WHEN AMANDA Dunne was a young child, she would often pray at bedtime that she would be deaf when she woke up in the morning.
"Up to about the age of 12, I really wanted to be deaf like everyone else," she says. Her parents, Brenda and Eugene, are deaf, as is her only sibling, Darren.
From the day she was born, Dunne was learning to communicate with her immediate family through Irish Sign Language (ISL).
Having hearing grandparents helped her to pick up spoken English, although she was referred to a speech therapist when she started school: "They noticed I was not pronouncing things the right way." But she says that not all hearing children of deaf parents would have that problem.
Growing up in Rialto, Dublin, she does not believe she had a radically different childhood from her friends.
"The only thing I would have noticed was that my parents had a lot more difficulties with everyday things.
"Not through any fault of their own, but because of the attitude of the wider community."
She found it hurtful that people would presume her parents were stupid.
"It can be upsetting for a kid if people are disrespectful to your parents and if you see your parents being treated as different. It still happens today," says Dunne (26) who has just qualified as a professional ISL interpreter after a two-year course at Trinity College.
As the only hearing member of the family, she was inevitably called on as a child to interpret using ISL for her parents, sometimes in far from appropriate circumstances.
It was not that her parents wanted her to do it, but often there was no choice.
At school in Loreto Crumlin, she turned this to her advantage at parent-teacher meetings.
"When the teacher said 'Amanda is not being very good', I'd say: 'She says I'm great.' They copped on to that soon enough."
As an adult, it can still be difficult. At the end of last year, her father had a heart attack at home, and was admitted to hospital for a week.
"I was pulled in to interpret for him," she says, and the medical staff did not seem to consider for a moment that it might not be appropriate to use his daughter, who was going through her own emotions.
"I was all over the place. I never thought to ask for an interpreter," she says.
But she finds it "really infuriating" that hospitals will provide interpreters of foreign languages, but are very reluctant to pay for ISL interpreters. If a deaf person asks for an interpreter, she says, the attitude is "they are Irish, can't they write it down?"
Willy White, a hearing son of two deaf parents, says he and his five siblings had to communicate on their parents' behalf when growing up in Tralee, Co Kerry, more than 30 years ago. At that time there were no ISL interpreters around.
"As a child you took on responsibility at a very early age. It was a burden you are socially and linguistically not equipped to carry," says White, who is an ISL interpreter.
He set up the Kerry Deaf Resource Centre in 1999 when, despite the legislative improvements for the deaf community through the Equal Status Act and Disability Act, there was very little happening on the ground.
"I wanted to change that," he says.
White believes there is still a lack of awareness of the obligation to provide support for deaf people.
He was talking to a neurosurgeon recently who thought it was "brilliant" that the seven-year-old child of a deaf patient was able to come in and interpret through ISL.
"You can't have a seven-year-old child interpreting at a neurosurgical appointment," says White. "And this is an intelligent guy. There is a naivety out there in many ways."
Two worlds collide: A wider knowledge of sign language would make life a whole lot easier for the thousands of profoundly deaf people in this country
By Sue Leonard, Irish Independent, Monday September 01 2008
(Click above link for all the article)
...Lisa Dunne, 24, doesn't remember when she realised that her family was 'different'. An only child of deaf parents, known as a CODA, Lisa was always mixing with her extended family, many of whom are also deaf.
"My dad has two deaf brothers," says Lisa. "One has two children, one is deaf and one hearing, and the other brother has seven children, two hearing and five deaf. We are all very close."
Lisa used sign language to communicate with her parents. She learned it from them naturally, but was it tough, having to do all the talking for her parents?
"Being between the two worlds, these worlds that did not 'get' each other, could be hard," she says. "You are a kind of mediator. It was difficult sometimes, but it wasn't traumatic. I just went with it.
"It's not a strain at the time, but it can be inappropriate," she says. "I would have known bank and insurance details, and my parent's medical details. It is better, if possible, that parents do not always rely on a child to interpret. But often they don't have a choice."
After a year at college studying International Event Management, Lisa realised that the career was not for her. So she studied ISL at Trinity College Dublin, gaining an accreditation to work for a government agency as a freelance sign-language interpreter.
Rewarding
"I love my job," she says. "It takes me everywhere in the country. I might be at a business meeting, at a conference, or in a college signing to a deaf student from the front of the lecture hall," she says.
"It can be rewarding, but some deaf people go through hard times. And because we have to be neutral, there is not a lot we can do at the time. That can be frustrating."
What was it like, though, being brought up in a quiet home?
"Well we still had rows," she says. "We'd become really animated. The best thing, though, was when my friends stayed over. If we came in late we could make as much noise as we liked. My house was really popular!" she laughs.
- Sue Leonard
Episode three of This is
Me - The Hearing Aide will take us on a journey of discovery, as we learn to
understand deafness in a world where everything is geared towards hearing. It
has been said that deaf people need to be fixed - they have their own language
they don’t need to be fixed. Everyday Mary Stringer brings the hearing and deaf
worlds together. Despite the obstacles thrown in their way, the Stringers simply
live their lives.
Mary and Lizzy Stringer are both hearing. Been born to
deaf parents allows them to have one foot in the deaf world and one in the
hearing. Mary grew up fiercely protective of her deaf parents. Sign language was
her first language. Been the eldest she is the mother hen of the family. “I
would interpret at parent/teacher meetings, and would sometimes lie if I didn’t
like what the teacher was saying”. She felt worried about things beyond her
years. The death of her father Joe, when she was 16 was tough. Having to
interpret for her mother and deal with her own emotions was very difficult and
upsetting. She could hardly understand what was happening herself, let alone
interpret for her mother.
When Mary moved out, but only around the
corner; Lizzy, 21 remained at home with Jennifer. As Lizzy is the youngest she
relied on Mary to look after her and after their mother’s hearing needs. “People
think deaf houses are quite. Our house is mad. I can come in from college and
the hoover is on, the TV is blaring, the dishwasher and washing machine are
going all at once” says Lizzy.
Mary was born into her career. Today, she
is a professional interpreter, and her job takes her all over the country. She
is the ultimate CODA (Child of Deaf Adult). She confesses that the power of a
CODA is very strong, “I know everything about my mother; sometimes more than I
want to”.
Jennifer’s surprised 50th birthday party is a milestone for
the Stringers. They just have to be sure that people remember not to just
‘shout’ surprise but to sign it as well.
