"Mr. R., there's a deaf girl in band."
"No there isn't."
"Yes there is!" the freshman insisted.
"There isn't."
"You probably didn't ever notice, but this girl communicates through sign language!"
Mr. R. looks at me, a look I can't quite decipher.
"I swear, she's deaf! Doesn't speak a word of English."
"She does," Mr. R. says, going back to his paperwork. "I've heard her."
"No, this girl is deaf. She doesn't speak at ALL!"
Well, Mr. R. wasn't too happy about that. He'd like it better if I spoke and he makes it quite clear. Later that morning, the new girl asked me my name. I fingerspelled it.
"Whoa! Go slower!"
I do, and then someone tells her my name.
"Mr. R.," she says, approaching the teacher. "How do you teach a deaf girl?"
Not even looking my direction, he hit his head against the podium.
It was then I knew the truth: I was in so much trouble.
"No there isn't."
"Yes there is!" the freshman insisted.
"There isn't."
"You probably didn't ever notice, but this girl communicates through sign language!"
Mr. R. looks at me, a look I can't quite decipher.
"I swear, she's deaf! Doesn't speak a word of English."
"She does," Mr. R. says, going back to his paperwork. "I've heard her."
"No, this girl is deaf. She doesn't speak at ALL!"
Well, Mr. R. wasn't too happy about that. He'd like it better if I spoke and he makes it quite clear. Later that morning, the new girl asked me my name. I fingerspelled it.
"Whoa! Go slower!"
I do, and then someone tells her my name.
"Mr. R.," she says, approaching the teacher. "How do you teach a deaf girl?"
Not even looking my direction, he hit his head against the podium.
It was then I knew the truth: I was in so much trouble.