Text Messaging Dilemma

Last summer, when I mentioned to a Non-Deaf classmate in my Conversational ASL class that I don’t have text messaging enabled on my cell phone, her response was, “And you want to work in a field working with the Deaf?” At the time, I did not understand the role text messaging played in the life of a Deaf person. In fact, it never occurred to me at all until I started taking ASL classes, how does a deaf person call roadside service if their car breaks down in the desert? (This actually happened to my ASL1 teacher, who is Deaf.)

My cell phone, aside from making phone calls, has many of the bells and whistles that enable the Deaf to process the world in ways never imagined not that long ago. To name a few, I have applications such as Google maps, web access, e-mail access, and text messaging capabilities. However, the latter, is not included in my monthly phone plan. I observe non-Deaf students or friends text message during a class lecture or while gathered for dinner with friends. To me, their behavior removes them from the current conversation or environment. But, for the Deaf, text messaging is the opposite from isolation—it allows them to connect with others in their world.

How does wireless devices fit into Deaf Culture? Before, the Deaf (and some still) use TTYs, VideoPhones and similar technology, and/or Video Relay Service. Text messaging, exchanging brief written messages via a phone, has changed the way Deaf communicate. While text messaging wasn’t created for the Deaf, access to it has enhanced their lives.

What would Alexander Graham Bell think of his invention today?

Gray Matters

I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said once a week someone makes a comment about my (gray) hair. It’s interesting when a stranger says something to me. Sometimes they’ll be complimentary, and other times, I’m told, from a stranger no less, that I should dye my hair.

Along with the comments about my hair, I now notice the hair color of people my age and older, regardless of gender. I’m actually a little embarrassed to be flaunting my roots when I see ninety-year-old women still covering up their roots. It’s common for men to have gray in their hair. However, for women it’s different. We are suppose to hide it--“Does she or doesn’t she?”

In 2007, during the Thanksgiving holidays my hairdresser had to change my appointment. I was having my roots dyed monthly, but, realistically, I needed to have it done every three weeks. By the fourth week, I was doing a serious comb-over.

So, it was my fourth week and my appointment was rescheduled for after Thanksgiving, which meant I spent the holiday feeling very self-conscious about my roots and doing my best comb-over. It was during this time I saw the ridiculous amounts of gray I was hiding and decided to surrender. Why fight it?

My hair grows about half an inch each month. Depending on how I wear my hair, either I’m covered completely in gray (pulled back in a high ponytail), or it’s straight down and most of the gray is in front.

Some of my dearest friends tell me to cover my roots. They tell me it ages me. But, I am old. I’m proud of it. It certainly beats the alternative. Something happens in our forties. We work hard to be respected and taken seriously, and then fifty comes along and we’re ashamed to show our age? Not I!!!

About a month ago, I was chatting with a dance sister at Starbucks. A man interrupted our conversation to say that when he saw me he wanted to tell me how beautiful I was. Whoa, awkward moment! Yet, it’s those moments that make me smile, knowing that it’s okay to show your roots and be who you are.