How I discovered my Deaf identity at 29

Finding belonging in a divided world.

This blog post written by Aistė Rye Manfredini is part of a blog series at Visually Speaking called “Proudly Deaf.” Interested in sharing your HoH and Deaf perspectives? Write for us! Email at Info@visuallyspeaking.info for more information.
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We’re often expected to explore and realize our personal identities in our early 20s. At 29, I am just beginning to understand who I truly am and where I feel like I belong in my community. 

My experience of being hard of hearing (HoH) and living in the mainstream hearing world most of my life has resulted in mixed feelings of living in between worlds.

From primary and secondary school to high school and college, I never quite felt like I belonged or felt understood by most people. At a young age I was coined as the “spacey” and inattentive kid who often asked “what?” and asked others to repeat themselves. 

I was diagnosed with severe sensorineural hearing loss in Lithuania at age four and fitted with my first pair of hearing aids in Chicago at age seven. I attended mainstream hearing schools in the Midwest up until graduate school. ASL was never introduced to me, so when I refused to wear my hearing aids, my confidence, grades, and friendships suffered altogether. It was a recipe for inner turmoil and severe depression.

A Mainstream Battle

Throughout my early years in school, most of my teachers and friends had no clue that I was hard of hearing (HoH). I was an excellent lip reader and many people didn’t notice my hearing aids with my hair down. I often took my hearing aids out and shoved them into my backpack when my teachers weren’t watching. I felt ashamed by the bulky, squeaky beasts and wanted nothing to do with them. 

I didn’t want to be seen as different. 

Haven immigrated to the U.S. from Lithuania at age seven, there were already significant cultural differences that made me stand out and I just wanted to blend in. As soon as kids started to notice my hearing aids and pointed them out, I began to feel like the other.

In those early years, I had few role models in my life to mirror my lived experiences with hearing loss or to teach me all the positive aspects of being Deaf. My parents were not encouraged by educators or healthcare professionals to teach me ASL nor were they informed about the benefits of enrolling me in Deaf schools or ASL programs. As a result, the hearing mainstream route was my only option for success in their eyes. Hearing aids were the solution.

Because of this trajectory of lived experiences, I felt like an outcast in between the hearing and Deaf worlds for most of my life. It wasn’t until I had connected with an amazing Deaf community in Seattle in my late 20s that I started to feel like I belonged. It all began with curiosity and a hunger for connection—to meet people who share similar interests and experiences as me. So I signed up for a virtual Beginner’s ASL class at Visually Speaking.

Finding Belonging

By learning ASL with instructors at Visually Speaking, my connections to the Deaf community grew quickly in nourishing ways. These connections have led to more learning about Deaf culture, have influenced my artwork through awareness of the De’VIA art movement, and have provided resources for connecting with Deaf folks at community events—virtually and in person. ASL has helped me rebuild self-confidence, reclaim my Deaf identity, and meet new friends who sign.

I am learning and accepting that there is no right way to be Deaf just like there is no right way to be Queer. Deafness is a spectrum in the Deaf community and comes with a variety of cultural norms and physical abilities (i.e., you don’t need to be completely deaf to identify as Deaf).

The beauty of belonging on multiple parts of a cultural spectrum is the ability to understand and empathize with multiple lived experiences. Connecting with a supportive community creates a reality much larger than we know could exist for ourselves and helps us see the world from a different lens — a world that is not so black and white after all.

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About the Author: Aistė is a Deaf Queer Visual Artist and Marketing Consultant based in Seattle, Washington. She has sensorineural hearing loss and an appreciation for all things silent. By learning ASL, Aistė looks forward to the days she can turn off her hearing aids more often to further connect with the Deaf community.