Why I am not designed for the Pub Quiz

So, the time has come for another deaf-related moan.

 I've never liked doing a Pub Quiz, ever. Every little part of my body grimaces at the thought. Those horrible words 'Do you want to do the pub quiz with us?' which when answered with a resounding NO, turns into 'but we need you' and 'we promise to help interpret the questions for you'.

 Let me just get one thing clear. Even with 'help' there is a hundred billion other places in the world that I would rather be. Can you imagine, sitting in a pub with your friends/family crowded around a piece of paper, a voice muttering something over the sounds of the TV, excited chattering and muttering from the other tables and clinking glasses (not that I hear these sounds but I'm sure sub-consciously its all there). OK so I've managed to make it sound like great fun, add some alcohol in and yes you're in for a good night. So what's my problem?


My problem is, I can't hear. I can't hear the voice muttering the questions no matter how loudly or slowly they repeat the questions. Unless he is physically in front of me I cannot hear.
 Once the question has been asked, everyone goes into 'thinking mode'. Even my designated interpreter (who lipspeaks the question). It is then impossible for them to give you the question with a decent amount of personal thinking time before the next question. It is impossible to get the interpreted question clear enough because moving your lips without speaking is the hardest thing to do without any idea of context. The question could be about Chile, or how many races a horse does before retiring, or what do these colours mean when all together? The point is, how am I supposed to work it out from lots of very similar lip-patterns? You could be saying turtles and I interpret daughter. You could be saying drink and I think read.


 So when the question has finally been relayed to me, bearing in mind all the effort that it took just to get a single question - I don't even know the answer! It's like running a marathon but you packed the wrong shoes, but you run anyway, and you run and run but you just can't get to the finish line because you've no energy left and you're wearing the wrong shoes, so heavy, so unfulfilled.


 That's not the end though. You've now got to lipread or somehow interpret what everyone is muttering to each other, 'it could be ....' or 'it could be...' and the annoying 'what do you think?'. Yeah, I have no opinion. I don't know what the heck the question was, or what you think the answer might be because everyones mumbling. OK so you don't want the couple on the next table to overhear but what about the people on your table?


 Don't get me started on the 'come on! think!' comment.


 So forgive me if I seem boring for not even turning up. I know there are things in this world that you don't like doing but you have to do them. But somehow I don't think a pub quiz is one of those and I will never feel as if I'm missing out by not doing them.

Oh dear.. the baby monitors gone!

Hey there everyone!
Long time no posting - I know! It's just I feel I can only really blog here when I have something major to talk about (yeah, not completely what blogging is all about) but there's nothing massively Deaf related going on in my life, which I'm pleased to say actually! But tonight I have come up with something that does have a slight line in that direction.. and probably many parents will be able to relate to this new change I'm experiencing!

Now Freddie is coming up to being 3, we've finally decided to let go of using the baby monitor as the little guy is more than capable of walking and opening doors (he has more than proven this when he was very ill! - which I'm pleased to say he has made a full recovery.. finally!). Non-the-less as a parent this is such a scary thing! It does bring a little worry as to whether I shall hear him if I'm downstairs etc, but I know in my heart he can call and come down un-aided and let me know of any problems.. 2nd night of this and it's successful.. (I still go to grab it once he's in bed to realise he's not using it no more!). It's just showing how independent he is growing and just how much I am able to trust him to come and find me. 
However, in the night my husband does most of the interacting, partly because my hearing aids are out and it's practically impossible to lipread half asleep (I've tried it so many times and have just given up, even my husband gets a 'what?' about 20 times before I get it... my brain, eyes and everything doesn't co-operate when tired!). Also doesn't help that I'm such a deep sleeper, although not so much at the current moment as pregnancy is taking it's toll on my diabetes! (but that's completely going off topic!)
So yeah, he's growing up so quick now.. And I have to admit when the husband said 'Do we really need the baby monitor plugged in anymore? We hardly need or use it really, do we?' I instantly was like 'BUT.. WHAT!?' but like he said we hardly need it and until #2 comes around we really don't need it - It's just like having your safety blanket taken away from you for the mean time! I'll only need it in the evenings and during naptimes with #2, so it's not a massive loss at the moment.. (But it's still scary right?!)

Would love to hear how any of you Deaf parents/friends of Deaf parents coped with or what stories you have heard on this subject! It's always nice to hear about other people's experiences.. means that we don't feel quite isolated in these subjects!

I hope you're all well! :) Ix

Experiencing a Deaf School: By Eleanor

In February 2014 I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to visit a deaf school in London for 7 days. This was almost a milestone in my life because it meant two things:




 1. That I would be living with my cousin, his landlord and another flatmate in a house in London that I'd never been to before.


 2. That I had the exciting opportunity to visit, observe and learn from a deaf school, a school that promotes bilingual philosophy, meaning they teach BSL and English equally.




So, the time rolled around so much quicker than I expected, much like this whole PGCE course. I found myself on the train heading to London. Just to point out, I love London. Whether its intended or not, it has subtitles almost everywhere. On the train, on the tube, on the bus, I didn't have to worry about missing my stop because the electronic information boards reassured me every other minute, subtitling the tannoy for me. The bus stop outside of Kings Cross had writing, just to tell me that there would be a bus in literally 2 minutes of waiting (this is most definitely not the Norfolk Way).


 Wednesday morning I arrived at the school, unsure what to expect. It was a small school, much smaller than anything I had seen before. In the Nursery and Reception there was no more than 6 children in each with 1:1 staff and TAs as-well as the teachers. I almost worried myself into thinking there wouldn't be much to do with all this staff and support, how wrong was I?


 Looking around the school it was very clear how much they promoted and respected their bilingual philosophy, all the displays had English and BSL signs, a good majority of the staff were profoundly deaf themselves, all staff whether hearing or deaf could sign, BSL classes were highly advertised throughout the school. I'd never seen such a school where I could feel so involved and welcomed from day one. Every conversation I could be a part of whether I wanted to or not, there were no hidden agendas, no hidden or lost conversations.
  The children, the beautiful children using their hands to communicate and their open eyes innocently gazing, interpreting and communicating. Their voice, their language, a different world.

Stories were signed to the children, a different perspective, dramatic, intriguing and exciting, a story that could never be portrayed quite the same in English.
 The ones that wore hearing aids or Cochlear Implants quite often made their own little noises, some could talk quite clearly and others were just learning, making sense of their noises, their voice.


 My seven days at the deaf school went by just as quickly as they came. I learnt so much. I learnt about a world where deaf children could grow up and feel as valued and loved as mainstream children do. A world where they could be supported, taught visually, seeing the beauty in the movement of our hands rather than the sound of our voices. I learnt that telling them that I wore hearing aids just like some of them, I was automatically accepted.
I was no longer different, I was the same, the same, the same.

 “Deaf people can do anything, except hear.”

King Jordan (Former President of Gallaudet University)