His hands flew, but I only caught a word here and there--brother, tattle. I was fascinated by his face, and the frown that creased his eyebrows, the hunch of his shoulders, and the sneer on his lips. I was in an American Sign Language class and my teacher was deaf. The interpreter had come for the first hour to explain the syllabus, and then we were on our own with a teacher who could not hear and did not speak, but could catch us every time we were not paying attention. The class was engaging and fun, but also challenging and frustrating. I did not care about the grade I earned; I was there because of my daughter. Alexandra is deaf and I need to be able to communicate with her. Unlike the other students, what I learned in this class would prove vital for my family, my teaching, and eventually, myself.
