Part Three: Confession of my Racist Act — What Led to This Moment? (First year at a “hearing” university)

We started this story during my first year at Gallaudet when, in my ignorance and insensitivity, I commited a racist act (see Part One). Then I took you through my childhood years (see Part Two). Now, we flash forward …

My first year in college, I went to the University of California at Berkeley. I loved that I had rigorous academic challenge in the classroom there. And I loved that I had the chance to take a year of Hindi there–an opportunity rare even in most “hearing” universities.

But now, the years of isolation, and the years of yearning after the Deaf community took their toll. It probably didn’t help that I had two hearing, non-signing roommates at UC/Berkeley. At the start of the year, they made vague promises to try to learn sign language, and even watched a few episodes of a local television program targeted at hearing learners of sign language. But they quickly lost interest and soon came to brush off my attempts to teach even just a sign here and there. I tried to be patient with the fact that they often left me out of their conversations–I allowed most of their chats to slide by. But the few times that I tried to assert my right to be included at least on occasion, they became impatient and froze me out. So now, the very place that was supposed to be my sanctuary–my own “home,” my own dorm room, became a place of isolation and exclusion.

Also–and probably of even higher relevance–I was 19 years old. Like most teenagers–and 19 is still in the teens–I was still figuring out who I was and who I wanted to be. Most particularly, I was still figuring out my identity as a culturally Deaf person. (In later years, during my 20s, my identity exploration took some new twists, not related to deafness. But that was still some years away, and an entirely separate story.) I didn’t know yet where my identity exploration would take me, but I knew I needed to be immersed in Deaf culture for a while. I knew that, at this stage in my life, I needed Gallaudet University.

Next:
Part Four: My Racist Act, Redux
Part Five: The Consequences of My Racist Act
Part Six: My Racist Act: The Apology I Owed

[Want to submit your own essay for publication on this blog? It should be related in some way to reunifying or healing the Gallaudet community in the aftermath of the protests. See prior posts soliciting co-authored essays or essays in general for instructions.]