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.