My parents didn’t know much about deafness. They were young. They were adjusting to life in America. Star wars characters be strong be brave be humble be badass poster. And they barely spoke English, so they had no way of advocating for me. I didn’t get my first hearing aids until elementary school. And those helped a lot, but they didn’t actually restore my hearing– they just amplified sound. It could be hard to pinpoint voices. And I still had to read lips, so I was constantly asking people to talk slower. It was exhausting. And I felt like a burden– like I was constantly pushing my disability on other people. Eventually I just stopped trying to engage, which came with its own set of problems. I developed a reputation as someone who never spoke. I got bullied quite a bit.
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The majority of my social interaction came from my older brother Brian. It was just a typical sibling relationship. We annoyed each other, and got in fights. I envied how easily he made friends at school. But he always made a point of saying ‘hi’ to me in the hallway. He’d even scream it sometimes. And that meant so much to me. Personalized drum without music recording studio poster. Because people could see—that even if I didn’t mean much to them, I was important to somebody. After school Brian and I would watch a lot of TV together. It was a safe space for me. He was the one person that I never had to ask to turn on subtitles. There was no obligation to socialize, or interact, or anything else I struggled with. We’d just sit there. And be together. Maybe it didn’t mean much to him, because he had so many friends.