deaf superpower: Missing Out

The other side of being hyper-observant is missing out. I know that *something* is going on, but unless I get the scoop, I miss out on the details.

This is an odd take, but I stand by it: I missed a lot as a kid (still do as an adult), and a lot of it was worth missing.

Whispers? Rumors? Gossip? Missed most of that shit. 

I was never in the know, never up to speed on the lingo, trend, story, whatever was traveling along hushed whispers and mumbled stories at the lunch table. And I was better for it. 

Ignorance was bliss. I didn’t know if someone was laughing at me or the dork next to me. Thank God. We were all dorks, anyway.

I didn’t have access to the *DRAMAAAA* and therefore didn’t get drowned in the drama. My childhood was fairly drama-free.

Even as a teenager, the edge was shaved off by my lack of access to the underground of shenanigans. My parents, undoubtedly, did not mind.

A few years ago my high school graduating class celebrated our 20 year anniversary. I couldn't make the reunion, but enjoyed seeing the current and "throwback" pictures that everyone posted in our Facebook group. 

But it was kinda hard to look at sometimes. So many pictures were of parties and gatherings that I most definitely was *not* invited to. I saw groups of folks that were friends, hanging out at someone's house. But I wasn't there. 

Some were from my senior year when I was indeed, not there. (I had moved with my family- but then I came back to graduate- it was weird but it worked.) But many were from the years that I was most certainly around.

I'll be honest, I felt sad about this, like, why wasn't I invited?! But I think part of the answer is that I wasn't clued in. I didn't connect to the undercurrent of whatever was happening, so I missed the organic process of knowing where the hang out was. 

Also I was a churchy girl, so they probably assumed I wasn't interested. At the time, this was mostly true. It was a good thing I didn't go to those parties. I would've hated every minute and been super awkward about it.

I went through my wild stage in seminary, which was a much better age and group to be wild with. (Seriously, the BEST parties.)

Here's the thing, I didn't know I missed the parties until about 20 years later. I would have been devastated at the time to know how much I was missing out. 

What a delightful gift, to only learn I was left out when I am emotionally capable of processing the fact. The parties I was not invited to were hosted by people I wasn't that close to, it was not any real betrayal or conspiracy. 

All I really missed out on was the drama.

Why didn't I even know about the parties? Parties are whispered about. For me: whispers are indiscernible, even with hearing aids. 

If you have ever whispered anything to me in my entire life and I “understood," I was absolutely faking it. I didn’t hear and have learned not to care. Most whispers are not that important.

Quick tutorial on etiquette for deaf and hard-of-hearing folks. If we missed it and say “what?” and you say “nevermind,” or “it wasn’t that important,” we immediately hate dislike you. It’s so dismissive. 

By saying "nevermind" you’re deciding whether we are worthy to have access to what you said. Even if it IS stupid, you said it, so we deserve to decide for ourselves how dumb it is. 

If you continually whisper and mumble important things, we stop hanging out with you. It’s just way too much work. I thought about making this paragraph less bitchy but decided against it.

You know what else I missed out on? 

Most of the dialogue in movies and TV shows. Without captioning, it's truly a guess at 75% of what people are saying. I am *not* your go-to for pop-culture trivia. 

My lack of access to closed captioning meant that misogyny and racism in television and movies was muted. Not a miss. 

SO many sexualized jokes and innuendos that I missed not only because of my naivety, but because I literally didn’t hear it. 

Same with racist comments or homophobic comments, I missed so much of that. I’m not saying I missed racism, homophobia, and sexism altogether, I’m just saying I didn’t get as much as my hearing friends.

I missed some good stuff, I’m sure, but so much of the noise out there is pure noise, and I’m OK with missing a mountain of it. 

Here's a good story of missing out: my great-grandfather, August, grew up in Berlin, Germany and had a sledding accident when he was a child. He broke his leg so severely that he was bed-ridden for months. During that time he read books to keep himself occupied. 

August became a journalist. His broken leg healed slowly, it was a good inch or two shorter than the other. This mild handicap disqualified him from serving in either world war. His journalism career, however, allowed him to get out of Germany (although he did get stuck in Amsterdam under Nazi rule), and eventually to the US with a job at a newspaper. 

I say those were good misses. All because of a short leg.

Growing up, I also spent lots of time reading. My cleverness with words and editing is probably at least partly a result of my deafness. If I wasn’t deaf, would I want to spend hours in silence with a book that was my easiest access to stories? Not sure, but it makes me wonder.

Sometimes missing out on stuff is a good thing. I'm grateful for my deaf superpower of missing out. I don't catch all the drama. I don't shoulder all the needless worrying of details that don't really concern me.

I'm also used to not getting the whole story. FOMO does not have a hold on me because I've been MO all my life. No fear of it here. That's freedom for me.

Did you miss anything that may have contributed to who you are today? It’s fun to wonder. 

deaf superpower: Observant as hell

When I call out, name, and highlight the superpowers that come from my disabilities, misfortunes, and otherwise; I am NOT saying that these are born out of a purpose. 

I am not saying that God (universe, whatever) gave me a jacked up spine, mental illness, deafness, and a uterus SO THAT I would have these superpowers. I do not think that I am deaf because God needed me to learn a lesson, or to teach a lesson to one of you.

I haven’t solved the theological conundrum of why shit happens yet. 

Here’s where I am at the moment: being human comes with pain and suffering, joy and love, and a crap ton of imperfections. 

The only sure reason I know that I am deaf is because my parents both have a recessive gene for nerve deafness and I had a 1 in 4 chance of having the recessive gene from both sides come to full expression. (Yay punnet square!) 

Cause and effect: I won the deaf lottery.

You may believe your imperfections were given to you as a purpose. That's OK! Whatever belief helps you fully embrace and love yourself is the one that helps. Just don’t get hung up on it. 

We do not need to understand the theology behind our imperfections to come to terms with them and glean our superpowers.  

Now let's move to superpowers.

I am deaf (lower case because I don’t know sign and didn’t grow up in the deaf culture).

I was talking to my child the other day without my hearing aids in and he said: "Wow! You sound really different!!” 

I sound deaf. Because I am. 

For so long I’ve tried to be normal, blend in, present myself as a hearing person (with lots and lots of help). But now I’m realizing that my deaf voice- THAT is my voice. 

As I embrace my deaf identity, I can finally recognize my deaf superpowers.

One of my deaf superpowers is: I am observant as hell. 

Deaf people lean on their visual observation to fill in the missing auditory gaps. We read lips, body language, eyebrows, and I swear there’s a sixth sense for some of us. We need all the help we can get, so we become experts at reading our visual (and vibe?) clues. 

Here’s a fun trick I have: I can often tell what accent a speaker has in a muted video. It's automatic, I'm not *trying* to figure it out. I just watch the video on mute, and the voice that plays in my head has an accent. Voila!

My observation superpower makes me pretty amazing at a lot of things. Sometimes I might know what you're feeling before you do. Our bodies often speak before our brains compute.

My older sister is a therapist, and she is also deaf (she won the deaf lottery too). She is realizing the superpower that her hearing loss has been in her career as a therapist. 

Can you imagine having a therapist who can see through your bullshit within seconds? Scary, but helpful! 

It takes years of training and practice to get to the top of your game in reading body language, but as a deaf therapist, she has been amazing at that since the beginning. She has a *lifetime* of hyper-observation practice to glean from. Add a master’s degree and over a decade of experience, and she is one bad ass therapist. 

She gave a talk at a recent online gathering of therapists, encouraging them to find their own superpowers:

I have a superpower. I am ninja quick with microexpressions. It’s how I’ve survived my entire life... My attunement and ability to move in quickly - I contribute that to being hearing impaired... I hear with my eyes.  

-Kelly Bourque, LMFT, owner of Red Therapy group

See what I’m saying? Superpower. 

I was a hospice chaplain for a handful of years and always worried that my patients would be telling me some deep dark death-bed secret and I’d miss it. Whispers, mutters and mumbles are impossible for me to hear and discern. 

The reality is that most people who are in their last moments do not talk. They look. My observation powers and sixth sense means I often had a feel for what they were looking at. 

One patient had nothing but fear in her eyes. In our previous visits, she told me stories of her life. In her eyes this time: was her dead abusive husband waiting for her on the other side?

Aw hell no. 

I don’t claim to know exactly what happens when we die, but I could say with absolute certainty in her ear as she struggled to release this life for the unknown: 

“You are safe, you are loved, it’s OK to go.” 

Mean-ass husbands are not going to touch you.

She died peacefully that night.

I won't take the credit for her peaceful passing, but my soul tells me I helped by telling her what she needed to hear to let go. 

My intuition is highly developed. I trust my gut as an integral part of my observation tool box.

SUPERPOWER: Observant as hell.

Do you have something “wrong” with you? What’s your superpower hidden underneath? The way you've coped, that's likely made you a master at something. 

Example: Folks who are dyslexic, they are solving complex puzzles EVERY time they read. EVERY time. That's impressive. It's also exhausting. Think about your superpower, and think about the energy you spend doing it. 

It's impressive, but you might need to rest. 

I am hyper-observant, as a skill, but also as a necessity. Large gatherings friggin exhaust me. This is why I nap and take baths. I will not apologize. I just gave a handful of folks my FULL attention for two hours. Nighty-night. (I'll write more about resting later.)

I'm going to keep listing more of my superpowers in the coming blogs. 

I hope you'll start to accept the "imperfect" parts of yourself and discover your superpowers.

Intro: Dafka-energy (exploring my superpowers)

The idea for this blog (and the next few) came to me while I was reading in my bath tub (inspiration portal). 

I was reading “We Should All be Millionaires” by Rachel Rodgers. The section that lit my brain was on the history of women and our lack of access to wealth building opportunities.

It occurred to me that not only are women quite impressive for the success garnered from a limited amount of time (and resources), but *I* am impressive because I am deaf and people with disabilities are also on the list of historically blocked opportunities. 

This epiphany moved me.

I am inspired and determined to be successful. Simply for the sake of having achieved it. 

Quick story: my grandfather's cousin returned to Berlin after WW2. Friends asked why she, a Jewish woman who had lost so much during the Holocaust, had chosen to live in Germany, the author of her misfortunes. 

She said “Dafka!” 

This is a Hebrew term I will loosely translate (her intention) to mean: “Because, fuck them!”

My current energy has a little dafka to it.

I should not succeed. There is plenty about me that says the opposite (and why I have a chance), but as a stereotype, or a statistic, I’m low on the “best chance to succeed” list. 

That makes me ANGRY. 

I am going to use this anger to transcend and transform: dafka. 

There is ABSOLUTELY NO LOGICAL reason why I shouldn't be successful. It’s my uterus and failed nervous system that our inherited systems point to as a sure-fire predictor for mediocrity. 

My "statistical" chances of success are not based on my abilities, but on the failure of the system around me. Our culture, education, and infrastructure are not equipped and cultivated to create successful deaf women. 

Don't I know it.

Folks like me with their own adjectives that don't get full cultivated support of the system, they have to figure out a path to success outside mainstream. 

This makes us badasses. We don't realize it.

History tells us that women (especially women with a disability AND mental illness AND children) should not succeed, CANNOT succeed, and better find herself a good husband. 

At the very least, we should be shocked and amazed when it happens. Newsworthy! Who takes care of the kids?!

I am a deaf millennial descendent of German Jews and mid-west farmers with mental illness and a uterus? And I have two kids? 

Damn, not a good formula.

Well, DAFKA.

I got myself a good husband, and I am on my way to be HIS SUGAR MAMA. Thankyouverymuch.

Imma show this world what I can do. On MY terms, MY rules, MY body, MY super skills, MY compassion, MY generosity, MY empathy, MY love of beauty and FREEDOM. 

MY whole self is fully and completely qualified to build success. 

I am human just like everyone else. I’m also not a millionaire (yet). But I will be. 

Because, dafka.

In the next few blogs I’m going to unpack some superpowers that my disabilities and bad statistical odds have given me.  (I hope you see yours.)

Why tell this story? Because I want to. The bath tub told me to. I also want to shift the mainstream. I want people like me to see themselves as whole, with no caveats. I want to generate space where we have no reason to feel inferior or odd. 

Can you see yourself as a person with superpowers?

I'm going to prove to you that our humanity is not a liability, it’s our superpower. 

Then we can go be our full selves, unrestricted. Successfully.

Get dafka with me.

How to not be an Asshole to your kids

If you're an asshole, they'll be assholes. 

So I came up with this list of how not to be an asshole to your kid. 

Partly to remind myself, partly to feel good about my parenting, and partly to be helpful. You can decide the percentages.

Chores!

1) Be honest.  

Chores suck, don't expect them to love them. You don't, why would they? Commiserate with them and then share the load. 

2) Delegate. 

DO give them chores for the love of God. They will be assholes if they don't learn the essentials of how to be a human and take care of shit and be in community.   

But scale it down from Cinderella to... I don't have a fictional character to point to- but the one Disney should use to show a normal person helping out.

          3) Communicate. 

If your kid is overwhelmed, listen to them and work with them on how to make it manageable. Don't be all overwhelmed yourself and expect them to just handle it like you're (not) handling it. Delegate, communicate, and treat your whole house like a group of humans who are all capable but not servants. Mmkay? Remember - you also have to not be a servant. 

There's actually a lot here in the chores section that I could talk about- but imma move on.

Electronics!

1) Be realistic.

It is actually annoying to work on something for 55 minutes and be two minutes away from the "save and quit" and someone is screaming at you. 

Why are video games made like this? To piss us all off. 

But it's not your fault (unless you design video games- and then I ASK YOU WHY). It's also not your kid's fault. Give like five minute warnings? I don't know. Figure it out. 

Even if you think video games are weird and lame and your parents didn't let you play except for Dr. Mario and Tetris and Super Mario Brothers on your gameboy (just an example)- have some grace and come up with a system that doesn't involve screaming. You know how they say "just a sec!" You do it too. So... work it out. 

This is my least helpful section- I know.

2) Give yourself a break.

Obviously the time of quarantine was a time to throw all the rules out the window as far as screen time. 

If it wasn't for you: dear God honey- go watch ALL of the Lord of the Rings movies (extended version), and the Hobbit movies, and then also the Harry Potter movies. You earned that screen time.

For the rest of us: it's maybe still OK to have less rules. My family watches SO many movies together. Is it lazy? Maybe. Is it fun? Yes. Are the children and adults happy? We are. So I'm not going to be an asshole to myself OR my kids if we want to watch a movie. Call it theatre if you need to feel better about it. 

My main point: the screen time you're stressing about is probably not as bad as you think. 

Emotions!

1) Allow space for it. 

Just because it makes you uncomfortable, doesn't mean they're bad. It's OK if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but don't throw that on your kid. Go be uncomfy in the bath, or outside, something. 

Emotions are part of the essence of being human, so if you try to lock that shit down, you're locking your human down. Don't do that. 

Kid is freaking out over losing their ice sword in the video game? Absolutely that is the lamest thing- BUT- if they can't figure out how to be sad/mad/frustrated and then move on from the ice pick loss- then you got problems in your future. 

2) Don't judge. 

Don't judge the emotion or the reason, just give space for the kid to process the important thing in their life- even if it's not your important thing. 

My sisters are therapists and said that emotions have like a 90 second cycle. If you accept the emotions and don't try to make it something else, they resolve like an ocean wave. Or maybe they don't. But have you ever tried to manipulate an ocean wave? Just ride it and hug and breathe. 

If your kid learns to have emotions without locking it down or escalating it - then their emotions will function the way they are supposed to: as a temporary and therapeutic response to the situation at hand. They might not do "emotion right" all the time, that's OK- that's literally what childhood is about- learning. They learn through experience, not micromanagement. 

Help your kid not be a zombie robot or hot mess. If you are a zombie robot or hot mess, try being less of an asshole to yourself. It takes time and practice. You can start at 40, and it'll take time. But there's hope! 

If you let kids feel free to process a hard thing emotionally now - they won't have to do all the hard work like you're having to at 40. How nice is that?! Stop the cycle and don't be an asshole.

Body!

1) STOP TALKING MEAN

To yourself. Yup. I know you don't say nasty things to your kids. If you do- stop that rightthisminute. You might be doing it not on purpose, like: "Ooh, I wouldn't eat that, you've put on some weight! You cute chunk!" Doooonnnn'ttt saaaayyyyy thhhaaaaat. 

If your kid grows up hearing you say "I'm fat, I hate my thighs, My face is weird, I can't take good pictures" they are going to absolutely believe all of that and more about themselves. 

Why? Because you look perfect to them until you tell them you aren't. Once they realize that their own beautiful parents are ugly, they will automatically assume they are. That's all super bullshit. 

Don't be an asshole to yourself, and you will automatically not be an asshole to your kid. 

Take pictures. When you look dumb in a picture- laugh- because you are a fucking human and no one is paying you to take a picture in the moonlight. 

You are documenting the fun time you're having. If your face is funny- you have captured the fun time you are having while making a funny face. Why are you taking it so seriously? (I mean- I'm no idiot, I grew up in the US as a girl- I get it.) But for real, fake it if you don't believe it yet. Talk about yourself like you are a goddamn movie star!

2) Body, Not appearance

Think about it this way, if all of a sudden you could hear turkeys talking and half of what they talked about was the size and color of their feathers, weird thing on their throat, whatever, you would be like: DUDES- NO ONE CARES. That's us. We're the idiots. 

Now, can you take those feathers and make art with it? Absofuckinglutely. I want to see Turkey artists now... 

You ARE art! But you are not a commercial or a product. You get me? JOY with art.

So when you talk to your kiddos about their body: talk about function (and art if they like that). Your nose is to smell. Your ass is to cushion your sitting and expel the literal shit your body doesn't need. (Maybe use different words). 

Try to make your language and conversation around bodies be about the actual body, and not always the appearance. It's such a default for us. Lips: LUSCIOUS. No- speaking, eating, kissing, delish. See the difference? It's so much more fun to see the body as this masterful organism that does SO many cool things (we self-heal- that's amazing). 

3) Normal Real Words 

Do use normal words, please for the love of all that is holy. There are VERY real safety reasons why your kid needs to know the real words for things, but also it's just annoying when a kid says his "boo boo" and his means his penis. Like- I was looking for a scratch but now I'm confused. 

ALSO- and this is especially for girls, please teach them what is actually in their body - I still look at a chart of my lady organs and get lost. I know there are books that help with this. Check those books out of the library. 

Talk about bodies with real words, real functions, and real joy. 

Think about the Wild Kratt brothers and how geeked out they get about the immortal jellyfish - do that with your own body. (Go look up those guys- they're delightfully cheesy.)

I'm sure there's more to this, but I ran out of steam. 

If you haven't figured it out yet, a lot of not being an asshole to your kids is really not being an asshole to yourself. If your kid asks you if the microwave would work when the power went out, refrain from making them feel like an idiot. (It was hard, but I did it.)

We all have said and done stupid things, your home should be the SAFEST place to be an idiot. Make it safe for yourself too.