Friends for Life

Addison greeted me at the chapel doors with two basic ASL signs and raised eyebrows.  How…you?  ASL skips the connecting words and adds question marks with eyebrows.   I have always thought of it as Tarzan talk.  Johnny Weissmuller would be so proud.  (If Addison is reading this, she just googled ‘Johnny Weissmuller’)

How are you?

I thought of signing the truth.  “Well, my lower back hurts on the left side, and my right foot hurts, and I really haven’t felt that great since having COVID.”  

But there are a few issues there: 

One, my ASL is not too wonderful although I have mastered the sign for COVID.

Two: Addison, who went out of her way to make me feel welcome by learning these two simple signs would not have the first clue what I was signing if I started into that litany of complaints.

And three, I am fairly certain that this is a rhetorical ASL question so truly my response is likely the correct one.  

“Good”, I respond in ASL and say the word aloud so that she will understand my response.  She beams…I smile back, and sign (and say) “Thank you! “ Mission accomplished on both fronts.  She has made me feel welcome by going above and beyond to learn a few signs. I have set the stage for expanding the acceptance of deaf people in society by taking some of the terror out of communicating with a deaf guy.  Maybe someday this nice lady will teach her kids or grandkids some basic ASL signs.  Breaking the barrier comes in many different forms.

When I first became deaf just a few years ago, some of my high school classmates got together and hired an ASL instructor to teach them some conversational signs.  They said that they wanted me to be able to follow along in reunion meetings and gossip talk.

My friend Sheila took charge halfway through the first lesson and asked the instructor to teach them how to curse in ASL.  Conversational became PG-14 in a heartbeat.  Soon anatomical signs were being demonstrated and various forms of physical activity were being expressed.  Sheila explained to me that she had a sixteen-year-old at home and she felt it necessary to learn signs for WTF?, as that was a phrase that was commonly crossing her mind during the sophomore/junior summer with her little darling.  Having lived those days with my children as a hearing person, I could certainly understand the benefit of signing the phrase as opposed to blurting out WTF?

I do not remember accomplishing anything at the next reunion meeting other than my high school classmates making me laugh by teaching me all the new signs that they had learned.  I guess those words were not included in the curriculum at the local junior college where I attempted to learn a few signs of my own.  But that night the barriers came down with the expressions of laughter.

So…to Sheila, Barbie, Mark, Becka, Cindy, Adelaide, and David, thank you for helping me discover that we can teach each other a form of acceptance through laughter.

And to Addison, who one day soon will be standing at the chapel doors and will sign those two simple signs again…

How…you?

Just be ready.  My response will be: “Handsome, thanks for asking” because that’s always good for a laugh.

Thanks for listening!

Your friend,

KBM
Kevin Medlin
kevin@mysilentpew.com