I thought I knew who I was, I now questioned whether or not I was “enough” of who I needed to be. What was I to learn from this? At times, I have been full of doubt.

One example of this was when a commenter recently made a remark on this storyblog telling me that the frequent appearance of this story would hurt DeafRead by turning frustrated Deaf readers away. This individual believed my story was corny and suggested I see a therapist. I was in essence, being told my story of becoming deaf was not worthy of being read by Deaf readers and I needed to make room for more important Deaf issues. My “not Deaf enough” button was pushed. Once in while, I let those kinds of comments still get to me.

However, I have been overwhelmingly reassured by you readers that my story, just like any other story out there, is worthy of being posted and read on DeafRead! (Thank you very much!) Occasionally, we all need a little reassurance.

I humbly admit that even though I have received an education in Deaf Studies, have an understanding, appreciation and respect for Deaf culture, and am a fluent user of ASL, I can never personally know what it’s like to grow up culturally Deaf. Likewise, a person who is born Deaf could not personally know what it is like to grow up hearing and then lose that hearing at the age 17. Our personal experiences of being deaf are different. Yet we are both audiologically “deaf.” Ironically, many of my culturally Deaf peers and colleagues have more hearing than I do.

Socially, I share with other Deaf individuals the common, ongoing challenges in our society regarding unequal access to opportunities that would enrich our lives and allow us to contribute as successful members of our communities. We deserve to be involved and desire to remain connected to our world.

Personally, I do experience the same feelings of isolation, rejection, oppression and unmet social needs that other Deaf, Hard of Hearing, Late-Deaf or Deaf-Blind individuals face. I experience the same communication barriers, crave social connections with other signing individuals and occasionally still feel on the outside when I am with groups of hearing people or during family gatherings. These are common experiences that most of us deaf people share.

Still, as a Late-Deafened individual, regardless of how I perceive myself, I will probably, on occasion, be viewed as “not Deaf enough.”

Psychologically, one of the most personal judgments any individual struggles with is not being “enough.” When we are perceived or told we are not “good enough,” “smart enough,” “nice enough,” “thin enough,” “rich enough,” “hearing enough” or “deaf enough,” for example, we feel rejected to the core, and our self-worth takes a huge blow. In essence, we feel we do not belong.

In the past, during these times of silent judgment, I sometimes found myself wanting to abandon all investment and connection to the Deaf community. Yet, I discovered these feelings were short lived. In truth, I cannot leave a part of who I am. I am deaf.

Though I grieved the loss of my hearing, I did not reject my deafness. Instead, I began my journey into deafhood by learning everything I could about what it meant to be deaf. I chose to embrace my deaf self. I stopped wearing hearing aids, chose not to get a cochlear implant, became fluent in ASL and proficient in Deaf culture. I graduated with degrees in Deaf Studies and Counseling for Deaf people. I chose to go to school with, socialize with, and work with other Deaf individuals.

I worked at Deaf residential schools, joined groups of Deaf Professionals and stood up for Deaf rights. As a steward serving the Deaf community, I creatively lead, inspired and empowered other Deaf individuals of all ages and abilities and helped them identify their personal, family and communal strengths. I worked to help them find their own inner voice, stand their own ground, make their own choices and define their own purpose. I strove to help build the capacity of the next generation of Deaf people to govern themselves, and I believed I have made a difference. I have accepted and incorporated many Deaf social norms, linguistic and cultural behaviors into my own life.

I chose Deaf babysitters for my son when he was young so I could expose him early to sign language. I signed with my husband and son at home. I had flashing door lights, captioned TV’s, and a TTY and in my house. I accepted myself as a deaf person, and I did not need to change myself to become more “hearing” again. Later, as I continued to evolve, I purchased a text pager, traded in my TTY for a Video Phone and have been enjoying ASL blogs and vlogs as a form of entertainment, information sharing and communication.

Over the past 26 years, my journey into deafhood has been a process of acculturation and self-discovery.

But still, occasionally, judgments are unfairly passed before people know any of these things about me. I feel it is unfair if I am judged before people know my background or the choices I have made. This is why I tell my story.

Am I culturally Deaf? No, but I am deaf. Am I a native ASL user? No, but I use and depend on ASL. Am I Deaf enough? You tell me.

In spite of these doubts or judgments, I still felt guided to work with all kinds of deaf people. I have never felt like it was my role to save or change d/Deaf people. I never felt that I knew anything more than other d/Deaf people did. In fact, I have sometimes felt that I am the student and the people I work with are the teachers. Perhaps the reason I work with other d/Deaf individuals is because God has something for me to learn from them, not the other way around.

There have been many profound life lessons along my journey of deafhood. It has been a journey to know myself and to find my way. Whatever the reason, I felt a calling. Over time, I began to feel I was in the right place doing what I was meant to do. Working with deaf people and their families has been a constant place of growth for my spirit.

For me, it is no longer about shape-shifting or stepping into whatever role is necessary to achieve a sense of belonging, respect, or significance. Rather, it is now about attitude and self-perception. I do see myself as “Deaf” and I know I am “enough.” I have learned it is okay for me to define myself the way I see me and still feel professionally confident and competent when working with diverse groups in the deaf community.

For a Late-Deafened individual, the journey into deafhood is mostly about coming to terms with our new identity and deciding which road we will travel. Whether we learn sign language or to lip-read, whether we wear hearing aids, get cochlear implants, use both or neither, whether we marry, work with or socialize among Deaf, Hard of Hearing, Late-Deaf, Deaf-Blind or Hearing individuals, we all ultimately find our place in life.

“Deafhood means a process, a journey for all Deaf people. It is not a measurement who is Deaf and who is not. It is a process of becoming the best Deaf human being one can become….

…The definition of deafhood is a very complex one. It requires self-analyzing, exploring, and understanding what Deaf means to us all. Such processes are part of consciousness-raising. With all different interpretations and understanding we have, they will help us to envision where we come from and where we are going. With our different experiences and journeys, we will reach a common goal that is to unite us for Deaf humanity.”

~ Genie Gertz, faculty member in Deaf Studies
at California State University, Northridge
with a specialty in Cultural Studies

See more of Genie’s vlog entitled: “Deafhood Misconceptions Clarified”, or visit “Deafhood” at Joey Bear’s vlog site – www.joeybaer.com

(Footnote: You have been reading the final chapters in my summer storyblog entitled: My Journey Into Deafhood, which tells of the first recognition of my deafness and waking up to a world of silence, 26 years ago. It also tells of how I grieved, coped, adapted and then thrived as I learned to embrace my Deaf self. Thank you for reading! The final installment will show on August 8th, 2007. You’re almost done…)

Posted by LaRonda on Tuesday, August 7th, 2007 at 4:30 am.