Somewhere around the summer of 1986 my twin brother and I made what became my first trip to Gallaudet. First time on an airplane, first time in DC, first time at Gally.

I learned three things on this trip, and each bit of knowledge came at Gally.

First lesson was from a Deaf-Blind guy. I think his name was Ronnie. At that time, I thought deaf-blind people were pretty unique. But this guy? I loved the fact that he ran the track (how does a blind guy run in a big oval?), and I loved how he threw a wrestling dummy around in the musty basement of the old gym in the heat of the summer. Apparently this was all the guy did. It was the dream life for me.

You see, I was an up and coming wrestler, or so I thought. All 12 years and 65 lbs. of me. His life of wrestling, I thought, was just awesome. The weights, the running, the sweating, the peg board (think of the movie Vision Quest)…how cool. Oh, and I thought I could take him–all 200+ lbs. of him.

Yeah, what was a twerp like me thinking? I did what every kid would do–tapped him on the shoulder and ran. I did that a few times. Until he caught me. We grappled for all of five seconds, then he wrapped his legs around my chest and squeezed until I passed out. Literally. I saw stars, my eyes went blurry, and I took a 45 second nap right there on the mat.

Rule #1, don’t screw with the Deaf-Blind wrestler.

While at Gally, my brother and I had met some firefighters that were playing basketball in the new gym. They were nice enough to let us play with them, and, every now and then they’d let us past them to shoot a basket. Or to miss. Someone on the sideline periodically would yell and we would stop the game, and they would go get in the truck and ‘fight a fire’ or do whatever they did. They always pulled away waving, and affectionately came back, rubbed our heads and asked if we remebered what the score was. So, like the easily impressed 12 year old we all once were, I thought being a firefighter would be an awesome career.

I started my firefighting career that summer by turning one of the wheels on the pipes in the stairwell of the Student Union at Gallaudet. You know, the red ones. If you don’t know, like I didn’t know, they make the fire alarm go off.

Rule #2, when you set the fire alarm off and someone sees you do it, blame it on your identical twin brother.

My biggest lesson was yet to come, though.

I had set out one morning to go the library and look up some articles on something that at the time seemed interesting. But, sheesh, when you’re 12 years, old Gally’s campus is the size of a small state. So, I did the smart thing–I asked someone where the library was. Just a random guy really, I couldn’t tell you anything about him. Except that he was Deaf. And the only thing he knew about me by the time we were done, was that I wasn’t.

I said something like, “Looking for the library…know where it is?” And the response I got was “Sure! Come, walk with me.” And we did what people do–chatted along the way. The banter went something like this:

Him: “So, where you from?”
Me: “Michigan.”
Him: “Oh, Michigan School for the Deaf?”
Me: “Um, uh, nope. Christian School.”
Him: “Oh, wow! They give you interpreter. Cool!”
Me: “Um, no–not really. I can hear.”

He looked me right in the eye, turned completely around and walked away. Not one word. Just a look that–to a 13 year old–said “Screw you.”

Looking back now, sure–I guess it’s anyone’s right to tell someone to screw off if they want to, but it was a helluva blow to a kid.

I just moved to DC this summer, and my first two months was spent in a cramped apartment at Florida and 7th. It took me three weeks to step foot on campus, and the first time was only to sneak a parking spot in the middle of the night. Since then, I’ve gone onto campus a few times, to meet friends or grab coffee, but every time I look up and see someone walking, I sure don’t ask where the library is.

20 years later, yeah, people still sometimes assume I’m Deaf. And yeah, sometimes I think there’s a big part of me that is. Do they like me any less when they find out I’m not? I don’t know. They may use their voice a bit more, or some a bit less. But so far, no one has turned around and walked away.

Rule #3? It takes all kinds of people to make the world go around.