Spring Awakening

A story about a deaf student trying to discover herself in today's society

Every time I reflect on the past, I think about the horrible events that changed my life forever. I refuse to think about the pleasant times because, in all honesty, my life has been nothing close to pleasant. When you are a deaf teenager, life spirals curveballs that shatter your dreams forever. I am not trying to over exaggerate, but I struggle to “get by” every day. I attend an all deaf school where sign language is the only way to speak to your friends. Lights flash in the hallways to signal the beginning of class. No matter how much you crave to speak, you will never truly have a voice.  

As the last snowfall greets the big city of Columbus, Ohio, I begin to realize that spring is quickly approaching. Spring has always been one of my favorite words to sign, not because of its shape and formation, but because of what it symbolizes. It symbolizes new beginnings, with a simple image of a hang growing out of a palm like a flower.

“The light is flashing. Don’t you see it?” my best friend, Amy Wallis, signs to me as I stand at my locker.

I look at her hands and nod my head. I saw the lights; I just refused to act on it. I don’t want to respond to a flashing light anymore. I want to actually hear a bell that pushes me along to my next class. I want to like the normal people.

“What is wrong with you?” she asks me.

I shrug my shoulders and look at the doors leading outside. Before I can answer Amy, my legs begin moving. The wonderful aspect about being deaf is that no one can shout at you to stop doing something. They just allow it happen. It is liberating, but I know I am still not free from anything. I am never free.  

I push the doors open and run down the front steps. I turn and walk down the sidewalk leading to a park nearby. Glancing up, I see a small group of boys standing near a park bench. I walk past them, but I am stopped abruptly when one boy interrupts my path.

“Hey, sexy lady, where are you heading?” the boy says.

I can read lips. I know what he is saying, but I never attended speech therapy classes. I can’t speak; I can only sign. I stare at him and shrug my shoulders, for that is the only thing I can do.

“Cats got your tongue, eh?” he says again, this time wrapping his arm around me.

I push him away and shake my head. I instantly regret leaving school. Stepping out of those doors just opened myself to threats. If I do not have an interpreter, or something just to help me, what will these boys do to me? I need help, because the more I stand here and think, more boys walk over and start touching me. They kiss my neck and face, slide their hands down my body like I am a mannequin in a department store. They laugh to themselves, and no matter how hard I try to free myself from their hands, I fail. I always seem to fail.

“Baby, why don’t we go over to this tree and have some real fun,” a boy mutters as he kisses me on the lips.

I gasp and push him away. I slap him across the face and start yelling like a hyena. I don’t know what I am saying, but from the looks on their faces, I know I am not making much sense. My words are slurring together and I start signing. I show them that they are taking advantage of a girl who cannot speak, a deaf girl. They turn around and run down the street. I stare at them and remain standing in my position until they are out of my sight. That’s right. Run away. I am a young woman, and I do not let anyone take advantage of my body without my consent.

Someone places a hand on my shoulder and I instantly jump. I turn around and see a boy standing in front of me. I roll my eyes and begin to walk away, but he grabs his hand. He raises his hands and starts to sign. Wait a minute…he’s deaf?

“I saw what happened. Are you okay?” he asks me, his eyes filled with worry.

“You’re deaf?” I ask him.

He smiles and shakes his head. He raises his hands and signs that he isn’t deaf, but his twin brother had meningitis when he was five years old, causing him to lose his hearing. He learned sign language to communicate with his brother. I smile and nod my head.

Finally, someone wants to help me.  Someone is polite and cares about my safety. Someone understands that I am a young woman in society, and I will be treated like an independent woman. I know who I am and that’s all that really matters right now.

“Do you need help?” the boy asks me.

“I should be fine. Thanks for making sure I was okay,” I respond.

“What is your name?” he signs.

“Berklee,” I sign, making sure he understands my name sign. He smiles and nods his head.

“Like the music school?” he asks me.

“My parents named me after the music school my dad attended because they were so sure I

was going to be a musician too. Well, they were wrong, weren’t they?” I sign, adding sarcastic facial expressions to emphasize my annoyance.

“You can still learn how to play an instrument,” he says.

“Yeah, but I can’t hear what I play.”

“Did that stop Beethoven? No, and you seem like a confident, independent girl. I’m sure nothing stops you from following your dreams,” he says with a smile.

I stare at him for a moment before responding. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I can perform the impossible and follow my dreams. Maybe I can become the next Beethoven. Maybe I can become the next idol for the entire deaf community. I am not a weak girl who can’t do anything. I can do it. I just need to try.

“Thanks a lot. What’s your name?” I ask him.

“Ashton,” he signs.

“It’s nice to meet you, but I think I am going to go now. Thanks,” I tell him as I turn around. He grabs my arm and steps in front of me.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asks.

“Yes, thanks for the concern.”

“Can I at least have your number?” he asks me eagerly.

“Why? You know I can’t talk on the phone,” I rudely tell him as I push him away. He grabs my again, and this time, I know he is serious.

“We can text. Do you have a Facebook?” he asks.

“Why do you care?” I ask him.

“You’re nice. Well, at least I know you can be nice. I just want to get to know you. Is that so wrong?”

I sigh and grab his hand. There’s no use arguing with him. He is a lot like me. He won’t give up until he gets what he wants. I jot down my number on his pawn and push him away. He looks down at his hand with a smile.

“Thanks, Berklee. I will talk to you soon!” he signs as he walks away.

I roll my eyes and turn around.  I keep walking until I spot a patch of blooming flowers. I stare at the mixture of colors, ranging from sunshine yellow to ocean blue. I stare at the flowers and think about how lucky they are. They come every spring. They bring color to the world without even trying. They bring unique beauty to the people who are seeking comfort in their lives, like me for example. As I stare at the beautiful flowers, I forget for the slightest moment that I am deaf. When I was talking to Ashton, I forgot I was deaf. I was just a person. When those young men were touching me, I was very aware of my inability to function as a normal human being. Right now, I feel the same way. I am not a stupid girl with a disability. I am just me, Berklee Daniels.  

Surrounded by the beauty of the park, I realize that even though I can no longer hear with my eyes and speak with my mouth, I still have a voice. I can still make a different with people. Just because I have a disability does not mean I am limited.

Let it be known to everyone that this is going to be a new time for me. I am going to change; life is going to change, and it will definitely change for the better. Spring is here and I am ready to spread my wings and see where the wind takes me.

This is my spring awakening.

Author's Note

This is a story I wrote for the writing club at my school, and I was proud of it. I chose for this to be the first story I post on here. I hope you enjoy. Ignore the grammatical errors. I know there may be some. Sorry.