There are deaf people everywhere, which would make sense because the majority of the students here are deaf and use sign language as their preferred language. Everywhere you look people are signing, the people on reception, the men unloading their vans in the car park, the baseball players on the field. I can't get my head around it. After being in a world where the majority language is speech and back ground chatter of random voices is a constant, being in a place where you look round and notice the couple walking next to you are not speaking but signing is pretty mind blowing. There are still voices to be heard but they are rare and I pick them up easily in the calm quiet. Here, the tables have turned, I am the minority group of the 'normals' as the hearing people on campus used to be called. I also can't speak the majority language all that well but try to use it as much as possible while I am here. Campus is quiet because we arrived in the limbo time between the full term ending and the summer schools starting, so there are not many people wandering around. Despite this, is easy to feel the vibe of the place.
Gallaudet is steeped in quiet history after more than 150 years running as a university designed for the deaf. This can be seen through the statues dotted around campus. The first President of Gallaudet University, Edward Miner Gallaudet sits proudly on the grassy embankment named the Mall in the centre of campus and the statues of Laurent Clerk outside Fowler Hall reminds me that I am currently stood in the middle of a deaf history lesson. I am surrounded by it. The Deaf President Now campaign is still visibly a source of pride for the university, exhibitions on it alone standing in the museum and visitor centre. 'Ole Jim' the powerhouse for the influential campaign stands as a constant reminder of what was achieved during the week the world heard Gallaudet back in March 1988, the building holding memorabilia from the event and the old merchandise from the 1980s. It felt like a privilege to be stood in the room where so much history developed. Some of the buildings from the original campus are still standing, refurbished to their historical prowess and scattered around the leafy campus. Our dorm is not one of these building, it feels like I have been transported back to first year in my old halls in Preston, only with deaf space. There are flashing doorbells and lights above the doors, there is open space to see your roomie and every where is light and airy. I wonder why there is a mirror against a water fountain set against the wall and then realise it is because the people here can't rely on sound to know when someone is approaching behind them so need to be able to see the space behind them. On the third day, we are infested with ants across our window sill, makes me feel like I am back in crappy Preston again, I suppose uni halls are uni halls, no matter what the country.
The Bison tour gave us an insight into the history surrounding Gallaudet, showing us the separate historical buildings such as 'Ole Jim' but also the newer elements of the campus, like the newer accommodation built in the 2000s. Gallaudet seems to be a mixture of the old and new, each part entwining to create the feeling that it is a power house in the deaf world, a entity that knows which direction it is heading towards and what it wishes to achieve. We also got to go into the Presidents Office which was something quite incredible as I didn't realise we were going there until our tour guide, Conrad, told us that the first deaf and female President of Gallaudet was in the next room, holding a conference behind the giant polished wood doors. I could hear the interpreter. I tried to suppress my nerdy excitement and move on to the next point of interest, which was what looked like a lectern with a handle sticking out the front. Conrad pulled the handle and I nearly jumped through the roof. Inside the lectern was a weight that went thudding to the floor when you pulled the handle, making the floor vibrate and my eardrums want to recede into my head. It was an old fashioned door knocker, which instead of relying on sound, caused the floor to vibrate so the deaf people inside the room, knew when someone wanted to gain entry. I politely declined pulling it again. Conrad also showed us the Sorenson building which was designed as deaf space. There were wide staircases so people can easily hold a conversation whilst walking upstairs, open plan space so you can see everyone and everything in the building and it was light and airy so vision isn't restricted. The rooms had misty panels so that you could see if there was anyone in there but not who or what they were doing, allowing for vision to be the main stimuli in this area. Glass elevators and panels on the floors above with rounded walls. The concept was fantastic but most of Gallaudet is designed this way.
What suprised me most here is that, yes you see people signing around and on campus as well as the odd few speaking but off campus and in the surrounding area, deaf people are an obvious part of the community. They are stood on steps on porch fronts chatting away, waving to friends in the street and more astoundingly, you can go into a shop and people understand signing. You want rice and finger spell it to the person behind the counter, they get it straight away and give you your order, no problem. In England, you would need three interpreters, a degree in mime and gesture and a handbook on beginners finger spelling for them to comprehend that you want a Carlsberg and you would still end up with a diet coke. The people in the surrounding area are used to signers and know how to communicate with them, they don't look like a fish out of water and don't look to me, they just get on with it, no problems. In a dream world, this should be everywhere. America puts England to shame.
Along side the bison tour, there has been two other events we have gone to whilst in Gallaudet, one of which being a 'ArtSigns' ASL led tour in the Smithsonian Art Gallery. One of the security guards was quietly finger spelling to himself in his booth, mouthing and spelling out the words S-M-I-T-H-S-O-N-I-A-N A-R-T G-A- then he realised he was being watched by two bemused tourists and bashfully lowered his hands as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have. We asked him where the tour was and he replied in the next building straight over. Look another hearing person that understands sign, it's a miracle! The tour consisted mostly of hearing students that attended Gallaudet, studying the interpreting module, who came over to speak to us before the tour started. It was clear that the tour was aimed at their level for the tour guide signed slowly and deliberately so the interpreting students could understand. It was led by two deaf women who explained the meaning behind three important paintings in the gallery, doing exactly what a hearing tour guide would have done but in sign.
We were invited on facebook to a event named 'Deaf Vigil for Orlando' and decided we wanted to pay our respects. We quickly spotted the group on the Dupont circle in Washington DC, easily noticeable because they were a large group of signers. They had a banner painted with the I love you ASL handshape in rainbow colours- a perfect tribute to an awful event, this one symbol showing solidarity between the deaf community and the LGBT community. We joined the group and the tributes started, the presenters signing to the crowd. I was too far away to hear the interpreters and couldn't see or really understand so Alison translated for me into BSL. This caused the people around us to clock onto the fact she wasn't signing ASL and then stare at us suspiciously for a little while, as if we were speaking voodoo. Around me groups of people were holding conversations with each other, hailing friends that they haven't seen for a while, taking selfies and ignoring the individuals addressing the crowd. A deaf pastor got on stage, explaining how he is ashamed to be a part of a religious organisation that does not condone relationships between same sex couples, urging the deaf community to stand united with other minority cultures. I was moved by this but seemed to be one of v few in a crowd of people carrying on their own conversations whilst people signed tributes to the horrific event that had taken place. If I had no prior experience of the Deaf community, I would be very taken a back by the behaviour of the crowd at this event.
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