Alterity

PART FOUR: Chapter Twenty-Eight

PART FOUR: LEO

Chapter Twenty-Eight

This has by far been the most insane school year I've ever experienced. Like a 'what in the hell has happened to my life' kind of insane. I've always hated having to attend The Ducharme School because I'm deaf. It's just like any other hearing school but with more interpreters and other deaf kids. That's the only cool thing about TDS—the deaf community here is pretty big compared to all the public schools I've been to. The problem with TDS is that it primarily caters to the intellectually disabled: Everything from mild ADHD to like, full-blown autism.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I have a problem with the disabled kids or anything—I just don't like that it makes it appear like all the deaf students are here because we're also disabled, which we aren't. Being deaf isn't a disability! We're not 'hearing impaired,' or any other medical term; we're deaf. That's it. You're either hearing, hard-of-hearing or deaf. It's that simple. Some of the kids have cochlear implants too, so they get shit on a bit which I think is stupid. Saying someone with a cochlear implant "isn't really deaf" is like saying someone with a prosthetic "isn't really limbless." They are just as a part of the deaf community as any of us.

Anyway, the problem is I struggled a lot in public schools and TDS is the only option near me—that has a deaf program and community—that offers extra supports to students struggling academically. It sucks but hey, still better than a mainstream school.

The year began no more or less boring than it always does, save for a few new faces, and changes in school staff. One of those new faces I happened to catch staring me down in homeroom. Super cute guy with this hella dorky smile that would hold my gaze for a few seconds at a time, before his eyes would dart away. Shy, maybe? Whatever, it was cute. Next thing I know the same kid is walking up to me in the cafeteria, his cheeks flushed pink.

I raised my eyebrows expectantly and his mouth began to move. He must have been murmuring because I couldn't make out a single word lipreading.

I waved my hands in there. "Deaf," I say.

"What?" he says, clearly enough that I'm able understand.

I cover and uncover my ears with my hands. "Deaf. I'm deaf."

He cocks his head to the side in confusion—resembling a perplexed puppy—and then open his mouth as if saying Ohh. His cheeks than go from pink to a deep scarlet and sweat starts to appear in the tips of his dirty blond bangs. He takes a couple steps back—murmuring another word or two that I am unable to lipread—and then scampers away, leaving me chuckling to myself. I'm almost inclined to fetch a piece of paper and a pen out of my bag and pass him a note; try and figure out what he wanted to say to me.

I thought about the confrontation with the dorky, blushing boy a lot that afternoon, night and all through the next morning until he once again, approached my empty lunch table. I raised my eyebrows and nodded him hello. Hands visibly shaking, he gave me an awkward wave and then pointed to his chest with his index finger and began to spell his name in ASL. Erik.