Lipreading; self taught
My dad, Lee, hearing-impaired, had a hearing aid but seldom wore it. He thought beatings about his head, ears and face (from his father) and other run-ins. As a youth kids often teased him about the color of his skin--darker than most.
My grandfather's ancestors, from Portugal and France, in census records were referred to as 'mulato', of mixed race; my grandmother was a Cherokee Indian Medicine Woman.
'We', dad and me, were aware that I, likewise, was hearing-impaired. Trying to avoid the inevitable body hearing-aid, Dad told me to ALWAYS look directly AT people, to pay attention to their mouths and body language. Without trying to do so, I learned to lipread.
Was it hard? I honestly don't remember as it came naturally. It was something I had no choice but to do--like walking, breathing, talking. However, I 'failed' at conversation when people were all over the place. I refused to run and stare at them! They'd know something was amiss. I certainly wasn't 'dumb'.
Folks HAVE remarked that I was always hanging around the boys but, I wasn't a 'tomboy'. My obvious loss was an inability to 'hear' faint or 'light' sounds ... women and children's voices fall into that range. Guys talk loud enough that I could follow what they were talking about. Then, too, I relied on some of their 'brute' strength to protect me from those considered 'bullies'--both male and female.
However, MEN are NOT always easy to lipread: moustaches and beards obscure their lips and, all too frequently, they begin lowering their voices to boot.
Those whose first language isn't English are EXCEPTIONALLY hard to lipread as they do NOT form their words as most Americans have learned the language. Some barely open their mouths, others tilt their faces downward (shy), and many mumble incoherently, incorrect English.
I was THE first hearing-impaired student to integrate the public school in the State of Ohio!
Not by choice but, because I was nine and in the third grade whenever it was discovered that I had already lost 45% of my hearing! It was found that I had been born with a 33% hearing loss, had congenital (from the womb), progressive nerve deafness which, apparently, I'd inherited from my father. It is untreatable (aids are great though) and eventually leads to total deafness ... which I now have.
Previously, from kindergarten until the third grade, my hearing was 'tested' by a window. It doesn't take Einstein to know that one can watch a reflection in the window to SEE when the knobs were turned. That was how I'd 'faked' my hearing as normal for so long; cheating. It wasn't right but I wanted to be just like everyone else so bad it hurt inside. Who WANTS to be a 'freak'?
The State of Ohio ordered me transferred to Kennedy's School for the Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing (also in Dayton, Ohio) BUT ... I was doing exceptionally well in public school. My mom threatened to sue the State and, with no basis for transferring me other than my hearing, the public schools were 'integrated' quietly and without fanfare.
All because I taught myself to lipread.
My grandfather's ancestors, from Portugal and France, in census records were referred to as 'mulato', of mixed race; my grandmother was a Cherokee Indian Medicine Woman.
'We', dad and me, were aware that I, likewise, was hearing-impaired. Trying to avoid the inevitable body hearing-aid, Dad told me to ALWAYS look directly AT people, to pay attention to their mouths and body language. Without trying to do so, I learned to lipread.
Was it hard? I honestly don't remember as it came naturally. It was something I had no choice but to do--like walking, breathing, talking. However, I 'failed' at conversation when people were all over the place. I refused to run and stare at them! They'd know something was amiss. I certainly wasn't 'dumb'.
Folks HAVE remarked that I was always hanging around the boys but, I wasn't a 'tomboy'. My obvious loss was an inability to 'hear' faint or 'light' sounds ... women and children's voices fall into that range. Guys talk loud enough that I could follow what they were talking about. Then, too, I relied on some of their 'brute' strength to protect me from those considered 'bullies'--both male and female.
However, MEN are NOT always easy to lipread: moustaches and beards obscure their lips and, all too frequently, they begin lowering their voices to boot.
Those whose first language isn't English are EXCEPTIONALLY hard to lipread as they do NOT form their words as most Americans have learned the language. Some barely open their mouths, others tilt their faces downward (shy), and many mumble incoherently, incorrect English.
I was THE first hearing-impaired student to integrate the public school in the State of Ohio!
Not by choice but, because I was nine and in the third grade whenever it was discovered that I had already lost 45% of my hearing! It was found that I had been born with a 33% hearing loss, had congenital (from the womb), progressive nerve deafness which, apparently, I'd inherited from my father. It is untreatable (aids are great though) and eventually leads to total deafness ... which I now have.
Previously, from kindergarten until the third grade, my hearing was 'tested' by a window. It doesn't take Einstein to know that one can watch a reflection in the window to SEE when the knobs were turned. That was how I'd 'faked' my hearing as normal for so long; cheating. It wasn't right but I wanted to be just like everyone else so bad it hurt inside. Who WANTS to be a 'freak'?
The State of Ohio ordered me transferred to Kennedy's School for the Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing (also in Dayton, Ohio) BUT ... I was doing exceptionally well in public school. My mom threatened to sue the State and, with no basis for transferring me other than my hearing, the public schools were 'integrated' quietly and without fanfare.
All because I taught myself to lipread.
My hair and hairstyles: The question has been asked more than I care to admit: what color is my hair AND why does it sometimes appear to be LOTS of different shades in the various poses taken at the same time?
I LOVE wigs! I'm a natural brunette whose Mother decided I had a 'green' sheen to my hair and introduced me to hair dye when I was 15 ... she dyed my hair blonde, of course. In most of my earlier pictures, my hair is it's natural shade but after dying it for years, it's hard to tell which is natural, dyed or a wig.
I had twenty-eight real hair wigs of various sizes, shades and lengths; innumerable clown wigs too. Of just the six pictures directly above: pink yarn hair, wig; in the blue dress, dyed brown with a curly hair piece attached; Doug in a tree, dyed brown; Senior photo, dyed blonde; with Doug, dyed blonde and the picture page--natural.
My natural hair color is as shown in the picture where my brother, Mike, and I are wearing yellow tops.
I LOVE wigs! I'm a natural brunette whose Mother decided I had a 'green' sheen to my hair and introduced me to hair dye when I was 15 ... she dyed my hair blonde, of course. In most of my earlier pictures, my hair is it's natural shade but after dying it for years, it's hard to tell which is natural, dyed or a wig.
I had twenty-eight real hair wigs of various sizes, shades and lengths; innumerable clown wigs too. Of just the six pictures directly above: pink yarn hair, wig; in the blue dress, dyed brown with a curly hair piece attached; Doug in a tree, dyed brown; Senior photo, dyed blonde; with Doug, dyed blonde and the picture page--natural.
My natural hair color is as shown in the picture where my brother, Mike, and I are wearing yellow tops.
Clean Windows Sin
Clean Windows Sin
I don’t like clean windows,
think it’s akin to sin.
There are always dirty birds
outside yearning to be in.
They fly, hit window pane
and frequently they FLOP.
It’s suicide, insane.
One wonders when they’ll stop.
I don’t like clean windows,
think it’s akin to sin.
There are always dirty birds
outside yearning to be in.
In their bath—rings round it--
they leave a mess but why?
One would think them grounded--
they seldom choose to fly.
I don’t like clean windows,
think it’s akin to sin.
There are always dirty birds
outside yearning to be in.
The first bird claims the worm--
there are still berries, grain.
Insecure species pace, squirm,
don’t survive hitting glass, pain.
I prefer listening
to viewing everything.
I don’t like clean windows,
think it’s akin to sin.
There are always dirty birds
outside yearning to be in.
copyright2010Sandrascorona
"Naturally"
I don’t like clean windows,
think it’s akin to sin.
There are always dirty birds
outside yearning to be in.
They fly, hit window pane
and frequently they FLOP.
It’s suicide, insane.
One wonders when they’ll stop.
I don’t like clean windows,
think it’s akin to sin.
There are always dirty birds
outside yearning to be in.
In their bath—rings round it--
they leave a mess but why?
One would think them grounded--
they seldom choose to fly.
I don’t like clean windows,
think it’s akin to sin.
There are always dirty birds
outside yearning to be in.
The first bird claims the worm--
there are still berries, grain.
Insecure species pace, squirm,
don’t survive hitting glass, pain.
I prefer listening
to viewing everything.
I don’t like clean windows,
think it’s akin to sin.
There are always dirty birds
outside yearning to be in.
copyright2010Sandrascorona
"Naturally"
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