Yesterday was America’s birthday. That meant firing up the grill for some BBQ, making a sojourn down to the Mall, or surviving a tornado or two. However you celebrate it, watching the fireworks at night is a popular way to end the red, white, and blue celebrations.

Today, I want to talk about a different kind of fireworks. Not the kind that you saw in the sky last night. This is more on an emotional level. The day before yesterday, I was riding the subway home. I saw four young ladies chatting up a storm. Nothing special or extraordinary about this picture, except for the racial makeup. One was African American, one was Latina, then there was one of the Asian persuasion. Last but not least, a Caucasian rounded up the mix.

For a good portion of my commute, they were spiritually engaged in different threads. Topics ranged from men and hairstyles (wash-that-man-outta-your-hair vibe, perhaps?) to clothes and music. The flow was easygoing, and quite frequently, the conversation would be interjected with peals of laughter.

This got me thinking about the principles of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as stated in the Constitution. No matter the differences within the racial or ethic groups, we pretty much are striving for these three things. But obstacles such as stereotypes, labels, and misconceptions often stand in the way. We eye those people who are not of our kind with suspicion and coldness. That is why it was heartening to see those four young ladies feeling more at ease with each other than you would normally see.

So let’s take a look at the deaf community. Can Deaf, deaf, hard of hearing, cochlear implants, cued speech, oral, ASL, and all the other labels be able to sit down at one table, chew the fat, and learn from each other? Maybe break down some of the misconceptions that abound (i.e. Cued Speech is NOT a language, and is not intended to kick ASL to the curb). If you muttered “when hell freezes over” under your breath, better double up on the clothing layers. It froze.

I went to a social called “Cues on Tap,” which is like a mini-DPHH for cuers. My friend D, who is Deaf and an ASL user, accompanied me to that event. Me, I guess you would say I’m deaf, with a couple of toes in Deaf Culture. We knew diddly-squat about cueing (except the ubiquitous “Hello, how are you?”), but we both kept an open mind.

We were welcomed with open arms, and we had a ball. Of course, there were some communication missteps, but it didn’t dampen the atmosphere at all. Some of the cuers were surprised that we, signers, ventured onto their territory without arrows and spears. War face paint doesn’t look good on me, anyway. But just as a white person should step outside his/her comfort zone every so often, a deaf person should do the same with different aspects of the deaf community. Then the barbs, insults, and put-downs that we exchange with each other would be reduced substantially. Only then would we have a better than a snowball’s chance in hell of reaching that echelon, like those four girls on the train.

In the immortal words of Rodney King, “Can’t we all just get along?”