I swear I asked myself a handful of times WHY it is that I am trudging up over 150 steps, in the dark, in the rain, in the wind, to attend this Deaf History class!

It is great to have the campus upon a hilltop, when I don't have to kill myself to get there. The view is lovely, but the climb is almost a deterrent.

Once I got to my class, my pulse jumping out of my neck visibly, I was happy to be there. This is what I have to remember.

Our teacher is Deaf. I knew that going into it. Who better to teach Deaf History than someone in the community. The part that was a challenge for me is the interpreters in the class. I am so used to ASL instruction classes that demand a NO VOICE policy. To have the terps there, telling us to VOICE for ourselves, is so much different for me. I know enough ASL to understand perhaps 80% of the lecture. Plus I only hear well out of one ear. This combination makes it an odd reality to watch the teacher and understand him in ASL, and then HEAR the English words 10 seconds later.

I will just have to adjust. One of my friends in the class, who struggles with the two language input also, is bringing earplugs. We will see how it goes...