Learning Deaf

One of the first things I did at the Rohanna school was go to observe classes. After two years of researching and experimenting with teaching methods, of being observed while teaching and of observing and giving feedback to others teaching, I was interested to see what strategies and styles teachers had developed for the deaf classroom.

All of the secondary classes take place upstairs. I went upstairs for the first time, almost hitting my head and looked out at the long, narrow room. All of the classes are in the same room, each one divided by a small partition.

Adam, the teacher I was to be observing, a volunteer from America, my interpreter and friend, looked at me, as I looked at the room, and he must have seen my expression because he asked, "What are you thinking?"

I felt embarassed because my thoughts were moving quickly, but not quickly enough. My first thought had been: "How aweful to teach here, it must be so noisy with all the classes packed together next to each other like this."

And then, just afterwards, I observed how small the classes were, on average, about five students present at any given time, and how silent. Of course, there is not a lot of speaking going on in a deaf classroom, is there? Well Duh.

That's just one example of my new education. I think like a Speaking Person. But there are other ways to think.

One Friday, I go to the school because the sports teacher has told me that she will be playing volleyball with the girls. There are often sports being played at the school, but I rarely see the girls participating and I would like to help change that. When there is free time, I often get distracted in the yard and then it's time to go and I realise that I haven't even seen many girls.. they are all in the dormitory.

On that occasion, the sports teacher was called home and the girls were in the dormitory as usual, but I joined in the game of volleyball, kicking off my sandals and rolling up my cuffs.

One thing I love about living in South East Asia is being barefoot. In Thailand I loved that I worked all day in an office with no shoes on. Here, I love walking down the street barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun in the soil and on the black pavement, splashing through puddles. On the volleyball feild, it is mostly mud and small rocks, patches of grass, but I love the feeling of the earth beneath my bare feet.

I remember playing volleyball in high school, mastering the bump, set, spike, wasn't too difficult. What seemed hard for us, as young people, was calling the ball. We all wanted it at first, and then, as it came down out of the air towards our heads, we would close our eyes and back away, letting it fall to the ground. Then we would all look at each other in confusion. How was it no one had even touched the ball?

At the Rohanna school that Friday we were six to a side, but sometimes five, or four or eight, nobody seemed to care much. We had our positions but didn't stick much to them, as you generally don't unless you are some kind of sports person or on a real team or you care too much or something.

Of course, we couldn't call the ball. Well, I could, but no one would hear me so there's not much point in that, is there? I suppose I could sign for it, but that would only be effective if someone was watching me, facing me. And then, they wouldn't be watching the ball, and neither would I, so what good is that? Sometimes we were so busy congratulating each other, or telling a player that they weren't in position or showing them how to better bump the ball, we wouldn't even notice the ball coming over the net.

And in the end, it was just like high school volleyball as I knew it, because no one really calls the ball anyways, and when they do, no one really listens. The best games are the ones infused with a tinge of the chaotic, the mad rushing around for the ball, the uncontrolled volleys, the luck more than the skill. I think our team lost, but I can't remember the score. I may have changed sides at one point, I can't exactly remember. I do recall the feeling of the warm ground between my toes and the signs I learnt - the ones that have no translation but that convey victory and job and frustration. I remember hunkering down near the net, starting at my opponent, laughing as I tried to sign something to convey, "Bring it on punk, i'm going to take you down!"

My quest for specfic teaching strategies oriented towards the deaf classroom has been a little disapointing. For one, Sri Lankan teaching is pretty old school, your generic repeat and memorize style cramming for exams. Teaching methods are the same. Teachers don't really need deaf-specific strategies, they need general teaching strategies, along with an overhaul of the educational system. As usual, I am learning more as I go than I could from a book. My online quest has been frustrating too. Instead, I, as I work one on one with a deaf teacher, observe the classrooms, learn sign language and think about my own experience, I learn how to adapt what I do know to this new context. But I still have a lot to learn...

Itinerary

After many weeks of emails and putting it off, I have finally planned my life for the next few months. Well, more of less. There are still, of course, gaps to fill in, appointments to be made, details, details, details, but some things in life have to be random right?

Thursday Nov. 23rd: I teach my last class in Madiha. Around this time, there will be numerous dinners with various students and people I have worked with. I anticipate eating a lot of delicious curry and even more delicious fresh seafood. After all of these dinners are finished and the teaching is over, I will be leaving Madiha for travels through central Sri Lanka. I anticipate long, hot, bus rides, with blaring Hindi music and crazy high speed turns, tea plantations, rain forests and the quiet contemplation of many Buddihist ruins.

Friday Dec. 1st: I fly on a Sri Lankan airlines flight to London, England. I'm not quite sure why I'm going there or what I'm going to do but the flight was there and it was cheap, so I took it. My good friend from the border will be in Brighton, so a few good times are guanenteed.

Tuesday Dec. 5th: I leave London at 13:30 on Air Transat flight TS123 to Toronto and arrive on my home soil at 16:40. Reunion with old friends ensue. Travel to visit other friends and relatives follows. I will end up at some point in Montreal.

Monday Dec. 11th: Women's Leadership Seminar Series #7: "Life on the Border" (MCRTW Seminar room 3-5pm) The McGill Centre for Research and Teaching on Women hosts yours truly for a practical talk about life after graduation.

Wednesday Dec. 13th: I say goodbye to the lights and the parties in Montreal and grab West Jet flight 655 home to Calgary at 21:05, landing in Cowtown near midnight. Home sweet home. Cinammon buns, brandy soaked Christmas cake, a cabin encircled by snow and reading books by the fire. Lots of hugs, lots of food, lots of tea and talking.

January 11th: Air Canada flight 207Q to Vancouver (leaving at 10am), followed by Air Canada flight 3Q to Tokoyo/Narita at noon, followed by Thai Airways flight 9556Q to Bangkok at 5:15pm on January 12th. Total airtime, about 19hours and miraculously enough, good connections. I arrive back in Thailand sometime late at night on Friday January 12th, back into the blue gray wharehouse of Bangkok's new international airport, the pollution, the traffic and the general madness of the city. Back to my house, my cat and looking for a job. Happy New Year.