Expressing Myself

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As a Deaf parent, have you ever wondered about issues in regards to raising your hearing children?

Do you have questions that you would love to ask but haven’t had the resources?

Or didn’t know who to ask?

Would you like to meet online with other Deaf parents to discuss topics such as - what to do when hearing people ask questions to your child in public, sign language, teenager behavior and much much more. Start to understand that some of your child’s behavior is standard among their peers, not because they have Deaf parents. Also learn about topics to communicate with your child to avoid any confusion for them in the hearing world.

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I’m finally owning up to it! IT IS ALL ABOUT ME! At conference I had a breakthrough moment. I’ve been fearful of my ideas and taking them out into the world. I was always wondering what the negatives would be. I was scared of being who I was “CODA” and running with it. This year’s conference helped me to see that I want to be a speaker. “Hearing” people tell me that I have great stories that are also inspiring!

Basically you have to love yourself before you can love others. If I don’t think about my healthy needs and focus on ME - then I can’t focus on others. It’s true, there are studies. You know like when you get on a commercial airplane and they tell you…secure your own mask before assisting others. Same concept!

Photo credit - another fabulous Coda - Sean he also talks about the conference here!

Sometimes I Google myself, and I found this blog post almost 2 years ago from Xanga. Pretty funny now.

Trying out the new laptop while I make and post this video. Got some bugs to work out, it cut me off in the end, but the jist is I’M EXCITED!!!

The countdown is the toughest part, when others arrive before I do, I hear about it on our groups, FB and IMs. It starts to get me itchy. Can’t wait til Thursday when the road trip begins.

When I go to conference it feels like just a really comfortable setting. To be myself without that extra element of having to explain about my parents being Deaf. Some people really call it home. My parents are still living, but for those that parents have passed, I’ve been told conference gives them that part of them back. Several Codas are not in Deaf-related work fields and this conference allows us to celebrate our heritage along with Deaf heritage. We are a sub-culture of the Deaf community.

I enjoy no explain explain at conference! It allows me to just building friendships based on me, not first let me tell you all about the Deaf world. Oh and yes I like drama, cooking and gardening.

I’m excited to see my family!

Have you injured yourself while signing?

I met Shai on Facebook, through his sister Keren. We were talking and I had asked her to contribute to the blog. She is working on her first post (nudge, nudge) and mentioned her brother might like to contribute too. After a couple of emails via Facebook, Shai agreed to write for www.codadiva.com

Shai asked me, “what should I write”? I told him to write anything he felt like - in any style. I wanted to be just as surprised as all of you. Shai decided he would write an essay, and break those down into manageable posts.

After reading this portion of the essay, I found myself so very honored to know this young man.

A. Introduction

There was a beautiful woman called Jana Orbach who was deaf in one ear and almost deaf in the other. She was born completely deaf in her left ear and her hearing was slowly deteriorating (as is for all of us) in the other.

There is a very handsome and very tall man whose name is Menachem Orbach, who was born with two perfectly functioning ears, but, following a surgical procedure to cure his meningitis at 10 months old, his hearing was completely lost. Menachem is, in fact, as deaf as a deaf man could be. To illustrate his inability to hear, I could say that if you turn on your stereo and turn the volume as high as possible, he still won’t hear it.

Jana and Menachem are two people who made love sometimes in the late Autumn of 1984 and begat, doting and dazzled by their infant, the person who wrote these words, on the 28th of August, 1985.

Mom said it was an easy delivery.

I am Jana and Menachem’s second-born (to be followed by no other offspring), and my name is Shai Orbach. As a son of a deaf father and a hard-of-hearing mother, I proudly title myself as CODA, a child of deaf adults. Because my particular “CODA-ness” is a bit intricate (it’s not just “two deaf parents”, the hearing loss is not genetic, etc.) , I have chosen to begin this article in this fashion. From now on, I will focus mainly on what it was like to be an Israeli CODA, and what it is like, in general, to be a child of deaf adults.

As a short clarification of why it is that I chose to write of my parents in this manner, it is fit to mention that my mother passed away last April (April 1st, 2007), on the very same day I completed my 3 years-long IDF military service.

B. Childhood

It is hard for me to recollect much of what it was like being a young (infant, toddler, and eventually, boy) CODA. As an infant, I know as I was told by my grandmother and other family members that I was a quiet infant, crying very little and all-in-all, giving my two parents a good deal of serenity as is possible for any parent with a very young child.

My parents, at first, did not sign to me much, and rather chose (I would bet, due to family pressure for being “normal”), to communicate with me using their voices. This was not a big problem for mother, who was hard-of-hearing, and if I yelled really hard (even that eventually stopped working), she noticed that I’m calling her name. I did, however, knew sign-language enough for very simple conversation, so the reason my sign-language today is fluent (and is enough for me to use it for interpreting) is because I was exposed to ISL (Israeli Sign Language) from a very early age.

It is, unfortunately, also important to point out that the fact that mom and dad chose not to teach me ISL caused a major communication barrier between them and myself until young teenage, in which I began teaching myself the “missing words” in my vocabulary.

Regardless of the daily communication hurdles my folks and I had to overcome, we, that is, my sister Keren, myself, Shai, my father, Menachem, and my mother, Jana, were a rather happy, rather normal family.

The most “not normal” thing about my family, and notably the only thing outstanding in our family (in a country with a huge variety of sub-cultures and customs) is the fact that we were, in plain terms, Deaf.

I consider myself and my sister, with our perfectly functioning ears, to be Deaf. The capitalization of the word Deaf in this instance is not a bizarre typo. I distinguish between a person who cannot hear or interpret voices into meaningful units of speech (words) as “deaf”.(this is not my idea, but I can’t recollect to whom the credit for this usage belongs to)

This, of course, is opposed to a person who belongs to the subculture of the Deaf. One might be Deaf even if he/she is completely without any disability, or, for all intents and purposes, armless, legless, blind, and anosmic.

I was Deaf ever since I was born. I was climbing chairs as a little ankle-biter during deaf-parties, utterly silent excepting a roar of laughter or a sharp intake of breath, and, of course, the “tsk-tsk” noises often made by signers who use their lips simultaneously (as far as I know, the most common of all deaf people).

Due to the fact that I signed very little, and hence spoke very little to my parents, I was a very, almost pathologically quiet young boy. At one instance, I was examined by a psychiatrist who merely stated that I’m “gifted”, an ego-booster that members of my family mention quite often. At this point, I wish to say that if I am gifted in any way, I would like someone to ruthlessly pinpoint what that gift is, as I’ve been wondering all my life whether there really is a gift I possess. (Off-topic, the meaning of the name Shai in Hebrew is “gift”. Usually a small, unremarkable gift, but a gift, nevertheless)

Being a CODA is a huge, tiring, heart-tearing, emotionally-exhausting responsibility. A deaf parent should have a right, as any, to bear children and care for them, and, this I say of personal experience, have them well-bred as any other parent (and perhaps even better so).

But deaf parents must also be aware that their CODA offspring will endure the yoke of CODA at all time. This yoke is the ever-renewing “CODA task” that must be fulfilled. As young children, Keren and I learnt very quickly how to deal with bankers, technicians, correspondents, mailmen, neighbors, plumbers, etc. Needless to say, as two children who could barely sign, it was a bit short of a nightmare. But somehow, we fared through it. Keren managed most of the CODA work (but not all of it!) until I became a bit older. Then, at a critical point in every Israeli person’s life, Keren joined the IDF, which leads me to the next chapter of my CODA experience: Teenage.

C. Teenage

By my teens, doing CODA-work was something that Keren and I did somewhat alternately (with, I must admit, a bias towards Keren, older and more experienced).

When I was about 15 years old, Keren joined the IDF. I’m not exactly sure of the exact time when this actually happened, but at this point, it basically meant that at a time where “CODA-work” was plentiful, I was all-alone with two deaf parents. At this time, I decided it would be impossible to be their advocate without exquisite fluency in sign-language, and so, in about 3 months, I turned from an illiterate, mostly “lipping” CODA to a full-fledged ISL interpreter for both my mother and father, who, now older and more prone to medical care, daily required my help.

To explain what this period was like, I wish to introduce a term that I’m not sure exists in ASL (or in any other sign language that readers of this post might be using). In ISL, there is a word for “dad”, and a word for “mom”. The word for “parents” is, actually, a compound of these two words. Of this came the word between Keren and me, who, instead of calling them “the parents” (that’s the “Hebrew way of saying it”) –”momdad” (aba-ima in Hebrew).

So, as a lone CODA with a fresh (and ever sharpening) sign language, I became the mediator between my dad and the salesperson. I became the words in the mouth of the man on the phone, and my hands became the conduit for my mother’s part in the conversation.

I received, then, what I viewed and still view as the most noble of professions:
I became an interpreter.

To father, this was mainly dealing with the hurly-burly of his daily life. He dragged me down to all sorts of places.

To mother, to the very (painful) end, I became the man between her and the doctor. I signed words like “feces” and “menstrual blood” (at times in which I wasn’t exactly sure what these things were, but still knew how to sign). I took her to a myriad of clinics and hospitals to be examined and treated by a myriad of doctors, and have prescribed a myriad of medicine.

My mother, blessed forever be her indulgent name, was an ill woman. She became ill sometime during my early teens, I’m not sure which came first, the liver cirrhosis or the diabetes, but these two sufficed to create another (huge) responsibility for Keren and I: caretakers. We monitored her sugar-blood levels, and quite often accompanied her for the most meager of undertakings, and not, as it were, for “interpretation jobs”

Shai, thank you for opening up to us! I am in awe of some of your struggles, and can actually understand what it might be like, having Deaf parents myself. I’m also drawn to how you write with such imagery. I for one am truly blessed to have met you, and to learn from you. I’m intrigued to the meaning of your name, “gift”. I’ll be there when you finally discover it. It can only come from within - once you find it, you’ll know it!

Friends, I sure hope you will welcome Shai - I sure do want to find out more about his perspectives as a Coda living in Israel. Please do post your welcome!

It’s great to be supported when we need it, in tragic events, hard times and sometimes just because. The cultures of Deaf and Coda are so similar. I remember attending many events where the participation was large. It never occurred to me until a young adult some years ago. They went for the socializing, the place to be to speak in their native language.

As a Coda, both in the hearing world and Deaf, I found Coda support to be overwhelming. When I was feeling a bit disconnected in life, Codas helped by showing up almost immediately for a Coda “fix”. However when I find a Coda supporting me in a time when I’m not expecting it, like my online exhibition, it floors me with emotion.

I’ve heard about when there are tragic times, when a Coda’s parent passes, or is ill - the response by email and cards is overwhelming. Even if a Coda doesn’t know that parent - they send their thoughts and prayers. To be honest, it’s a bit mind-blowing. (I think this is going to get another post in the future).

How do you feel as Codas with the support you’ve gotten in the past? Has there been a time when out of the blue, there was a Coda - for no real reason at all?

*Note, I’m still learning Seesmic and there is no audio on this one - sorry!

This has been on my mind for a while now. I’m not really into music. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like listening, I know the words and I have a favorite band (Bon Jovi). I’m just not really into it. I’m more of a top 40 girl, since that is the most accessible music to me, it’s on the radio. I have maybe a dozen CDs, ok maybe two dozen due to my subscription to the BMG music club back in 1986, but that doesn’t count. I bought the Color Me Bad CD…see, I told you I’m not into music.

So I think of course it has to do with my upbringing in a Deaf household. There was no music, no emphasis on sound really. I find it very fascinating to read and learn about Deaf people that love music and are really into the lyrics and sound. Some of them are not hard of hearing, some of them are really really Deaf (I know I didn’t need the reallys there but it was for emphasis). I know some of them had hearing parents that were music professors or singers, but I’d love to learn more about everyone’s love of music. I’m curious, what factors brought you to be in love with music more than the average “me”?

How much is your love of music? Was music a part of your upbringing?

Coincedintally enough, as I ponder this topic for about a week, yesterday my husband (whom is Deaf) threw something at my son and I. He pointed out that music is distracting. While he complains the guys at work get distracted and don’t keep up I think he has a point. I know that sometimes when I am driving to find an address, I have to turn down the music in the car so I can concentrate. However, music does have a way of motivated to get stuff done.

And… just this morning, as I was listening to the news on the radio, they now have a study that links language with music and vice versa.

I’d love to hear all your stories, do you LOVE music? How did you come to love it? Do you LOVE silence? Is music distracting to you at times? Tell me!

My favorite sign is “cherish”. I think sign language is beautiful and first learned of this sign when my husband (boyfriend at the time) said “I-Cherish-You” Tell me what is your favorite sign? If you don’t know sign language, tell me your favorite word in English, French, German, whatever! Looking forward to your responses!

In my previous post Do you ever play the Deaf card? my husband and I just joined a dance class. We are now into our fifth lesson, however we have missed a couple due to illnesses and a concert to Bon Jovi. We haven’t been practicing much at home. Our teacher expects us to practice.

Yesterday’s lesson was the waltz, box waltz, revolving swing move, dancing on a diagonal. WHEW it was hard work. It wasn’t just remembering the steps, it was standing straight, feeling graceful and working together. My back hurt, hubby’s back hurt. We were feeling it pretty good.

During the class, our instructor who is close to 80 but moves like she is in her 30’s came up to me and said “did you ever think he’d be dancing?” She was making a reference to my husband. I’d like to think it is because he is a man, but it was because he is Deaf. Actually, I never did! I have been waiting for this since my wedding day. We didn’t have a reception with dancing and so I suppose this will just give me reason to throw a reception for our 10th anniversary. We’ll have 2 years to get the moves down!

I also convinced my husband to take the classes so that when his daughters have Daddy/daughter dances he’ll feel more confident in going. My girls are into dance. I also thought it’d be great if he could dance with them at their weddings.

So last night, my hubby made sure to tell the instructor that Marlee Matlin is going to be on Dancing with the Stars tonight. It will be really exciting! I don’t ever vote for people but I believe I’ll be voting for Marlee Matlin! I love how she says she is doing it to be a cool mom.

Happy Dancing!