At the end of this post, I mentioned getting hit by a public transit bus, then left it at that. Cliffhanger ending!
This is the post where I recount the day a Translink bus tried to merge into me.
September is Deaf Awareness Month. Last year, I wrote about the awkward questions hearing people frequently ask deaf people.
This year, I wondered whether I’d have anything to add to what’s already been put out there. It’s not yet October, but already, fun-sized treats are on the grocery store shelves. What can I share about deafness before everybody can go back to being unaware of the existence of deaf people?
Over the past three weeks, the message that has been put out by other members of the deaf community has pretty much been: “Totally deaf people are so rare, so we might as well pretend they don’t exist.”
Preface: The BC Experience was a short-lived tourist attraction in Victoria’s historic Crystal Garden building. The exhibition shut down before my friends and I had the chance to reschedule our plan to visit it.
I’ll also note that I currently work at the very place I used to clean, which is mentioned in the following throwback post:
“Are there peanuts in this?” I’d ask.
“Are you allergic?” they’d always respond. No way could someone just not like peanuts.
I am currently working on a guest post for a well-known Deaf travel blogger, but I can spare a few minutes to give my blog some love.
“YANN!” I yelled from the top of a mountain.
I don’t like using my voice in public. The deaf accent is mocked globally. Imagine not getting to experience a part of yourself that the public gets to experience? Then the result of your efforts to accommodate others not only goes by unappreciated but gets ridiculed!
But it wasn’t the time to be insecure about my voice. I was near the top of Mount Albert Edward, alone, and without water. I had seen Yann just a few minutes earlier: he was busy massaging a water purification tablet into a Nalgene bottle filled with snow. He had also run out of water, and our solution was to thaw last season’s snow.
Very little is required to present myself as a cyclist. First, I need to decide which of my two bikes I want to ride. Secondly, I need to take the chosen bike outside. Next, I straddle the bike. Finally, I go nowhere in particular and then return!
So much more is involved in climbing. I’ve pulled on plastic for ten years, climbing only indoors because getting to the crags requires a car. To go to the climbing gym, though, I still need to find someone to accompany me. Preferably somebody who likes me, but most importantly, somebody who I can trust to not drop me. Then, this special somebody needs to have a work schedule that does not conflict with mine. I need to know only one type of knot, the figure eight.
To climb outdoors is an even bigger challenge. Other than a car, I would need at least one climbing partner who knows how to build and clean anchors, as well as lead climb and belay. I would have to get used to reassuring my friends and family that, yes, I will be careful. There’s a surprising amount of knot tying knowledge needed.