Sitting in the office next to the Principal's door, staring at the wall, playing with my fingers, I wait for the principal to call me in. The office is same old usual. I’ve been here many times. I come during lunch to get away from everyone bullying me. The office was always a safe spot for me. However, today’s the first time I’m called to the office and it isn’t even close to lunch. I wonder why I’m here right now since I didn’t come out of will. I don’t notice anything out of the norm.
“Mick. Mickkkk. MICK!”
A hand waves in my face, getting my attention. I look to my side, seeing the principal telling me to come in. I’m only able to barely read his lips, unfortunately I don’t get everything he says. Even if I hear his words with my Cochlear Implant and Hearing Aid, they’re often still mumbled. I walk into his office and see my parents sitting down.
I ask with a thick deaf accent, “What are you guys doing here?”
My mom turns her attention to me. She looks annoyed but my dad seems disappointed. Making out the best I can with lipreading, my mom yells something about not being able to understand why I ‘can’t do better?’ She thinks I should just focus on getting better grades and ignore the people who are bullying me. It’s a guess but I’m pretty sure I’m right because this is the same thing my mom says to me each time I transfer to another school. I do wish that this time is different and easy, but it isn’t. If I counted it right, this is my 4th or 5th time transferring to another school. I think about why my parents didn’t let me get what I needed to hear until after I finished my second year of preschool or why they refused to believe that there is something ‘wrong’ with me. Now they accepted that I needed a hearing aid and cochlear implant, they believed that would fix everything but it didn’t. The teachers still wanted to talk to them about what else they could do for me, only my parents didn’t want to hear it.
My dad thinks everything is a scam and that this isn’t any different. “The doctors only want money. They’re no better than thieves.” My mom always internally breaks down each time a question is asked, relating to my hearing loss. She thinks I don’t notice, but I can easily see the disbelief in her eyes.
The first time I moved schools, I was in 1st grade. I moved again in 3rd and 4th grade. I lived in the same house but I moved schools every time at the suggestion of getting any extra help and bullying started. From the get go, I’m bullied by the other kids. I’d be even lucky if bullying starts a week after I begin a new school and I could slip in unnoticed but that never happens and after the first two or three days, the other students start to bully me. I don’t know why the teachers don’t take steps to help me. Either they don’t see it when it’s happening, don’t care to help me, want to help me but have no idea how, or aren’t paying attention. Either way, it's always up to me and what am I supposed to do? I’m just a kid, I can’t do things adults are able to do. At home, it's no different, my parents act like my hearing loss isn’t a real thing. When I ask them to repeat what I didn’t hear, they don’t. When I ask them to face me, they don’t. When I ask them to put closed captions on the tv, they don’t. Thankfully, I have a younger sibling who admires me and wants to help in any shape and form. If I don’t get what people say or hear conversations, she tries her best to understand what the talking is about and repeat it back to me. If I can’t understand that they are talking about something nearby, she will point at the context clues I need. If I try to talk or say something, she will help other people understand me. When we talk to each other, we always face each other. When I was younger, she helped me find closed captions on TV. When we found closed captions on tv, it was like a lifesaver to me. I could finally understand TV. Unfortunately, she’s 5 years younger than me, and a kindergartner can only help a fifth grader so much. Except, I'm the older sister and I’m the one who is supposed to
show her what life’s about. I’m grateful for what she gives me as a sibling, I just wish I got the same care from my parents.
After my parents were done ‘talking’, more like yelling at the principal, my mom drags me to the car. I become confused, wanting to know what’s going on. When I see my dad open the door, I realize that I’m going home.
When we get into the car, I ask my mom, “Why are we going home? Why can’t you help me get better at my hearing? Why not have me do the best I can with all the help I need?” I am pushed to my limit of staying quiet and yell out the courage that was hiding. “A teacher was trying to help me this time!”
“Because you don’t need any help! We have already gotten your hearing devices for you to hear, you have to do the work yourself!” My mom yells at me.
I go to say, “But–”
However, my dad interrupts me, “Mick! Don’t disrespect your mother! Stop acting like you need all this attention! You were doing fine until you decided to cause problems at all of your previous schools! What’s your problem with not being the center of attention? Life is not fair! You can’t expect life to give you everything you want!”
I get frustrated, “I know, that’s why I need help with–”
My dad shouts even louder, “Stop it! You don’t need to be the center of attention every single moment of your life! We gave you help when you needed it! With your stupid hearing problem!”
My mom sighs at the conflict, “Mick, when we get home, I want you to go to your room and think about what you have done today.”
I sigh with annoyance as I sit back in my seat and the car drives off. Always again, they decide to send me to a new school.”
While my parents file the paperwork and sign me up for another school, I get to hang out with my dog and sister. It’s always fun and I wish I could spend every minute with them. Life would be way much better, but a week later, I’m at my new school. If my parents believed another school was the solution, they were so unbelievably wrong.
I get the classic looks, such as the awkward interactions or people gasping at me like I’m a monster. On my way to math class, I trip over someone’s foot and land on my stomach. I turn to look back at a boy who is laughing, mimicking my hearing devices and acting like he doesn't know a single thing when he pulls his hands away from his ears. His friends laugh alongside him. Girls in the hallways gawk at me like I am an alien but I get myself back up. I try to ignore anybody who shows the mocking behaviors as I head into math class.
I try to find a seat up front and I do. I go to sit in it when a girl pushes me off, I fall on my butt.
“This seat’s taken, idiot!” The girl mocks me. “Guess what! Find your own seat!” She waves me off. I look around, seeing the last available seat all the way in the back corner. I know that sitting in the back makes it harder for me to hear, especially with lip-reading. But at the time, I never spoke up for myself. Maybe things would have changed earlier if I had. But I was afraid people would make fun of me for being different and I already felt singled out everywhere I stepped foot into.
I put my backpack down as I sat in my seat. I pull out my phone, go to the music app and listen to music. Technology is always up my alley. Even if I don’t know my own language that well, I always memorize technology. Technology is quick to understand, it doesn’t require hearing, it requires visuals. I click on a song, turning the volume all the way up. A neighbor taps me on my shoulder, and points at my phone. Did I forget to connect the bluetooth? I go into my settings and turn on the bluetooth, connecting my hearing devices. I go back to listening to my music, tapping my foot along the beat. I bounce my pencil against my desk. Music has always been soothing, no matter what I go through. I stare down below at my feet, falling into the music. I lose track of time, and perhaps reality, when the teacher snatches my phone out of my hands and slams it on my desk.
“I’ve told you one time! I shouldn’t have to repeat myself again!” the teacher screeches at me. “What? You're pretending you can’t hear me or something?” I stare in confusion, unsure of what to do next. Teachers are always tricky for me to figure out, especially when I get into trouble with no knowledge of what I did wrong and when I don’t know their lip movement. The teacher continued to shout, “Stop acting like you don’t understand what I’m saying!” Everybody oohs at me, but before anything else can get worse, the bell rings.
The last class of the day arrives, it is English. I get there 10 minutes late and the available seat is once again in the back. Throughout the entire day, I never figured out where my classes were before the bell rang. Kids were either judging or mocking me whenever I asked. Teachers are no help either because they’re too busy preparing for their next class. Nobody bothers to help me. Walking towards the back, people are whispering. I pull my seat out, however the same girl from math class before puts her feet on it.
I look at the girl. “Can you please move your feet?”
“What’s that? I can’t hear you through your gibberish voice and your broken ears.” The girl taunts me.
The English teacher shouts, “That’s enough, Anna! Put your feet down so you can let Mick sit in her seat!” Everybody oohs at Anna.
Anna quietly obeys as she takes her feet off. “Ok, Mrs. Hazelwish.”
I sit in my seat as Mrs. Hazelwish starts the class lesson. I’m surprised. A teacher actually stood up for me. Usually when they want to help, they do it behind closed doors or they don’t attempt to help me out in front of anybody. I wonder why this teacher decided to help me in front of everybody? Is she having a good day? Does she dislike Anna? Is it because she noticed I’m Hard-of-Hearing? What makes her different from everybody else?
After the bell rings for school dismissal, everybody leaves. I’m the only one here with Mrs. Hazelwish. She sits at her desk, which is right by the door. I’m about to go out the door when she gets my attention by waving her hand. I turned my attention to her.
Mrs. Hazelwish asks out of curiosity, “You have hearing loss, correct?” I hear her say something, but I can’t make it out. “Can you—give me a second.” I remember her going through her desk like she’s looking for something specific or that she gets a light bulb moment. She closes the drawer. “Shoot, I don’t have any post-it notes.” Giving a nervous face, Mrs. Hazelwish seemed like she had this idea that might or might not work. Using visual language, she signs to me, “You hear me can?” I look at her in confusion, then at my hands wondering if I could ever do the same thing.
That is pretty cool, being able to use the language of the hands. Mrs. Hazelwish looks at me like she’s wondering if it even worked. I look at the whiteboard behind her. I go up to the board and I realize that I might understand my own language of words from over the years but she probably won’t. Still, I take out a marker and write on the board as best as I can, “Goat here word old-nee sound {don’t hear words, only sounds}.” Mrs. Hazelwish tries to figure out what I wrote.
She writes back on the board, “Can you understand reading? What about writing or spelling? Hearing? Talking? Do you have hearing loss?” I communicate back when she hands me back the marker, using arrows and writing either “Yes”, “i”, “Maybe?”. I write yes to reading, hearing and having hearing loss, no to writing and talking, maybe to spelling and hearing. I look back at Mrs. Hazelwish after I give my answers. Mrs. Hazelwish writes on the board, “You can leave now, I just wanted to get to know you a little bit.” I leave the room, leaving Mrs. Hazelwish to herself. What I didn’t know was she had a single blank post-it note on the desk.
2 weeks later, my parents are at school for a meeting. I see them in the middle of the day when they walk into the office. I assume it’s with my English teacher since there was a sub for our class that day but they don’t tell me anything. When I got home that day, both of my parents were complaining about the meeting, saying as such I didn't really need that much help or if I did get help, people would treat me as some mentally ill kid that had something wrong. Their voices are loud enough to hear from the living room that I can make out words better than I usually do. They think an IEP or any public special education is a scam for teachers to get more money. Let me tell you, they really do NOT like teachers who “want to help”, according to them.
That night, I’m lying in bed with my dog chilling next to me. Playing with his hair, I wonder if life would have been easier if I didn't have hearing loss. Sometimes it’s an advantage. Whenever I don’t want to hear anything, especially during the night, I take out my devices. It was like having a superpower. But everything else? I guess I wish there weren’t any other problems to deal with. Why can’t I be hearing in the first place? It would have gotten rid of every problem I ever had.
In spite of the meeting, I didn't get transferred. A month goes by, the last bell rings as the school day comes to an end. As usual, I stay in the classroom when everybody leaves. I never like walking out when everybody is still there, it gives them a chance to do their usual mocking. Right before I leave, Mrs. Hazelwish waves at me for my attention.
She writes on the board, “Did you understand everything clearly today? Was there anything you still don't understand?”
“Donut {don’t} understand prompt.” I write.
Mrs. Hazelwish writes again, “This might help you → You know what a TOD is? Teacher of Deaf?” I shake my head. “TOD = Teacher of Deaf,” Going below that sentence, “A specialized teacher who comes on certain days of the week to help you in your required IEP goals.” Mrs. Hazelwish draws an arrow from the word, ‘IEP’. “Do you know what it is?” Once again, I shake my head. “IEP stands for Individual Education Plan. A plan that is designed only for you and meant to serve your education in the best way possible.” Drawing another arrow, “Have you ever had an IEP?”
I say, “Maybe? I donut {don’t} know.” Luckily, Mrs. Hazelwish manages to understand me through my deaf accent.
Mrs. Hazelwish makes her voice a little bit clearer for understanding, “Is it okay if you meet her one day next week? I want to see if she can help you in areas where I can’t fully help with. She would also have more time to help you then I ever did, it will be one-on-one. I told her all about you and how you are such a good student to have. I also told her that if you have all of the skills required, you would be one of the best students in the school building. I can tell from your personality.”
I write on the board, “How do you know her?” I hand her the marker, letting her take it.
She writes back, “She’s one of my good friends. I think you would enjoy having her as a teacher. If you don’t like her or don’t like having a TOD, we can figure something else out. Either way, we would have to get your parents involved when it comes to taking the next step and beyond.” She puts the marker down, turning to face me. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I think you will really like her. There’s something about her that will make you instantly relate to her. I’ll let you find out what that is for yourself.”
Getting the spark of hope from Mrs. Hazelwish and the upcoming Teacher of the Deaf, I begin to get excited for what the changed future holds for me.
If I didn’t have Mrs. Hazelwish, I would have never ended up where I am today. But that is just the bare beginning of my story. One step doesn’t make everything else happen. You have to keep taking steps in order to get to where your desired life is. I had to go through struggles to just pass the first checkpoint of my desired life.
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