An Introduction to Deaf Culture: My Personal Experience
Author's Note: This paper was written as a midterm assignment for my Anthropology class. The challenge was to define the terms "anthropology", "ethnocentrism", and "cultural relativism" and how they related to me in a personal matter. As I was just beginning to become engrossed in the Deaf community and culture at the time I completed this paper, I may have inadvertently used some terms (in ignorance) that may be offensive to some Deaf readers (i.e. "hearing impaired"). Upon careful consideration, I have made a few minor revisions to compensate before posting this article on the web.
Anthropology. To the average person, the word conjures up visions of exotic locales and far away places ranging from lush jungles to arid deserts, complete with natives as exotic and remote as the location in which they live. To the novice, anthropology is nothing more than a field of romance, mystery, and intrigue characteristic of such tales as told by foreign missionaries and portrayed by Hollywood in such films as “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom”. But there is much more to the field of anthropology than seeing “Gorillas in the Mist”. Anthropology is all around us, and is a vital and important part of our everyday life.
It was a beautiful but rather ordinary Saturday afternoon. Since I had the day to myself, some friends and I had plans to meet at a local church for a time of fun, food, and fellowship. Our idea was to get out and enjoy the day, spend some time with friends, and maybe even meet a few new people.
As I walked into the church kitchen, the smell of good food and the sight of colorful decoration tickled my senses. It would appear at first glance that this was just your average church get together, had it not been for one distinctive difference - silence. It was an almost eerie feeling at first – stepping from the sounds of the “outside” world into an almost complete silence that pervaded the room - not something the average person would expect at a party. But this was no average party. Hands were moving and flowing like poetry as words, concepts and ideas were being exchanged. There was laughter and excitement in the air...but no noise.
What was going on? Had I somehow stepped foot inside "The Twilight Zone"? Not at all. What I had stepped into was what is called “The Deaf Community”, or “Deaf Culture”.
As someone who has had some contact with deaf people and the Deaf Culture, this display of silent communication, though different than what I am used to, was nothing particularly extraordinary to me. But there was a time in my life, not too long ago, that things weren’t this way for me.
As a child growing up and even into adulthood, I had a concept of deaf people not unlike the concept many “hearing” people have in our world today. Along with this concept came some preconceived notions as to what (I thought) deaf people thought and felt. Not being deaf myself, I had to come to my own conclusions as to how I would feel if I were without my sense of hearing. Since I am from the hearing culture, naturally my ideas and concepts came from my own culture. As a result, I felt sorry for them because they couldn't hear the things I cherished, such as a bird singing, a symphony, or the laughter of a child. I wondered how they coped with everyday life and (I'm ashamed to say today), even somewhat pitied them. In my mind, I imagined that it must be almost intolerable to go through life with such a handicap. Even though I was aware that some of the more fortunate ones did know sign language, and some even luckier ones perchance knew how to read lips, in my opinion the most fortunate and “normal” of them were the ones who could talk audibly (as long as their speech wasn't slurred beyond a hearing person's understanding) - a trait I assumed only came when someone became deaf later in life rather than at birth. But despite all this, even so they were handicapped - or so I thought - because they could not effectively communicate using audible sound.
As I grew older, my interest in sign language began to increase. As an adult, I finally decided that I was going to “help" the deaf to better fit into society by learning their language. Although I knew that mastering another language would take years of dedication and practice, I was in for the shock of my life when I came to realize that communicating with the deaf was going to take more than simply learning sign language. For the first time in my life I was introduced to the Deaf Culture.
Before this time I was unaware that there was such a thing as a “Deaf Culture”. I simply assumed these people were cut off from the rest of us - the ones who could hear. Little did I know that they had a culture of their own - rich in beauty and diversity, and every bit as real and cherished as my own.
The personal account I have just related describes a term in anthropology called “ethnocentrism". What is ethnocentrism? Ethnocentrism is using one’s own familiar customs, thought patterns, and culture as the measuring stick in the evaluation of another’s customs, thought patterns, and culture. Since I was most accustomed to the “hearing" culture (my own), I automatically assumed that those who could not hear were somehow less blessed or fortunate than I. Ethnocentrism is not necessarily prejudice - it is simply human nature. As a matter of fact, many in the Deaf community have their own brand of ethnocentrism, feeling sorry for us poor hearing folks because we cannot fully experience the blessing of being deaf. Engrossed in a world of sounds, how can we ever know what it's like to meditate in silence? Imagine being a deaf person and trying to comprehend what it's like for someone to concentrate fully with all those annoying sounds ringing in your ears! Deaf or hearing, we are all human beings and as such are creatures of habit. It is human nature to lean towards the thinking that our ways are the best and most efficient ways to live. After all, if it works for us, it should be the best thing for everybody, right?
After becoming more familiar with the deaf and getting to know them personally, I am beginning to see them in a different light. I have come to realize that these people are not the sorry individuals I thought they were. Another thing I have learned is that one need not lack physical hearing to be a part of the Deaf Culture. The Deaf Culture isn't defined in terms of physical deafness, but rather it encompasses the thought patterns and ideas of the Deaf society. Many who are deaf are not part of the Deaf culture. For example, if a deaf person views his or her condition as a nuisance rather than something to be cherished and be proud of, that person is most likely not part of the Deaf Culture (even though that person is either hard of hearing or fully deaf). Yet at the same time there are many hearing individuals that are considered as part of the Deaf Culture (although many in the Deaf community believe that hearing individuals can never fully acquire the identity or become a full-fledged member of their culture because they have missed the personal experience of being deaf).
For many members of the Deaf community, audible speech and the thought patterns of "hearing" individuals are looked at in a negative light (just as the hearing look upon the lack of audible communication in a deaf person in a negative light). Many deaf couples are so engrossed in the Deaf Culture that they actually wish to have deaf children so that they may pass their heritage and values on to the next generation – a term called “enculturation”.
Through ethnography and participant observation, I am gradually becoming more and more familiar with the Deaf and their own unique culture. Through observing, conversing, and getting to know them personally, I have come to my own personal conclusion that these people are not to be pitied, but rather to be understood in the light of what is called “cultural relativism". Cultural relativism, simply put, means that in order to study a particular culture, one must be aware of the fact that the importance a person places on a particular way of life is dependent upon the society or culture that person is familiar with – and adjust their study and thinking accordingly. In my culture and beliefs, having my hearing was (and still is) a vital and important part of my existence. Though I could cope without it, it would take a lot of adjustment to acquire the skills needed to function as a deaf person. On the other hand, the importance a deaf person ascribes to the Deaf culture is equally as important as the value I have placed on my own way of life. To the deaf, the value placed on hearing is significantly less than the value the hearing world places on being able to hear.
Instead of helping the Deaf to better relate to the hearing world by “becoming” part of the hearing world, the result has been the opposite. They are in fact helping me. They have shown me that the realization of one's own self worth, importance, and way of life is not necessarily contingent upon having all five senses working "normally". Instead of feeling sorry for the Deaf, I have come to honor and even sometimes envy them.
Instead of trying to make my deaf friends change to fit my hearing culture, I have refocused my efforts. My wish is that somehow, in some small way, I can help to build a bridge between the two worlds. The bridge is not to be built so that one culture can attempt to live on the other side of the bridge. The Deaf will never live on the hearing side of the bridge, and by the same token the hearing will never make the Deaf side their permanent dwelling. This bridge is not to be built for relocation, but rather for exploration. The bridge between the two cultures is a pathway and open door into another culture - a way to see and experience the richness and diversity another culture has to offer. If we can somehow build these bridges between worlds, everyone benefits from the riches all cultures have to offer.