The Unruliness of the Deaf Body

At the beginning of the semester, I came across an article titled The Deaf Body in Public Space on my Facebook news feed that was posted by one of my deaf friends. As I read through the article, I found myself nodding in agreement with many of the observations that the author, Rachel Kolb, voiced. For example, after discussing the embarrassment that a hearing friend felt while having a signed conversation with her in public, Kolb says, “To use sign language, to embrace it in non-signing public spaces, one must sometimes push against ideas of having committed a gross indiscretion. “ I often fall victim to this feeling, preferring to speak rather than sign when I have the option because it does not violate public expectations, drawing unwelcome attention. In other words, what I do with my body is policed by the expectations of those around me. Kolb likens signing in public to “putting [oneself] on display”, so by refusing to sign in public, I attempt to evade being made into a public display. These attempts are not always successful; my deaf accent often leads to a spectacle when my voice breaks what is considered neat, tidy, and normal in a public setting by being incomprehensible.

On the other hand, when I am with a deaf friend who prefers signing, I relish the chance to sign and feel pride in how we are violating what hearing people consider normal. Kolb explains this feeling in a way that feels almost as if she is speaking for me: “Hearing culture presents us with ideals of speaking with good elocution, restraint and self-control. Now, I admit, I see these ideals as visually impoverished, inaccessible and uninteresting: They produce spaces full of immobile talking heads, disembodied sound and visual inattentiveness. Those qualities become the optical equivalent of speaking in a monotone. As much as I also enjoy spoken words, allowing my body to speak for itself feels, simply, more real.” I enjoy the way in which Kolb flips what is considered normal on its head; the expressiveness and physicality that comes with sign language is praised while the ideal of being able to express oneself through perfect speech is criticized. The prominence of the body – hands, chest, posture, arms, face, etc. – in sign language is a strength, rather than a weakness or impracticality. Although I still have many complicated feelings to sort through, thinking of my choice to speak or sign in terms of how my body is displayed in a public space helps clarify my feelings and helps me better understand how my deaf body fits into a largely hearing world.

One thought on “The Unruliness of the Deaf Body

  1. I love that you talk about signing as a sort of resistance to non-signing public spaces. I know people love to stare at things they don’t understand, including sign language, sometimes I do it too in class. I’m fascinated by the interpreters in front of the class and often catch myself staring. Even though I don’t mean it to be a negative thing, I definitely understand how that can make a person feel like a spectacle. Thanks for sharing your perspective, I love that you feel pride in allowing your body to speak for itself. From now on I’ll be more careful to show my appreciation of sign language in ways that don’t make the person uncomfortable or othered.

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