Poem By A Deaf Five Year Old
"I like to smell the flowers.
I like to touch the trees,
I like to see the birds,
Fly in the breeze.
I cannot hear the trees
Or the birds
Or the breeze.
But they are lovely.
Lovely as can be.
I found this one the inside cover of my kindergarten journal. I was diagnosed with hearing loss in kindergarten and faced severe discrimination. I remember chanting the first part to myself all throughout elementary school as a reminder that I was capable of enjoying, doing, and experiencing things in my own way -- regardless of what anyone said. I had forgotten the second part.
A year after writing this, I was s*xually assaulted and r*ped by fifth and sixth graders. The teachers turned a blind eye, because helping a 'disabled brat' was 'above their paygrade'. I've spent the rest of my life suffering from PTSD.
I was an early reader, but the teachers insisted I was stupid due to my Deaf accent. They told me that if I couldn't speak correctly, I shouldn't speak at all. That my voice was a distraction to the class since everyone would make fun of how I pronounced things when I answered questions in school. I still raised my hand, because I loved to learn. The teachers would scold me for it -- accusing me of trying to sabotage other students' learning by distracting them with my deaf accent.
In the midst of class where I wasn't allowed to speak due to my disability, I wrote this poem in my notebook.
It feels only right that I post it now and give back the voice to that little girl who was so desperate to be considered as worthy as her peers of answering the questions on the whiteboard.
Let her speak and maybe someday she'll be heard.
