Turn on the CLOSED CAPTIONS!

A few months ago I was hit with the most simple, but penetrating question any child of deaf parents can be asked.   I didn't realize that by answering I was exposing the color of my soul.  After reflecting on the question it's fair to say it should perhaps be asked to every self-respecting member of the Deaf community. My wife and I sat down for a chat with an older deaf couple, when the husband blindsided me with, "Do you use captions when watching TV?" I paused for a moment, trying to discern what his angle was in asking me this off-the-wall question.  Before I could respond my wife interrupted, "YES! He does! ALWAYS!"  This man then looked at me with eyes as if I was his own son, and replied "I'm proud of you.  I'm proud of you.  I'm proud of you."

For most hearing persons an obstruction to the viewing screen is commonly considered offensive.  Even a quickly passing body, or corner of a chair blocking a portion of the TV may elicit a "Hey! Move it!" from those watching in the room.  As adolescents we felt no differently about closed captions.  It seemed that whether high or low on the screen, these black text filled blocks always covered the most intriguing part of the show.  Did Kobe hit the game winning shot?!?  We didn't know, because our screen was covered with subtitles for something the announcer said 15 seconds ago...

I'm fairly confident in saying that during an NHL playoff match, my dad barely paid any attention to the captions, but that didn't stop him.  We could be in the middle of TRL, or Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, but if my Dad walked into the room, and the screen was clear, you were bound to see him say, "Turn ON closed captions! NOW!" The television was ruled by this Iron-Fist.  Sometimes in order to relieve the oppression we would even switch captions off while my dad was taking a bathroom break.  Lost in the few moments of delight, we were snapped out of it by a strong STOMP, and my father's hands signing "Hey! What happened to the subtitles? What happened?"

Now as an adult living a state away from my parents I rarely watch a movie if it doesn't offer subtitles.  I have a tough time understanding British accents, and like to think I have exceptionally accurate spelling.  Can both of these be attributed to my child-hood? I'm sure there's an article out there somewhere to prove this theory.  To CODAs, Netflix, hearing with deaf friends, CNN, and the like... I'd like to share with you one of my favorite quotes from my dad, "TURN ON THE CAPTIONS!" You would make many of us proud.

Including him....

early childhood

Can Dad really not hear me? What if the music is REALLY loud? Mom, stop signing to us we want to hear your voice! At five years old I was sure I was the only little boy in the world that was pondering such questions. Even then my life felt so unique and I hadn't even been exposed to d/Deaf, cochlear implants, Audism, ethics, professionalism, and the rest of these hot button topics that now swirl around my head each day. No, I was just Five years old.

This story is about me, but I'm not sure it can be complete without understanding a little more about my parents.  My mom, at first glance, is just like all of your moms.  She loved all of us more than she could ever love herself, and she is hearing.  My father was born profoundly deaf and spent ages 3-20 in a nearby School for the Deaf.   How they ever met? Now that is a story in itself for another day...

In elementary school my understanding of the hearing world soared exponentially.  Each day my reading, spelling, and understanding of the English language improved.  By 2nd grade I was CHAMP spelling, and I don't mean the champion of an ESPN televised spelling bee. At this young age what set me apart from the other kids is I could spell 'seeds' and 'toast' on my fingers as well as between the lines of a test.  However, at this age finger spelling ABCs and knowing signs-for-words was the extent of my ASL world.  Far be it from me at 7 years old to keep my dialogue conceptually accurate, or understand that I wasn't allowed to flick rubber bands across the kitchen with my brother because of Deaf culture!

Fast forward to 2012, for the past 3 years I have been working as a nationally certified interpreter and am 24 years old. How did I get here?  Do I like my job? How is my relationship with my father? These questions and many more you are invited to explore - welcome to my blog.