Begin rant…

Last week’s week-long training in Philadelphia just reconfirmed my frustrations in dealing with hearing co-workers/colleagues/co-trainees — whatever you name them.

I grew up in the hearing world and did not get immersed in the Deaf world until I was a high school junior. Going through puberty was hard enough, and now I have to deal with ignorant people who don’t pay attention to you, look at the interpreter instead of you, or don’t even make room for you at their lunch table.

I was in Philadelphia last week doing training for my office — something I was really looking forward to because last year’s training was excellent and I was looking forward to gaining new teaching strategies and perspectives, until I saw how my co-trainees reacted around me.

Problem #1 My interpreters were satisfactory. I understood them, but there were times when they didn’t understand me. I wonder if they don’t know DC metro sign usage or they just didn’t understand me. So, I ended up taking extra time saying what I wanted to say, even having to f-i-n-g-e-r-s-p-e-l-l words that are commonly known. I gave up talking in training the rest of the week. It was just too bothersome.

Problem #2 In class, I noticed everyone was chatting with each other, or what I call it — networking. No one wanted to talk to me. It must be the uncomfortable situation of working with a Deaf person?

Problem #3 On Thursday, the next to last day of training, I went to lunch and decided to sit with the group, and told my interpreter to sit across from me so I could participate in their conversations. Upon arriving to the cafeteria, the table (designed for 6 seats, mind you) was full with 7 people. I walked close to the table, gave them a “look” hoping they’d nudge over for me. No luck. Just awkward smiles.

So, I sat at the table right next to them. Eight seconds later, another hearing colleague walked into the dining room, saw me, saw the table, walked to the table. They made room for her.

Okaaaayyyy… Calm down, CK. I was P I S S E D. They didn’t make room for me, but they did for a hearing person.

Cool-head.

So, that’s how I ended my week, frustrated at the continuing lack of inclusion of Deaf individuals by people in the hearing world.

I’m not a disease. I don’t infect. I just want to be part of the group.

It’s ironic that this came up last week because I’ve been reading on other Deaf blogs about people making career decisions and their roles in the Deaf and hearing worlds. One specific individual commented that she is concerned about making a decision because she is concerned about how her mother would react if she decides to be immersed in the Deaf world full-time. The hearing world isn’t perfect, I’ll admit that — BUT, to blatantly “dis-include” me was just not right.

*sighs* Rant over.