Jane Must Be A Voodoo Practitioner

Ever since I ran into our very own Tayler Mayer of Deaf Read blogsite last Sunday, I have been thinking about our conversation and how others joined in. We were discussing how strange it was that many of us are suffering headaches, lack of sleep and even back pains that we never had before. We all concurred these symptoms can be dated back to the start of the Gallaudet protests. Last night, I remembered something that I learned in my cultural anthropology class a few years back, and I had to go back to my old files to look it up. Here we go:

Certain syndromes (illnesses) has a phenomenology resembling many culture-bound (culture-specific) syndromes described in the anthropological literature. Syndromes can be an appropriate symbolic representation of conflicting societal expectations of certain peoples within a society. By simultaneously denying certain peoples' right OR alternative, syndromes translates role conflict into a standardized cultural illness. Thus, despite obvious biopsychological determinants, certain syndromes can be best understood as a sociocultural phenomenon illustrating both the special status of certain peoples and culture-specific in its own backyard.

Huh? I know. Let's put our headaches, lack of sleep and backaches into a new term: Deaf Tension Syndrome (DTS). Let's re-write the paragraph above and see how it comes out:

Deaf Tension Syndrome (DTS) has a phenomenology resembling many culture-bound (culture-specific) syndromes described in the anthropological literature. DTS is an appriopriate symbolic representation of conflicting societal expectations of Deaf people within a society. By simultaneously denying Deaf peoples' rights, DTS translates role conflict into a standardized cultural illness. Thus, despite obvious biopsychological determinants, DTS can be best understood as sociocultural phenomenon illustrating the special status of Deaf people and their culture.

How's this now? I say that Jane stuck a pin into a very special Voodoo Doll called the Deaf World. That is why most of us are suffering from DTS. We have to find a way to undo that pin, or we're stuck with DTS from now on...I shudder from the very thought.

From The Unseen Supporters....

I am writing for those who are unable to participate in the Gallaudet protest or aid Gallaudet protestors: there are many, many more of us Deaf who support the protests wholeheartedly. We are the single parents, the health-afflicted, hard-working folks who cannot leave their jobs and so forth.

I am a CSUN grad student and a single parent of two children. While I never attended Gallaudet,  I have come to love and cherish Gallaudet for what it stands for. In fact, when I was 15 years old and a senior at Delaware School for the Deaf, I got to know the late Roy Holcomb (yes, the father of Tom Holcomb and grandfather of the Holcomb girls involved in the protest!) when he was the superintendent. He encouraged me to try MSSD, so I took the test. Unfortunately, the results of the test said I was ready to enter Gallaudet as a freshman. I was stunned! My mother and I went to visit Gallaudet, and it was the first time I ever saw Gallaudet College (as it was called in those days) - I cannot tell you what magic that was, that day - October 10th, 1975.....for some reason, Gallaudet snuck into my heart, and I was in love forever. Sadly, because of my age, my family did not want  to let me attend.

However, over the years, I'd go to Gallaudet and see friends, even illegally stayed in Peet Hall with friends, danced at Ole Jim and had drinks in the Rathskellar.  I'd attend plays and conferences. The most recent visit was to attend the sign language studies conference on campus last March. For some reason, I was startled to see a change. Gallaudet wasn't entirely what it was before. I talked with some grad students and old friends there, who told me of changes at Gallaudet that had to do with a certain individual. I thought that was bad news, as if it was an omen of things to come.

Sigh.....the omen came true in May. I could not believe my eyes, and I was so torn apart because I couldn't just pull stakes and GO! Still cannot. A friend of mine, who is seriously health-afflicted, despairs of not being able to fly out and be a part of the protests. Another has a big family to support and barely makes ends meet, he almost cries out for the protestors and their safety. My Deaf neighbor, who is from Mexico, recently asks me about what is this, the mess - I tell her, and she says: Of course! We must help! I ask her how? She looks at me sadly - she cannot help, for she takes care of her son's children while her son and his wife work every day. She can't read and write very much, either. Sigh.....

So,  there are really many more supporters like us. Our hearts bleed for Gallaudet and what it stands for. Go, Gallaudet FSSA, go!

The Magical Gala

By the time I was ready for the Gala, I walked towards the Rotes Rathaus. There had been a terrible accident the night before, in which a crane toppled over and damaged four or five cars - this was next door to the hotel. I stopped by, fascinated by the work men were doing to get the crane off the cars and clean up the mess. I wasn't the only one, there were many along with me. However, I did feel silly being one of the few in a fancy dress! Soon I caught up with two Deaf Japanese, and we three arrived at the Rotes Rathaus, a huge 1869 red-brick architecture. This building had a very interesting history: from 1869 to 1948, it was for the Berlin City Government. In 1948 it was used for the East Berlin government, and after the reunification of Germany in 1991, it went back to its original use: the Berlin City Government.

There were two guards outside the front, massive doors.  They allowed us to enter, and oh my.....its grand splendor hits you like a fan. There was a huge staircase right in the center leading up to where the Gala was being held - gold paint everywhere, paintings, statues - almost like the Versailles splendor, but less bright. We walked up, our eyes absorbing the splendor in.  There were more of us there already, where they had the bar and the buffet table. The main hall where the Gala was being held wasn't ready yet, and in about 10 minutes we were allowed in. Such a fascinating room of the past: beautiful rust colored walls with off cream borders, along with touches of gold. On one wall, there was a huge painting - beautiful painting of soliders, probably early 19th century.

Many of us looked for our names, and I sat at a table at the very end of room. I realized I wouldn't be able to see the speakers or the magician show very clearly, but I was fortunate to meet some very interesting people at the table. I knew this Deaf Iranian from Canada, Ali Behmanesh, who is involved with the Deaf History International group and had seen him all week with another fellow. Well, much to my shock, it turned out we all had assumed that this fellow hanging out with Ali was also Iranian like Ali. Ooops, we were wrong! This very nice fellow was actually from Saudi Arabia!!!

Mark Zaurov came on stage and gave a short speech - he did mention the importance of the painting, but I did not have pen and paper handy! Shoot! He also thanked everybody and wanted us to enjoy our meal....so, we had our dinner. Meanwhile, there was an incredible magic show going on - unfortunately I could not see clearly enough. Uzi Bazgalo went on stage to say thank you to Zaurov for his work with Deaf Jews on the behalf of the Deaf survivors, and handed Zaurov an original Uzi Bazgalo painting. One could see that Zaurov was touched.

Meanwhile, I truly enjoyed my evening with thanks to the Saudi Arabian fellow. We discussed a great many things: culture differences, religious differences, college life and all that. I learned much more about his culture - Saudi Arabia, and even his religion - Islam. Fascinating! Also, I realized how important it was to learn the culture and ways of another: when he mentioned how much he wanted a cup of hot tea, I could see in his face that he was serious. His culture did not allow for the wine and beer being served freely at the Gala, and I realized that next time there was a conference; we need to respect others' cultures by adding one or two more items if their culture doesn't allow for them to have certain items. We encouraged him to think about having a DHI conference in Saudi Arabia, because we do need to include more Deaf people of color. He smiled big. That was great to see.

Thus ended the DHI conference week, on a very high mark! I was truly happy that this conference ended with an almost-magical like evening, that lasted into the wee hours of the morning.

A Heartfelt Apology

Bernard Mottez n'est pas mort ! Je dois m'excuser auprès de Bernard Mottez : Je suis très désolé que j'ai pensé vous étiez mort. C'est mon défaut. Je suis très heureux que vous êtes bon.

In translation: Bernard Mottez is not dead! I must apologize to Bernard Mottez: I am very sorry that I thought you were dead. It is my fault. I am very happy you are okay.

I recieved word from a very reputable source that people were surprised to hear about Mottez on my blog, and because Paddy had a candle, I assumed he meant that the person was gone. Bonk me on my head for that, and I did not realize it was a cultural difference that caused me to think otherwise.

A Trip to the Israelitische Taubstummenanstalt

Soon after lunch it was time to board the double-decker bus, two of them in fact, for the trip to Israelitische Taubstummenanstalt, the Jewish school for the Deaf they had been talking about in the lectures - known as ITA - Berlin. Many of us excitedly boarded and chatted away on what seemed like a long trip towards the East Berlin area. We noticed the drab, tall apartment buildings and even noticed some logos of Lenin still on the walls. It was a strange feeling, especially when this afternoon turned cloudy and misty. We went wow when the bus drivers expertly navigated their way on those itty bitty streets. At one navigating point Mark Zaurov got out of the bus and made a speech - he was showing us what buildings we would see very soon.

Finally we reached the building that housed ITA - Berlin - a gorgeous, red-brick four story architecture. From the bus everyone could see this beautiful red-marble plaque honoring the 146 Jewish Deaf who were murdered in camps. I wished I videotaped what happened next: many of us made a beeline for that plaque like a herd of cattle, and Deaf German Harald Weickert told wonderful stories about the plaque as well as something about the old farm across the street. Mark Zaurov rushed in, with a big smile - he told Harald we can come back, but we need to start the tour now in the back of the school.

We went around the back to see this lovely playground, grassy area and a gazebo. There were chairs and benches set up for us to sit on, and Zaurov started by introducing this nice hearing German woman, who is currently the director of a school for children who are mentally retarded and other disabilities. She started by telling us the history about ITA - Berlin, when the East German government gave her this building for her school. She did not know the building's history, but knew it was a school a long time ago. She smiled, looking at Israel Savir - she said she was so excited when Israel Savir came to visit three years ago and told her all about ITA - Berlin. She said it was like the walls came alive! She said this building serves a very important reminder, and that after Israel finishes his speech we would be allowed to tour this school.

Israel Savir stood up and came forward for his speech. He came to this school in 1927 and stayed there until 1936. He explained that the school was missing a wing, destroyed by the bombing of Berlin in 1945 - but fortunately the major part of the school was still there. It was as if Israel was there yesterday: he pointed out where the dining hall was, along with the boys and girls dorms, the classrooms, the washrooms, the principal's office, the carpentry room and so forth. When Israel talked about the carpentry room, he talked about this Deaf German who taught carpentry because he was not Jewish. The Deaf Germans got excited because they knew who Israel was talking about! Israel explained about the school so methodically: going from the basement to the very top floor, which only had three rooms. I could visualize the Deaf children going to classes, eating and playing. Israel went on about the back of the school: where they played, what they did including Physical Education. One participant asked Israel what the regular schedule was like, and Israel answered: "We'd get up at six o'clock, get ready by washing our faces and brushing our teeth. We'd make our beds, and put on our clothes. Breakfast was at eight o'clock, and our school started at nine o'clock. We had lunch break at one, and I remember our lunches were very small - just a glass of milk and a slice of bread. Then we'd play and return to classes. We'd play more, and have dinner at 6. We went to bed at 9:00 p.m." There were more questions for Israel about the school, and someone asked him how old he was - he didn't want to say, but then someone else knew his age - 85 years old! Israel added that the Deaf children who went to this school came from all over Europe, not just Germany, which was why there were so many Deaf Jewish children at this particular school.

Then Zaurov told us it was time to tour the school, but in three groups. We formed in three groups, and the first one went in. I was in the second, and we went in this narrow stairway towards the second floor. It was quite beautiful inside, and obviously the school has been renovated, but its classrooms and other rooms remain the same in size - tall ceilings as well as having wood floors. I could imagine what it was like in the past, with darker walls - the walls now were cream-colored, and the desks are all modern. It was such an odd feeling for me walking along its halls, because I suddenly realized this was where the 146 Deaf Jewish children were, all taken away by Nazis to be put in camps. I shivered.

After we finished the tour, we were now going to the Holocaust memorial, where I had gone with Jochen's group the previous Monday. This time we visited the museum beneath the blocks and the uneven sidewalks - this museum is very much like the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. and the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles, but much smaller in scale. After we finished going through the museum, we came up for Zaurov's short speech explaining about the blocks, just as Jochen had explained the previous Monday. Then he gave the floor to Rabbi Fred Friedman, who said a prayer that was quite fitting for this moment.

We made it just on time, at six o'clock as there was a contract with the buses to return us by six! We only had a hour and half to get ready for the Gala, the "black tie" dinner at the Rotes Rathaus (The Red House) - we had seen this building on the way to ITA - Berlin. The Gala will be the "more to come" next in this continuing report of the DHI conference.