Welcome

Chronicles of the Unheard is written by and for young people in the Hearing Education Services program in New York City.

In most ways we are just like other people our age. We go to school every day. We have big dreams for our future and big questions about how to get there. We are more like you than we are different.

Okay, I know what you're thinking now. "Hold up! Different? What's different about them?"

With some of us the difference is obvious. We might wear hearing aids. We might use sign language. When we come into a classroom, we might hand the teacher an FM unit to wear around her neck.

With others, the differences are more subtle. You might notice that we ask you to repeat things more than other people do. Or that we sometimes seem to answer a different question than the one you asked. But you don't think about it too much, because most of the time we react just the way you expect us to.

We want to use this blog to communicate our experiences to the world. We especially want to hear from other young people who are Deaf and hard of hearing. We want your short stories, essays, reports and poetry about aspects of life as Deaf and hard of hearing youth. If ASL is your language, we will post your V-blog entries. Send an e-mail to mchoffman135@gmail.com if you would like your work to appear on our blog.

If you are a hearing person, please leave your comments and questions.


Note: Our title is inspired by a book by Josh Swiller. The book is called The Unheard, and it is all about his experiences as a Deaf man in Zambia, Africa.


Our First Post is by
A Misunderstood Person

The first day of seventh grade was a beautiful day, but it was a lie considering the stupid things that happened once I got to school.

First I was assigned to the wrong class. I mean, I had the paper that told me what class I was supposed to be in, and I was convinced it was the right one until the teacher spotted me among the 28-odd heads of students lined up for roll call.

She went: "Hey, I've got news for you, you aren't supposed to be in here young man. Get out. Get out now." And basically she pushed me out the door and onto the floor to the laughter of my classmates.

I picked myself up while trying, and failing, to hide my face. Before we even got halfway through the door one girl said to me: "Ooh, is the little baby crying?" She laughed in my face with her friends. It made me feel worse, but I tried to pretend that it didn't affect me.

We took our seats and I happened to wind up sitting next to another girl who thought what happened to me was hilarious. Yay, me! Off to a great start in seventh grade.


I listened to the teacher make her introductory speech. Meanwhile the whispered comments continued from the other rows of desks.

"Hey, you saw Ms. S. push that retard to the floor like that?"
"Ooh, yeah, the look on his face just got me so bad. I'll never forget that as long as I live."

The insults went on and on. They said maybe I went into the wrong classroom on purpose. Yeah, right, like I wanted to get a bad name for myself on the first day.


Lunch time was no better. I got to see my friends from another class, sure, but the food sucked as usual, and the insults didn't stop. It was so bad that since that day I haven't returned to the cafeteria at lunch time. Instead I spend my lunch hour in the room where I meet the hearing and speech teachers. At least I have something to do there. No one stops me from using the computer.

You could say the computer has kept me from feeling completely isolated. The only real friends I've ever had are internet people, especially people interested in RPGs. Too bad not people people realize this. Sigh.

(Note: RPGs are Role Playing Games.)

Writers note: The is just the edited version of the events. The real version is more vulgar than this. I think it gets the point across better, but we don't want to corrupt the younger kids who might read this blog! If you want to read the original version, send an email to: mchoffman135@gmail.com.