Bowing Out.

It has been almost a week since I have got back from America and I still don't think I have got over it. England is so English. America is so big, proud and brash and us Brits sit here modestly sipping our tea whilst the land of hope and glory crumbles round our ears. This trip, I know, will stay with me for the rest of my life. In some ways, it has been a turning point for me, a small sail of resolution in a shifting sea of uncertainty. Before America, I would pick up a book that read: ASL or American Deaf Community and go 'Bah! I don't need to know about America!' but as it turns out, I do. America has a lot to teach the world and a lot it can teach Britain. We have experienced some incredible things, learnt some fantastic and sometimes shocking information, seen art in sign language, seen tour interpreted, met with some fantastic organisations and met signer after signer, whose language I could watch forever, if my brain would let me.

American TV does not have captions or if it does, you need a special TV but the rest of the access is better than I have seen anywhere in England. Places actually have interpreters which are both available and good! Take the 9/11 Museum, I emailed them, they brought in a interpreter. Simple. In England, a few museums have a signer on a TV screen but only in places with a large Deaf community. That's about all the access you get. I was sad to see no interpreted performances after Spring Awakening closed in New York but various places had signed performances upcoming. Disney was another world of interpreting that I will never forget, the access to the performances and the standard of interpreting was another level to behold. Seeing an event like ArtSigns was lovely to see and interesting to attend and all round good eyeball burning fun. Apart from the price.

The American deaf community are as much of a varied bunch as the USA is itself and more accepting than Britain. I have only been acquainted with deaf people for about two years which is no experience at all really but I feel like the deaf people in America are a lot more accepting and open. I would be drawn into conversation with complete strangers, given tips on how best to see the county, people would ask about BSL and try and finger spell the BSL alphabet, they would ask about me, where I learnt to sign and why. They would openly accept questions and go into detail and talk about themselves and the experiences they have had as deaf people. I found the students were the same, both us and them relishing in the shared experience of being hearing in a deaf world and remaining in a grey area, on the edge of the Deaf community. They were open and eager and accepting and I have never really known strangers to be so accepting and kind and when I say this, I am talking about hearing and deaf. In England, I have met very few deaf people similar, those who I am acquainted with sticking to their close knit groups of familiar faces

The language itself is beautiful and intricate and like BSL, ever evolving. It is so pure and unashamed of itself, ASL is truly DEAF with little influence from the English world, proud and loud and wanting the world to know that it is not going to apologise for being what it is and it is not going to be shoved under the carpet for another hundred years. Now to me, BSL seems a little diluted, a watered down language, reflecting the prim and proper ways of the English language and trying to become less of itself to cater for the masses that do not understand. Saying this as a hearing person, I think BSL would be a lot easier to acquire than ASL, BSL is influenced a lot more by the English language making it easier for those with English as their first language to pick up the strings of signs and convert them into their own language.

On this trip, I have learnt not to translate the signs into English words in my head: it does not work that way. As I should have learnt a long time ago, it is about the meaning of the signs and how the signs create meaning. not how the signs translate word for word into English. ASL relies heavily on fingers spelling, which is why I am glad I learnt the alphabet before I set off. Words are spelt if they do not have an iconic or arbitrary equivalent at a fast rate of knots, fingers flipping in and out and knuckles shifting but a lot of the signs rely on the first letter of the word to create meaning. For example, the comparison of my name sign in ASL and BSL came up. My name sign is 'flower' in BSL for obvious reasons with an F hand shape of the index finger and thumb pinched together, reflecting the motion of a person picking up a stem of a flower and smelling it under their nose. in ASL it is the same placement and movement but with the 'R' hand shape, showing the reliance ASL has on the sign incorporating the first letter of the word. This is the same for 'ready', with one or two hands flipping 'R' outwards and for elevator with an E descending the other palm and the same for emergency.... I could go on.  Name signs also incorporate this, a distinctive feature of trait of a person is recognised and then the first letter of their name is incorporated. I now sense the importance of opening you mind to other languages and I have a hungry wish to learn more ASL, of its grammar and how it is structured (going to be hard in England) and more of the worlds sign languages in their vast variety.

I still cannot believe that we stayed in Gallaudet. The giant piece of deaf history that I have read about in every book on the topic of deafness, I have seen it referenced in films and online videos. Ever since I heard about it, described with such enthusiasm by my lecturers, I thought it a far off pipe dream that I would set foot in the grounds, let alone stay there for two weeks. I got to go inside Ole Jim, the powerhouse of the 88' Deaf President now campaign! It was a dream. I am planning on going back, even if I have to take out another student loan just for this purpose. Seeing the language used in the smallest aspects of the running of the university was astonishing and something I was completely unaccustomed to. Seeing a place with flashing doorbells, deaf space, clear sight lines, campus police call buttons and the largest array of deaf and sign language themed books is un-explainable. The surrounding area was also astonishing, people familiar with the Deaf community and sign language, picking up signing and finger spelling without the usual fuss of the gawping mouths, looks of confusion and scramblings for pen and paper. NTID, although our visit was short, gave the same impression: one of equality and acceptance. There should be more universities like Gallaudet and NTID, there should be more communities that treat signing as a average, everyday thing and not like a alien language from mars. Honestly, England cannot hold a candle.

So this is the last post of the Deaf Studies Trip to America blog. I hope you have enjoyed reading a smuch as I have enjoyed writing. I will never forget the many breath taking and mind boggling experiences I had in America. 

Interpreting, Remembering, Being Hearing and ArtSigns.

I have come across a few situations where I have felt exceptionally hearing. In BSL, there is a sign for 'exceptionally and obviously hearing' where you create a H with your fingers and tap your index finger against the side of your head and then your mouth. In America, the variety of people I met were mostly accepting of the audiological status of my ears. I only had a few incidences where I felt a little bit judged or patronized but I felt labelled on one occasion. We had found an Art Gallery Tour given in ASL at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York, named ArtSigns. There was two categories to book onto this tour: Deaf community or ASL student. I would not class myself as either: I am not studying ASL, I am studying a different sign language and I would not say I am a part of the Deaf community either, as much as I would like to be. Unfortunately,  the ASL student tickets had sold out therefore I had no choice to book on as a Deaf community member. After all, what does that entail? Not just deaf people but hearing children of deaf parents or interpreters or friends of the deaf? I figured I could pass off as a member of the Deaf community for one tour. 

I was wrong. According to the ArtSigns tour and the Whitney Museum, I am not a member of the Deaf community because I am not deaf. Upon arrival at the museum, we were handed from staff to staff until we found ourselves in the line for the ArtSigns goers. The four of us stepped up and considering how the thing was named 'ArtSIGNS', I was a bit shocked to find the woman behind the desk utterly clueless to the 'wavy hand thing' or y'know, the fully certified and hugely popular language. We were passed onto a deaf member of the team and the woman did not even try to understand her and reached for paper and pen. It was embarrassing and a little shocking that this lady works with a deaf member of the team but did not even know the sign for ticket. The deaf lady asked us if the whole party was deaf and upon finding out that no, we are not, asked us to buy a proper tickets for entry into the museum. I was told that this was because I was hearing. That was it. 

I had to pay $18 for my ticket into the museum for an event that is free to deaf people. I couldn't understand why it mattered, I was still going to stand there and gawp at the tour guide just like everyone else. Sure I wasn't going to understand most of it but if I had kept my hands tied and mouth shut when they asked whether I was hearing or deaf then they would have been none the wiser. It states on the website that an ASL interpreter would be provided to give a voice-over and I apparently needed to pay for this because I was hearing. The deaf people did not need to pay because they did not need the interpreter- the tour was given in a language they could access. 

After silently whispering sorry to my wallet and handing over the cash and a few miss -communications later between the deaf and hearing staff, I finally received a ticket. I really, really wanted to see the tour after seeing one similar in DC but after all the fuss over different ticket prices, I found there wasn't an interpreter. I don't know what happened here, I didn't really care what I wanted to know was: where was my money going? How come the deaf members got in free for exactly the same service as me but I had to pay? 

Despite the expense and the miscommunication, I really enjoyed socialising with the members of the Deaf community there, chatting to various people and explaining what we were doing in New York. It felt like I was really getting stuck in, like that night we went to the ASL coffee chat in Miami, not pushing myself to sign to much but making polite and simple conversation. It was worth going just for the socialising at the start, despite the looks and treatment I got from those on the tour that knew I was hearing and was not using an interpreter.

Luckily, an interpreter was provided for us when we visited Ground Zero, the 9/11 Memorial site. They had ASL interpretation, BSL interpretation and a few other signed languages available for the tour which was surprising as most of America didn't even have captions on TV. Seeing the tour translated into BSL and portrayed visually made the information so much more emotional and visceral and the interpreter made sure we were included in all the information, even the questions that the tour guide was asked separately. I thought this was very fair. I was offered the headset that the other members of the tour were given but decided that I would try and go without, wanting to rely only on the signing. I highly commend the interpreter we met at the Ground Zero site, his signing clear and fluid, his manner professional and calm despite the harrowing information he was relaying. He painted a clear picture. The guide that led the ArtSigns tour also worked at the 9/11 Memorial Museum, interpreting into BSL and this made me wonder how an ASL interpreter is booked and organised.


I have found that ArtSigns was not the only situation where a person changed their language when they found out we were hearing and could not sign fluently. We managed to get in touch with an interpreting agency who worked in New York under the name of 'Deaf and Hard of Hearing interpreting Services'. This meeting turned out to be a lovely meeting but as forewarned, a little bit cramped. The four of us filed into the tiny fourth floor office that was covered in inspirational quotes and a tiny kitchenette and were welcomed in to four horrifically uncomfortable chairs with two ladies  behind massive desks looking at us quizzically.

Different to the other groups we had met, the ladies were not interested so much in us but in imparting their wealth of knowledge and experience onto us instead. The service didn't just cater for those that are deaf but also for the deaf blind, worked as deaf relay interpreters and for the deaf that have  no language. They had a VLS service too and told us a lot of information on how the company was funded. They gave us the lowdown on how the company worked- they had 150 interpreters in total and matched the interpreter to the client based on previous knowledge and experience. The stories they had to tell and the information they had to give was insightful, funny at points and beautifully signed with such passion and rigour it was difficult to rip your eyes away. However, when we asked questions, it became clear that we were not fluent and suddenly the two ladies changed. The hearing lady changed to use voice at some points but still used full ASL whereas the deaf lady switched to a lot more gesture and switched on her voice and dropped her hands for some of the dialogue. It was a mixed myriad of voice, gesture, mime, ASL. sometimes BSL and sign and voice and I am sure a few language rules were broken but I was too carried away by the information to care. It bothered me a little that when they found out that some of us weren't fluent in sign, they changed their language. I suppose we all modify how we act and communicate to some extent when in different company but I wish that people would forget that I am hearing and that I cant sign fluently and treat me as they would any other person who is trying to learn the language.

Jewish? Deaf? Both?

Hello from New York! We have arrived at the last leg of our trip and we are in the Big Apple itself! New York is many things: dirty, smelly, rude, full of yellow taxi cabs, tramps slumped on the side walk, some of the best dressed women I have ever seen and some of the most radical sights I will ever see. Last night, there was a Black Lives Matter rally right outside our window at about half eleven at night. On Times Square painted women walk with nothing on but lacy underwear and then some blue and white paint covering their upper regions in the shape of the American flag. They pose for pictures with men for money. This morning a man was sniffing a large spliff and making noises of contentment out by Penn station. God knows there are sights here that I would rather not see. New York is a diverse community of all manner of people, the massive sky scrapers that make the landscape shadowing all manner of people that choose to walk the streets, eat the food and see the many sights and sounds of New York City.

Living under the name of New York, is a small Orthodox Jewish Community and one of the six Jewish Deaf Rabbis. I am neither Jewish nor deaf so when we rocked up on the steps of Rabbi Yehoshua Soudakoff, I was surprised to find him the most accommodating person I had met so far in New York, if not America. He ushered us into his small, semi detached and neatly trimmed house and immediately  offered us bottles of ice cold water and words of welcome. The water was well received after a long subway ride and then a walk through unknown streets. I was also definitely not wearing a miniskirt for this meeting: I covered up from head to toe, wearing a t- shirt, maxi skirt, and then a shawl to cover my shoulders and décolletage for the sake of modesty and respect for his religious beliefs. I was worried that when I signed, I would show off my elbows but need not have worried because the Rabbi was very accepting.  

I had gone with mind to be an onlooker because I am a part of neither minority cultures but I knew this was an opportunity I could not pass up, even if I was an outsider. I did not feel like an outsider, the Rabbi was a joy to meet, and our conversation passed easily, even if the meeting was a short one. I wondered how two of his identities would mix- his deafness and his Jewishness seems to be two parts of himself that we was very comfortable with. He expressed how there are many Jewish deaf in America who benefit from the input of sign into the services and he spearheaded an organisation named The Deaf Jewish Foundation. He himself had grown up in an oral world, struggling to lipread the Rabbi but found his way as a well-liked Rabbi none- the- less. The organisation set up summer camps for those who are deaf and Jewish and Rabbi Yehoshua Soudakoff preaches all over the world. As you can imagine, there are not many deaf Rabbis. There are six in America of varying denominations and none in England.

Our meeting did not last long, as the Rabbi was flying out of New York literally two hours after we left his home. We snapped a quick picture with him and swapped pleasantries and gave the spiel of what we were doing in America: ‘yes we are students’, ‘yes we are third years now’ (gulp). In his oak panelled study lined with rows of leather books, there was a canvas that looked a little bit out of place. Across the wall from the Rabbi's certificate for accreditation, a white canvas splashed with multi-coloured paint had a prominent place on the walls. He loaded up a YouTube video and showed us a video of one of the camps that the Rabbi and his group organise. It showed the children and teenagers at the camp wetting their hands with paint and then signing passionately the lines of the Shema. The paint flew off and left a multi coloured splashes across the canvas, a visual imprint of the prayers signed. The Rabbi had been given one of the artworks by one of the children at the camps and put it up on his wall: a beautiful visual reminder of two identities dwelling in one person.

I got the impression that not everyone in the small Orthodox community was as accepting of us as the Rabbi was. Leaving the house, we were met with the curious and scornful looks from three wigged women across the street. As we descended down the stairs, their eye bored into us un-bashfully taking in our clothes and the obvious un- Jewishness of us. The question of what we were doing visiting the Rabbi in this community hung above their heads and their scorn was writ across their faces.

We met another member of the Jewish Deaf Community a few days later, in Starbucks, just off Columbus Circle. We made this contact after an inquiry into a deaf Jewish event happening in the community that was sadly cancelled. Instead the interpreter and co- ordinator that dealt with our emails came to meet us. Bram Weiser walked into the coffee shop and warmly came to greet us. My nerves grew steadily as I saw the ferocity and speed at which he signed and I got a horrible feeling when I saw him sign that I was not going to enjoy this meeting. Everyone has their own separate signing styles and this signing style was pretty much indecipherable to me. I know full well I have said this before but his signing style was so flicky, with fingers flying everywhere. After six weeks of slow exposure to ASL, I was starting to get a little more confident but that soon went when he got into an in depth conversation about his work.

The one thing I was surprised about was that he did not originally ask if we were deaf or hearing, just launched straight into conversation. We assumed he was hearing through his status as an interpreter and as the meeting wore on and two frappuccino later, I still could not make out whether or not I liked the man or could not even be sure of what he was saying. He was very in your face in a way that was not comfortable and because I am not familiar with the language, I could not read his facial expressions to work out when a question was rhetorical or even if he was asking a question. He found out I was hearing midway through the conversation and flipped from pure ASL to very flamboyant ASL with lots of over exaggerated lip pattern. This was when I began understanding a bit more with the help of his suddenly switched on lip pattern. However, I have never been more patronized in my life by someone who was hearing but also a professional, working in the Deaf community. He very forcefully finger spelled words out for me, pushing his fingers into my face and mouthing the letters and when Alison signed it in BSL for me he flapped her away as if I was ignorant and should learn this new and wonderful language that he was nearly shoving in my face. He did, however, give me some decent tips for the future on how to be a successful interpreter. For example, he explained the benefits of co- working and to meet the person you are interpreting for beforehand and learn as much as you can on the topic. He expressed the importance of learning the interpreter’s code of conduct and try to mix with the Deaf community as much as possible. All important information but most of it I had heard before from other sources. Coming from him, I felt a small niggle of annoyance at the tone he addressed me with.  He assumed that I knew nothing.

A few times in America, I had seen it in a couple of meetings with various people: the look of recognition and difference in the eyes of a deaf person once they realised I was hearing and knew very little ASL. It's a look of exasperation, of 'here we go again' not openly expressed but there none the less. I soon found the person to be accepting once they knew I was interested and engaged and when I tried to sign. I can’t really blame them because they must have come across many very un- aware hearing people, as is the way of the world. In Britain, this type of discrimination is a much larger thing, people in America tending to be more open minded. When asked the question of 'What to do when your socialising at a deaf event and you are treated differently because you are hearing?', Bram did not get it. His perception of this was that the hearing person must have done something wrong for the deaf group to dislike them.

He told me to use my common sense to gauge the situation to work out whether this particular interpreting job was right for me and to back off if I was not happy with the situation. I am not sure what he was intending but this upset me and the topic got changed to safer ground such as the differences between England and America and both their sign languages. I still felt like I was being patronised (I know what regional variation is. I studied it! I am on a Deaf Studies course!). I felt like I was on a slowly sinking raft, drowning in conversation I did not understand with jokes that even if blatantly pointed out and used with the sign for joke, went straight over my head. I wanted to leave. I wanted to put Bram in his place, not just about what he assumed about me but also his views on the Jewish Deaf Community were pretty singular. I have never left a meeting with a stranger so confused, angry or het- up.

To meet a deaf man who was as accepting as the Rabbi and then to come in contact with a hearing person who made me feel judged, was to me, ironic. I was neither deaf nor a Jew but yet I sat across from the Rabbi and did not feel judged. Even as a man of high stature within the community, he took in my questions, he was patient with my signing and did not make me feel the least part different or patronised because of the status of my ears. I was disappointed that I did not get more of an insight into the Jewish Deaf world after the two very different meetings. The logistics would have been very interesting to discuss and I feel I have gained a valuable and unique insight into a fascinating minority.

National Technical Institute of the Deaf- The Underdog.

I recently saw a very interesting film, named 'The Hammer', focusing on the story of Mark Hammon, a deaf wrestler, who went to NTID or National Technical Institute of the Deaf to those who do not know the acronym (RNID? No. RNLI? TIND?). This university is a lesser known section of RIT or Rochester Institute of Technology (can you see why I am confused?), that caters for deaf and hard of hearing students. After visiting Gallaudet, it was interesting to compare the two universities but as it turns out they are both very different. 

We booked a tour to see the grounds and were met at the visitor reception by a chap in a bright orange -shirt, named Ben. Ben had a cochlear- sorry this definitely should not be the first thing I mention about him- Ben is a student ambassador and is in his fourth year of studying bio-mechanics at NTID. Ben also had a cochlear and signed in a manner that used some lip pattern, showing his mainstream background. I had not seen this much in ASL but he still had less lip pattern than people that use BSL. His fluent signing had regional signs that were specific to Rochester meaning that I had to work hard to try and decipher what the signs meant and string them together to create meaning in my head. He told us he learnt to sign before he came to university and further developed his signing when he first came to NTID.

The NTID campus alone was humongous, and that was only a small part of the wider expanse of RIT. It took us an hour and a half to get round it all and I cannot express to you how terrible it made UCLan look. Does UCLan have a ice rink? You're joking. A hot tub? Ha. A rock climbing Wall? Nope. A shopping Mall? No. Underground tunnels like in James Bond? No way. Have doctors in their service that know sign language? Now you are in the realm of fantasy. More importantly, there was a Ben and Jerry's stall on campus. The gym services were like something from the SAS, their support systems much have a million pound thrown at them a year and their campus was a flipping holiday park. Excuse me, while I go cry in a corner and wonder why I choose UCLan. Also, why am I not deaf? I could have gone to Rochester Deaf School and then NTID. Of course, I am only joking. It is clear to see, however, that England is a lot further behind America when it comes to deaf studies and the services available for deaf people. England has three universities that have deaf studies courses and no specialized university that accommodates for the deaf or teaches in sign. The tour was interesting and informative but meeting and conversing with the staff was truly mind blowing.

For starters, we had the meeting in a real life deaf research lab, cue: second fan girl moment. Sitting on the big leather green couch was like floating in a bubble filled with quiet intellectualism, where the academic giants of the deaf world are scattered around us, sat at their desk busy creating history or the next book of research I will read for my dissertation next year. There were academic posters on the walls describing the cognitive processes of deaf children. We were basically in the magical dream world of deaf studies  A man and a woman came and sat down opposite us and introduced themselves as Peter and Kim, Peter was a researcher at the lab, researching the cognitive development of deaf children and clever things like how a deaf child acquires language. Kim was the director of interpreting studies at NTID, catering for the students that went on to interpret for RIT and for the outside world. Peter was hard of hearing, and he sometimes he used his voice whilst signing ASL, meaning I could pick up most of what was being said, Kim was a pure signer of ASL and I could understand most of what was being signed. I think. She could suddenly start talking about aliens in hats and I would still be nodding along. The conversation was made a little bit more confusion by the two signers of ASL trying to finger spell in BSL to help us out, which was a lovely gesture but confused me a lot. 

We then met Matt and Matt was interesting. Matt was obviously proud that he signed and he signed beautifully and knew some BSL because he was originally from England and had learnt BSL before moving to America to learn ASL. The hearing contingent of our group also got a shock when Matt stood up and started speaking to a colleague, we had no idea he was hearing! Matt had worked at the Bristol research institute with a lot of famous people in the deaf world such as Paddy Ladd and Bencie Woll and he explained about how difficult it was adjusting to being in a deaf world as a hearing person, voice-off, twenty four seven. I now also realized where his fantastic ASL skills had come from- he had worked for the likes of Paddy Ladd. He explained to us that if you have a basis of one sign language then it is easier to learn another. Apparently, as a hearing man in a deaf world, he was continually vetoed over making decisions despite knowing sign language and being part of the team. He also said Bencie Woll was very difficult to work with but said it was incredible working there. It made me wish that the Bristol centre was still up and running today and that more people could have benefited from the influential work and ideas that the centre pushed forward. 

Matt's department at NTID was simply named 'Liberal Studies' and when asked what this was, I could not make out a clear answer. It seemed to me like his whole job was to take in deaf students that didn't have good enough academic skills to get into NTID or the 'big university', so it was Matt's job to help them bring their English and math skills up to scratch. A sort of half way college to get into a college, if you will. In his job, he catered for those who signed fluently and for those who knew no sign at all, sometimes the two different groups being in the same class. He then went on to state he used simultaneous communication in these cases. So this loud and proud signer walks in and tells us that he used a communication method that is not a certified language to teach deaf children. Interesting. Matt also told us some hard to swallow facts about NTID, the one that shocked me most was that out of 1400 hard of hearing, Deaf, oral deaf  and deafblind students, 600 were implanted. The wave of 90s babies that were the first to receive cochlear implants back when they were new and brilliant are growing up and going to university. This is a clear reminder of the direction, whether the deaf power like it or not, that the deaf world is going.

I am not sure which I would choose between Gallaudet and NTID. NTID  was a lot more accepting of the variety of communication methods that deaf people use. Gallaudet seemed to be aimed slightly more at the 'elitist' deaf, those from deaf families or whose first language is ASL. Those who do not fit this criteria seemed to be judged or frowned upon, probably why there were not many CI's at Gallaudet. NTID however, did not seem like a university that wanted to move the slowly trundling wagon of deaf acceptance forward but rather assimilate the deaf people in with the hearing world. It seemed to spread the message that deaf people can not in fact do, but needed lessons so they can go to a mainstream university like their hearing peers. It seemed like a helping hand but in a way that did not allow for deaf people to stand on their own two feet. Saying that though, the deaf research lab was an enlightening insight into the pioneering research that despite the state of deaf affairs in the world, is still continuing. It was a gift to have met the people in the deaf research lab and for them to impart their knowledge to us. 

Leaving Washington and Rochester School for the Deaf.

We waved goodbye to Gallaudet yesterday. Heading in a cab to the airport, it hit me how much I would miss this small university sectioned off from Washington's hustle and bustle. I would miss the open spaces, green campus and the rare sight of the students wandering the campus signing to each other. There is no place like Gallaudet in the world and after two weeks staying in the campus, I believe that it was an experience I will never forget and it is on my bucket list for the future.  Washington DC as a whole is firmly written on my bucket list for the future.

So with a few Gallaudet themed goodies, including shorts, hoodies and postcards, we left and headed to the state of New York, first stop: Rochester. There is absolutely nothing to do in Rochester apart from a museum of play and then a zoo. Oh, and Rochester School for the Deaf and the National Technical Institute for the Deaf (NTID), one a school and one a major university. Today, we visited Rochester School for the Deaf and tomorrow we are visiting NTID, two contacts we were very happy to acquire. 

Rochester School for the Deaf or RSD is situated just out of the main town, right next to a long river running to Lake Ontario. nestled in a quiet suburban area. If ever there was a role model for what a good school should be, it was this. The four of us wandered round the leafy campus with our mouths grazing the floor as we struggled to take in the specialist run school. It made Britain look abysmal in comparison, there was no school I have ever heard of that has such a high level of teaching and support. It had a swimming pool, a polished enormous sports hall, a fully kitted out gym room with a small area for the little ones to play on mats with big brightly coloured blocks. There was so much care poured into the building, not a wall left bare or drab, with signs and words of inspiration everywhere. In the kindergarten section a small sign read 'Where is home? This is home.' and I was pleased to see in reception a large poster stating what would make a good signer. encouraging the students to throw themselves in. 

The first two people we met were hearing, including out tour guide Mr Kruppenbacher and the receptionist. Our tour guide first question was if we were hearing or deaf and then going on to say that it might be a little difficult as to which language method he would use to take the tour. He stated he wasn't strictly allowed to speak and sign at the same times and this made sense to me because you cant really mush two languages together without some confusion and loss of message. We told him that he could just sign and we would pick it up and learn but throughout the tour, he slipped into speech and sign as we went round looking at the different classrooms. Mr Kruppenbacher was the public relations officer for the school, working with the outside community, sorting out the social media for the school and of course, giving tours to people like us.

He walked us into Perkins Hall, past a maze of chintzy wallpaper, past reception and into the museum of sorts packed full of memorabilia from the Rochester School's sports teams, old hearing aids and examples of the clothing worn from the era the school was first set up in 1867. He gave us information on the school itself: it was set up by one family with a deaf daughter who wanted to give their child an education, they went to Maryland, picked up two teachers and then moved back to Rochester. The company of children grew from one to twenty and then the group bought proper land and became a school. I had read about different methods of communication that have developed over time for deaf education and I had vaguely heard of The Rochester Method but didn't know it came form RSD. In the late 1800s, the Superintendent of the school decided that the oral method was the way forward and that every word should be simultaneously finger spelt to aid communication. Those children must have finger spelled really fast by the time they graduated. There were three beautifully painted portraits of the first family, as the founders are called, hanging in the porch, and there are paintings of the previous Superintendents of the school. Only two Superintendents have been deaf, the one holding the position now and one before that.  

We were shown the dormitory that had airy lounges and solid wooden beds made of the old school building that was knocked down. The doors never closed and were always pegged open so each room could be looked into and checked by the staff members that were on duty and so the children could socialize and see who was in the room without having the barrier of a shut door or having to do the pointless motion of knocking. The library was a large open plan room with a story time corner for the young children and apple mac computers for the older ones and of course, books. The tour guide showed us the view of the valley that runs down to the river by the side of the school, trees stretching up outside the windows, very close to the birds flying a few metres above. Students went down to the river to learn about geology and nature taking paddle boats to sail in calm waters and playing by the waterfall in the summer. Yes, it sounds like something from The Famous Five but after having the wonderful view of the Adelphi Pub back in Preston  from my classroom, I felt like these students are living in a dream.  

Mr Kruppenbacher, our tour guide, stopped us next to a heaving cabinet stuffed full of sports trophies and told us that these were just a few of the trophies their sports teams have won. RSD compete against hearing and deaf teams in the state, doing very, very well it seemed. Walking into the main school building, all four of our mouths smacked to the floor. The walls were lined with the most stunning art, depicting hands signing different topics in brightly painted colours. I knew out tour guide was signing something but we couldn't rip our eyes away. Every year a deaf artist comes into the school to create art with the children to display on the walls of the school, the particular work I talk of was created by Chuck Baird.


After seeing room after room of airy visual space and seeing the walls lined with lovingly created art pieces, I was interested to know about the actual running of the school. The oral method did not have influence here in this school, each child having a teaching plan created by the state, the parents and the school to decide how best they could be taught and whether they should be put into a program encouraging speech or whether they should be exposed to only sign language. Most classes were taught in sign, with a rough estimate of 40% of teachers and teaching staff being deaf, all of which know sign language. The school try to take on as many deaf staff as possible into their school and in every classroom there is at least one deaf role model. The students, some come in daily from far and wide on buses, some board at the school in the dorms, range from 0 years old to as old as 21. Staff go into a newborns home to give support until they are ready to start at the schools kindergarten program at around age three and then they will move through the program until age eighteen, when they will graduate. We were shown a board congratulating the graduates of 2016- all four of them, heading off to either college or into work. After this, the school support the students to go into a profession and if they are not ready, give them housing on campus so they can get a taste of life as an independent individual.

I could of cried seeing this school, wandering around it seeing the simple attentiveness given to the word 'Deaf', not having this word slotted in as an afterthought by the hearing administration. England is so far behind this level of schooling that it is practically pre-historic. You can barely find a school that use sign to teach. Scrap that, you can hardly find a deaf school. RSD support their children in every way they can: to write the best they can, sign to a high standard, read well and prosper as a deaf individual, engulfed by their own natural language, in a beautiful setting surrounded by deaf role models. This is so important for these students. I am not deaf, but can I move to America please?