Who needs sound to know what's going on around you...?

Emmy (of her fabulously philosophical "Right Turn Without Signaling" blog) left a comment on my post about stopping my mother dead in her tracks - "As my daughter's teacher always reminds parents who are baffled by the fact she's deaf but missing nothing, there are a lot of things that happen where you don't need sound to know it is happening. This is a great example of this."

Emmy, as I said in my response to your comment, you are absolutely right. However, the depth and the scope of how we miss nothing hasn't been explained...until now.

While I was standing around after getting my tattoos, the artist was trying to find something and I knew exactly what she was looking for. I got a piece of paper that was taped to the chair and handed it to her. She was surprised because that was exactly what she was looking for and she didn't say a word to anyone.

How did I know? First of all, she turned the chair around. The paper came into my view and it was a drawing of a tattoo that my wife wanted on her body. Then the artist rearranged her tools and accessories. After watching her be satisfied with her arrangement, I saw how her head came up and her eyes rested on the spot where the paper had suddenly "disappeared". She started looking around for it.

Easy as putting two and two together. There are other moments that have astounded even my wife who has witnessed my observation powers. Such as?, you ask (as I knew you would LOL).

Recently, my family and I went to our older daughter's school for "Trunk r Treat" where people would give out candy from their vehicles. After making our round, we went inside the cafeteria. I noticed some art, all using the same artwork. Ahh, coloring contest! My wife explained to me that each row represented each grade and each held the finalists. She pointed one out to me - it was our daughter's.

Of course, my heart swelled with pride and I thought she did a very good job compared to the rest in her grade. I tried my best to be objective and I looked over very carefully each art in her grade. 8 total out of over 70 students. 4 were marginally good or worse. I thought hers was either best or second best. I looked over all other finalists' art.

Then we all sat down to mingle with everyone else. Not long after, I saw a woman pull a single artwork off each row and then stand in front of the crowd. I realized that the woman had picked winners...and my daughter's artwork was still on the row. I was disappointed by that. My wife waved at me to get my attention and told me they're ready to announce the winners.

I told my wife "That woman already has picked winners and our daughter didn't win. Shh, don't tell her." My wife looked at me like I had no idea what I was talking about. The woman started announcing the winners by each grade. My wife asked me how I could possibly know that. Just as I finished explaining my observations, the woman announced the winner for my daughter's grade and my daughter did the "Oh man I didn't win!" face.

At least she was a good sport about that. I was proud of her for that and I told her so after we left.

First time in years...

...that I played softball.

I quit playing not long before my older daughter was born. She's going to be 9 in February. I had the itch to play but the timing wasn't right each year. I didn't really want to play for either deaf team - one is just full of arrogant players and the other belongs to a club whose president I would rather avoid as long as she is in the office.

I was asked few weeks ago by a deaf friend to come out and play for a hearing team (meaning either no deaf player or very few deaf players), but I wasn't able to go - the game was rained out, I had a party, and I got inked in that order. Friday night came around again and finally I was able to go.

After I got to the fields early, I sat in my car for a while so I could watch the game from afar. I sensed something inside me, but I thought it was anxiety from not having played in so long and not having had any practice at all. I got texted from the same deaf friend, informing me of the correct field and I moved to there.

The feeling intensified.

I met with my deaf friend who had been begging me to come out for his team. He was surprised to see me not dressed for the game and told me to go get dressed. So I went back to my car and dressed in there, away from prying eyes. I stepped out of my car and...

I became more aware of everything...the smells, the movements, the crunching and sliding of the gravel rocks...and I felt lighter, faster, and stronger.

I met up with my friend and I could see he was a bit anxious and I knew exactly why.

I went right into the coach mode, explaining how to stand, how to hold the bat, how to play catcher, and how to recognize situations. He didn't say anything - he just stood there and took it all in. As I was talking to him, a familar face popped up in my face...literally. I knew her from interpreting program at a college. I couldn't remember if she got certified as an interpreter. She was standing on a built-in deck that serves as seating for people to watch the game. I am over 6 feet tall and she is only 5 feet and some tall. I was amused by her choice of location to say hi to me. She told me that she will be coaching the team and she would put me in the game later. She introduced me to other players; all were hearing but not one knew how to speak sign language.

After 1st inning, the coach told me I would be catching. I slipped right back into the rhythm of the game when I went out on the field. The dirt was a bit hard but broke apart easily. Caked layer. The cold in the air was enough for visible breath mists. The batter's box was lopsided from too many batters digging in for a better grip. The grass was dry where outfielders ran. The lights shone perfectly.

The feeling.

I knew right away it wasn't the anxiety. It was what I had missed the most - the action, the innate ability to see into the future, the muscle memory, the snap of the ball into the pitcher's glove from my arm...

An inning later, it was my turn to bat. I looked around and assessed the placement of the outfielders. Standard formation. Meant I had to drop the ball in front of the outfielders if I went for it. I saw everything on the pitcher clearly...the shifting of weight on his feet, the sweat on his face, the dirt on right side of his face from wiping the sweat off after handling a dirt-caked ball...and he threw the first pitch.

I knew right away that the pitch was too low despite being on target. I leaned back and looked back at the ump and he signalled low pitch.

The count was 2-1.

Stepped out of the lopsided batter's box to re-assess the placement of the outfielders. They hadn't moved at all but seemed more alert, as if they could tell that I knew how to hit the ball. They didn't know I hadn't practiced at all... Stepped back in. The ball came in just right but seemed a bit too short. Thud. Right on the edge of the plate, but the ump called strike. Fine with me.

Count 2-2.

Stepped back out, took a breath, and told myself to wait for the ball. Stepped back in. The ball sailed away from the pitcher a bit and landed off to the side.

3-2, full count.

I dug in. Either the pitcher will throw perfectly for a strike or he will go for the edge and make me work for it. The ball came out and up...

I looked...

I waited...

It looked a bit off...

I waited some more...

Suddenly, I backed off.

The ump signalled for me to take the base.

As I passed the first baseman, I could smell her soap, chemicals, and sweat. My senses were on fire. I advanced to second when the female batter elected to walk instead of batting. That's the standard co-ed league rule. Bases loaded, one out. My legs tensed as I assumed the take-off position from the base.

The male batter swung at first pitch. Crack. I moved few steps off the base and waited. The ball fell in shallow. I took off. Kept my eyes on third base coach. Got the furious signal for home. Turned sharply on third base and ran for home. Safe. Female batter followed me in for three runs.

I caught 2 more innings and I never got to bat again, but the team I played for finally won by the score of 9-8 after going 0-3.

I want to play again. I may be aching in several places from lack of practice, but I want in. All the way in.

Formspring Q & A #9

Q: Sorry if this seems personal, but I am curious. What is sex like with hearing and deaf partners? I'm assuming that you've experienced both.

A: I don't think that is too personal. In fact, I get asked that sometimes when I agree to be on the hot seat for students in sign language classes who are either studying to be sign language interpreters or just interested in deaf culture.

You're right - I've had experience with both deaf and hearing women and I know that this is day and night when it comes down to that. The differences? Communication style changes (you can use your voice with hearing partners and you can't with deaf partners), senses (not having one sense can enhance the other senses, it's true), cultural differences (think of this as having different religions, beliefs, or race), and the "worship" factor.

Let me explain the "worship" factor. Think of your celebrity that you have a major crush on. You'd do anything for that celeb so you can have your experience. Not quite the same here, but...you have someone who wants to be with you just because you are deaf or hearing. Some deaf people do WANT to be with a hearing person for selfish reasons (having a "built-in" interpreter is the most common reason) and hearing people want to be with a deaf person for selfish reasons too (most common is to accelerate the learning process). I made sure that I wasn't with each woman for selfish reasons; I couldn't say I made sure each didn't choose me for selfish reasons - I don't have their brains. ;)

I know there's the inevitable question that begs to be asked - which is better, deaf or hearing? - and I do not have a preference. You could argue that I've been with hearing women more often than deaf women...but that's because the circumstances were right more often with the hearing women. That's my respectful answer.

Formspring Q & A #3

Q: Do you ever have people get mad at you because they think you are ignoring them? Then how do they take their foot out of their mouth after that?

A: Excellent questions! Yes, it has happened to me and the usual reaction on their part is "He is so rude". How did I know that? The look on their faces and their body language when I finally do acknowledge their presence. To answer the second question, my experience tells me that you should use the "Oh sorry I didn't realize" approach and treat me the same respect that you show to everyone else.

Deaf P.O.V.

This is a recurring series on what/how we, deaf people, perceive things in the world. The lack of sound/aural information that's readily available to you is what colors our take on everything. What we rely on is what we see - body language, mannerisms, societal customs, etc.

When I share with you my p.o.v., my observations may seem weird or odd or funny to you, but this is designed to help you understand a little bit better about how/why I think or act the way I do. This is not a true representative for all deaf people - it's just me. Once in a while, I will throw in some humor.

The first one will publish next week Friday the 23rd and the series will publish on Fridays.

Shelle's question about communicating with my girls

Shelle from BlokThoughts asked this in her comment on my "Chicken or Egg" post: "How do your daughters communicate? Did you teach them sign language? Are they fluent in it?" Sunday from Adventures in Extreme Parenthood also asked me in e-mail almost the same thing as well.

I will tell you this...it was very frustrating for me to try to understand what my daughters were saying as they went through their babbling stage and their mispronounciation of words stage. What most people don't realize is how equally frustrating it can be for them when their daddy cannot comprehend what is being said to him.

You could be thinking "What about his hearing wife?" Yes, she does step in and help clear up the chaotic messages...when she is there. She has a job so she can't be there 24/7. Now, you can see how frustrating it can be for all of us.

My wife and I knew long before we even started thinking about having a family that teaching the babies basic signs would greatly reduce the frustration of expressing their needs. Research has backed that up many times over. Babies do not learn how to speak words for a long while and they need a way to tell us what they need. As you can see, it really doesn't matter if both parents are hearing when it comes to decoding what the baby wants...as long as the baby has a way to express it clearly.

Basic signs like "drink", "eat", "milk", "play", and "hold me" helped my girls express their needs. As they grew up, my wife and I would add signs to their vocabulary. The funny thing is...their exponential rate of learning the signs would begin to level off as they start to learn how to speak and form complete sentences.

They seem to prefer to speak to me than to sign to me, forcing me to read their lips. My wife and I have been trying to get them to sign to me so we could understand each other. I would think that the family dynamic is different for us versus those of all-hearing families because of that. How so? Since we are all "bilingual" (meaning we can speak or sign), we can choose how to communicate with each other in the presence of others.

For instance - while my mom was visiting us last week, my wife was ticked off that I hadn't cleaned the dining table off and used sign language to express her feelings. I signed back to her, "My mom may not understand sign language, but she sure can read body language." My body language was that of a calm person.

Imagine how I can choose to deal with my daughters when they misbehave in the public. I can talk to them either in the privacy of sign language or without the privacy by speaking to them. Believe me, they rarely misbehave in the public...because they don't know which way I'll go and they don't want to find out. ;)