My Mexican Vacation --Part 2 with pictures.

We had such a fantastic time in Puerto Vallarta I didn’t want to come home. As a tourist, you’ve got your choice of cruises, jungle tours, festival!, shopping/haggling, hiking, fishing, snorkeling, paragliding, and my favorite-- just taking it easy on the beach. Night life thrums along the beach until well past 3am. Few, if any, activities require hearing. This was taken at Festival!

Most of the Mexicans we encountered in the city knew some English so we could get around OK. If you can’t hear, I suggest using pen and paper. They are eager to communicate and don‘t look down on you if you‘re Deaf. I’d like to thank Anonymous who commented to my previous post about the differences between sordO and sordA-- male vs. female deaf people. Just point to your ear when you say it. They’ll figure it out. They are used to talking to people who don’t speak the language and are open minded about mistakes.

Here are some things you might want to know.
*Food-- There was a surprising variety and it was tasty. I say the variety was a surprise because the only other touristy spot I’ve been to was Cabo which is quite a bit smaller and doesn‘t offer the food choices. Real Mexican food is not covered with cheese. Their mainstay on the coast is fish. They also eat a LOT of vegetables, so if you order a burrito or fajita, expect half a plate of marinated veggies, guacamole, and a teeny amount of cheese--if any. American hamburgers and sandwiches are popular, as well as coffee/internet cafes. One place offered a number of tasty fruit smoothies. Tropical fruits are abundant and always in season. BBQ is popular too. The second most well-liked ethnic food was Italian. Pizza and Pasta restaurants were everywhere. We also found an Asian restaurant, though we didn’t eat there. Two buffets offered tiramisu for dessert. As a vegetarian, I pretty much stuck to salads, veggie sandwiches, pastas and Mexican meatless dishes. Service was slow. One time we waited an hour for pizza. A half-hour or more was typical. We almost always had to ask for our bill when we were through eating. You can eat just forty feet from the waves right on the beach at night. They bring out a torch for light.

*Bathrooms. Learn the word baño. You will need to ask where it is when you are out because it won‘t be obvious. Sometimes you will see the international signs with a woman in a dress or a man. Other times you won‘t. Be careful. Banos are not always clearly labeled.

*Tours-- Don’t expect Deaf accommodations. Don’t expect safety accommodations. We rarely found a working seat belt. Don’t expect anyone to be on time. You’re not in Amerika.

Here is an example. . . We were told to be at the San Marino hotel at 9:10 am for our El Eden Jungle Tour. By 10:10am, my husband asked the concierge for the 20th time, “Are you SURE they’re coming?” The previous 19 times he had been told they were sometimes “late.” No worries. But this time the concierge called and was informed we were to be sent by taxi to another hotel. The Jungle Tour company paid our taxi fare. Somehow there had been a mix-up. No explanation. Just lots of rapid serious Spanish discussion on the phone, hurried driving to get the Americans to the right spot, then smiling and nodding as we took our seat on the bus.

From the hotel we suffered through a hair-raising bus ride up a narrow, rutted, mountainous dirt road with hairpin turns and unguarded cliff edges. At times when another vehicle needed to pass in the opposite direction we balanced just inches from 500 foot drops offs. I wished I had not chosen a window seat.

Our tour guide talked non-stop switching back and forth easily between Spanish and English. I couldn’t understand either language.

By the time we reached the top I was sick with headache and nausea, and popped a pill I keep on hand for pounding migraines. When the tour guide asked if anyone was up for a hike in the jungle, I said yes. Migraines are caused by constricted blood vessels to the brain. Often exercise will open up the blood vessels. No amount of medication will help when blood vessels are constricted. So up we hiked to a pristine waterfall where cool mountain springs pooled invitingly at the bottom of smooth rocks. Since I wore my bathing suit under my clothing, I stripped happily, and took a dip. This was probably the highlight of the entire trip for me.

Our guide gave me some medical advice -- "When your feet are not the same temperature as your head, it can cause sore throat with the tonsil and headache, so you muss dip your head in the water, Seniora.” At first I refused because I had on my glasses. It’s bad enough to go swimming without hearing aids, but to take off my glasses too, well then I can’t see either and that was asking too much!!

Finally, at his insistence, I dipped. And damn he was right!! My headache went away instantly! I’ve been seeing an expensive neurologist who hasn’t been able figure out my headaches. So remember this little bit of Mestizo wisdom--make sure your feet and head are always the same temperature. The smiling picture of me above was taken as I was getting out of the jungle spring feeling refreshed and headache free!


On the way back, we stopped into a tequila tasting room. Fun, fun, fun!That's my husband posing with hundreds of bottles of tequila. I didn't taste because I didn't want to push my luck after curing the headache.

Another great tour was Rhythms of the Night, which included boat cruise, open bar, food, Native dancing to Aztec type drum music, and romantic open air candlelight dinner in the jungle. We got lucky and timed it on the same night as the full moon. It couldn’t have been more beautiful or romantic.

We also went to a Festival! This included music and dance floor; traditional Mexican folk dancing; drinks; a dancing horse; games such as a contest of female volunteers who had to sing while gargling tequila; fireworks; buffet; piñata; drinks and they make balloon hats for you; dancing; and more drinks! It’s essentially a fun, fun party. Did I mention drinks? Here we are in our hats.

The rest of the time we hung out on the beach, swam in the ocean and walked around the town, did a little shopping. . . I couldn't believe this pelican let me get so close to him!

The temperatures hovered around 90 degrees during the day and 75 at night. The ocean felt perfect, with the water temp maybe upper-70s? The beach slopes off quickly so the waves come in strong, but it's not trecherous once you get past the shore waves and great for body surfing if you're so inclined. I enjoyed bobbing around in the water for awhile each day to cool off. I am a good swimmer and not afraid of the ocean since I grew up on a beach.

We stayed just off Playa de los Muertos in Old Town, where there were cobbled streets and flowers hanging from every window. Old Town is romantic, safe, and we could walk to just about all the tourist hot spots from there, so it was a great location.

My Mexican Vacation

It’s the end of day two in Mexico. So far I’ve found it pretty easy to get around as a hard-of-hearing/deaf vegetarian. I had forgotten how they accost you the second you get off the plane-- official looking people grabbing at you, hoping to sell you a condo and package deals to the luxury vacation of your dreams. We came here to relax.

Night people by nature, we elected not to sleep before leaving home at 2:30am Tues. morning. By 12:15 pm when our plane landed in Puerto Vallarta, we had been awake over 24 hours, and the last meal we had eaten was six pm--eighteen hours before. We were tired, hungry, bedraggled looking and had the words “American sucker” written all over us when we stumbled away from Customs.

I stood patiently listening to the human babble around me. Could have been English or Spanish. Didn‘t make any difference. All I heard was hundreds of people chattering as I watched my husband slowly get sucked into some deal. Nudging him in the leg, I quietly signed the word “no.” We were both tired and vulnerable. I didn’t care about the condos, massages, fancy restaurants or boat cruises displayed before him. We left the airport -- with the taxi driver from hell.

Too tired to think about all the painful ways a person could die in a Mexican taxicab, I was aware he was driving recklessly, but only wanted a bed. Though it did occur to me death was a type of rest. Driving through town, different Spanish words started coming back.

It has been awhile since I’ve been to Mexico. I’ve never had a large Spanish vocabulary, but I know a how to ask for directions to a bathroom and what words mean “meat” on a menu. We arrived at our hotel early. Check-in wasn’t until 4:00 and we still had our Seattle clothing on. Here, it’s a humid 90 degrees.

“Caliente” (hot), I said to the guy managing our suitcases. He had them tagged in a grouping while we waited for our room. Then I picked up my top in the ASL sign for shirt and asked, “change?” while automatically signing “change.” If there has ever been an award given for number of languages used in one sentence, I think that could be it.

“Si” he said, nodding and moving his finger in an around gesture indicating around the corner. Then, he bid another guy to load up our suitcases in Spanish. They started walking, beckoning us to follow. We were escorted to a spacious, air-conditioned suite to change our clothes and rest while waiting for our own room.

AHH! It pays to know a few signs. I use them often with library patrons at work who don’t speak English well. Between the little Spanish I know, the little English they know, and a few signs that seem to be universally understood, I’m generally able to communicate with them pretty well.

After we finally got settled into our room, we went down to the beach, ate, then came back and slept, then went out and ate some more, then came back and slept until noon today. There’s not much else to tell. We were tired and hungry. The beach is beautiful during the day and at night. The food is fantastic, once they get over my shocking request of “no meat.”

“No meat?! No feesh?! No pollo?! Cheecken?! Shreemp?!”

Today I practiced the Spanish words, “Sorry, deaf.” (excusa, sordo) on all the Mexicans selling stuff on the beach. I have no idea if these are the correct words or if I'm pronouncing them right or saying them in perfect order. Maybe I'm supposed to say, "sordo, excusa?" -- I don't know. I looked them up in a dictionary. They will have to do. Some of them nodded when I said sordo and pointed to my ear, so I think maybe they got the idea. I wasn’t lying about this either. I had to take my aids off because of the humidity. I am almost deaf with my aids. Without, I am quite deaf. If any of you know Spanish, I wouldn‘t mind learning a few more words. Thanks.

Robert Davila

Tomorrow I’m going to Puerto Vallarta. Am I ever looking forward to the sunshine! Seattle has been stormy this past week. We even had a smallish windstorm with power blinks last Thursday.

On Sundays, it has been my weekly tradition to feature a talented, notable, skilled famous deaf person. I thought perhaps a Mexican-American might be appropriate since I haven’t covered that ethnic group yet.

Who better than Dr. Robert Davila???? Probably most of you know his story, but for those who don’t I’ll give a brief synopsis of his life.

He was born July 19th, 1932 in San Diego, California to Mexican migrant workers. When he was six years old his father died from a heart-attack leaving his mother to raise him and his six siblings by herself. At age eight, he became sick with spinal meningitis which left him deaf. Unable to care for him, his mother sent him to the California School for the Deaf in Berkeley, California, five hundred miles away. He was sent there all alone. The only language he spoke when he arrived was Spanish, but he picked up English and ASL quickly. This is what he said about those years,

“I have never dwelt on these aspects of my early life as disadvantages. In fact, my humble beginnings were actually a motivating force that inspired me to succeed in whatever I attempted. . .Access to a quality education has made all the difference. I encountered teachers and staff who took a personal interest in me and assisted me in many ways. Without quality education I could never have achieved what I have.”

He graduated at age sixteen and entered Gallaudet to pursue a degree in Education. Though it was unusual for a deaf person to apply for graduate degrees at the time, he earned his masters in education, then spent several years teaching math, social studies and English at Fanwood. In 1972, he earned his PhD in Educational Technology from Syracuse University. Then, in 1974 he was promoted to director of Kendall Demonstration Elementary School. He was appointed as Vice-President of Gallaudet Pre-College Programs in 1978 where he oversaw both KDES and MDDS.

On July 21st, 1989 Dr. Davila was sworn in for the post of Office of Special Education and Rehabilitation Services- the highest ranking government job a deaf individual has ever held in the United States. His nomination for this post couldn’t have come at a more critical time, for he was able to influence and authorize crucial passages in the American Disabilities Act that would have a far-reaching affect on future deaf/Deaf education and all people with disabilities. He had huge responsibilities including the management of billions dollars, monitoring all state programs for compliance with federal guidelines and regulations, and the direct supervision over Gallaudet University and NTID.

Once again, he is back at Gallaudet, now as president. I have been reading blogs to see how the Gallautians feel about him--both current students and alums. I‘m certainly impressed with his qualifications myself and with his positive attitude toward inclusion. I love "Bob's Vlogs," that are captioned so I can understand, and that he interviewed two students with Cochlear Implants last month. I noted in that Vlog he said 200 Gallaudet Freshmen wore CI’s this year. I thought that was interesting.

I will end this blog with one final quote, an introduction of Dr. Davila by Dr. Rex Cottle when Davila spoke at Lamar University. “From migrant worker to presidential appointee, Robert Davila epitomizes courage and academic excellence.”

I agree.

Diverse Thoughts: Who Belongs in your Inner Circle?

Lately I've been reading a lot of interesting blogs and thinking about the terms d-deaf and D-deaf. Chris Heuer generated a great discussion when he asked if oral deaf were developing their own culture. Since I'm neither oral deaf or culturally deaf, I didn't have an opinion on this specifically, but followed the debate-- which eventually morphed into the question of who is part of Deaf culture. I should clarify--yes I'm oral-- but I didn't grow up deaf so I consider myself LATE-deafened. My "culture" is White Anglo-Saxon Protestant American. YUP. I'm a WASP.

I could never claim to be "culturally" deaf, and I'm not sure I'd want to be. Frankly, after weeks of reading all kinds of Deaf blogs and trying to understand Deaf logic I have to admit I'm still perplexed. Many Deaf bloggers are exceedingly bright, logical and articulate. It's the concept of excluding anyone who doesn't fit certain rigid qualifications of the "Deaf" deafinition that throws me. The Deaf define deafness differently than Webster’s dictionary: "Deafness: Deafness is defined by partial or complete hearing loss. Levels of hearing impairment vary from a mild but important loss of sensitivity to a total loss of hearing."

OK-- In fairness, Webster’s is an English dictionary. The validity of a separate Deaf definition could be argued. ASL IS a separate language, after all. According to Deaf culture I have deafness and I'm a part of deaf community, but I'm not Deaf, I'm only. . . deaf. What I question is the elitism expressed by some. Though, I get the feeling it's only a minority of Deaf who promote elitism. The majority seem open to including others/any deaf person fluent in ASL.

I've asked those in the minority--I’ll call them the “excluders“-- how the Deaf benefit from excluding others, and I was told by one my question offended her because I was somehow disrespecting/invalidating Deaf culture since I would never ask the same question of a Korean or French person. This is not true. I WOULD ask if we were discussing Korean or French policies of exclusion. I had prefaced my question with examples of the benefits of diversity within America. I was simply trying to understand something that didn‘t make any sense.

Historically, when a small group of people have fought for independence, rights, or whatever, most have traditionally adopted the motto, "United we stand, divided we fall." -- It's from Aesop. During the American Revolution, we were made of 13 separate colonies who fought amongst each other, then realized the only way to win our independence against the greatest power on earth would be to pull together. One reason the American Indians failed against the white man was because they could not unite, and we used this weakness against them by constantly spreading rumors to keep them suspicious of each other. The one time they did unite they were a powerful scary force. It's an old trick-- divide and conquer. Do I see through hearing eyes or American eyes?

One offended "excluder" used a whole lot of armchair psychology on me. Here’s a nice little quote (yes--I‘m being sarcastic): “I think that (your comment) stems from the feeling that Deaf culture is somehow unimportant and expendable, just as ASL is somehow not "appropriate" for deaf babies (but fine for hearing babies, for example).”

Just for the record--I believe ALL deaf babies should learn ASL. However, it isn’t for me to tell others what to do or to judge them when they don’t do what I think they should. I am late-deafened. I’m learning ASL. If I had a deaf child, which I don’t, I would want that child to learn ASL. Also, if I had a deaf child I would love him/her equally, just as I hope you all would love a hearing child. It makes me gag when I hear deaf people saying they want a deaf child. Of course I understand you want a child like yourself, but it's sort of the same thing as a hearing person saying she would be disappointed if her child were deaf-- reverse discrimination. If you don't like hearing people saying this about their deaf children, you shouldn't say this about your own hearing children. When I was pregnant all three times I only said I hoped my children were healthy and that I would love whatever God gave me. I have encouraged my hearing children to learn ASL. I do not judge others for following a different path, but please love ALL your kids for who they are.

I have mentioned that America values diversity. Admittedly we need to work on it. There are some unpopular exclusive groups. KKK for example. We've had a lot of racial incidents lately. . . On a personal level I despise all forms of exclusion. I have gay friends, Buddhist friends, black and Asian friends. I grew up saying the Pledge of Allegiance with the phrase,. . ."and liberty and justice for all" and I took it to heart. I assume American deaf children say the same Pledge. I believe America has benefited tremendously from black culture, Latino culture, Asian and Jewish cultures just to name a few, and yes, even gays and gay culture. We are, in fact, the greatest country in the world because some of the most talented people come here to live, and we welcome them with open arms. This is our American way. I give one obvious and very convincing example--Albert Einstein. I could list thousands.

Further I feel compelled to point out that some of America’s most celebrated Deaf heroes don’t fit the prototypical Deaf culture ideal because they were oral. Just to name a few--Edmund Booth, Regina Olsen Hughes, Donald L. Ballantyne, Robert Weitbrect, Erastus Smith and many, many more. Those of you who would exclude oral Deaf from your inner circle, how do you teach your children about these Deaf heroes? Are they completely ignored?

Judging from blog input lately, the entire Deaf community seemed deeply disturbed by the racial incident at MDDS this past month. The response actually surprised me--mainly because this sort of thing happens in hearing schools all the time. I believe the only reason it made the national news at all was because of the “twist” involving deaf students. It wasn’t even a particularly violent attack. The kid was drawn on for heaven‘s sake. Kids get beaten up and stabbed for being the wrong color at hearing schools all the time. If this had happened at a private hearing school? (***yaaaawwwwnnn***). Not that it should be overlooked, but things like this happen so often that unless someone nearly died, it would be overlooked.

The fact that the Deaf blogged about it for a full ten days or so opened my eyes to the true colors and feelings about the community of Deaf bloggers. They care intensely about diversity, racism and inclusion. I conclude exclusion is NOT a Deaf value held by most.

Finally, I'm taken aback by those who reject the medical model of deafness. I was surprised by the blog about cell phone etiquette during Deaf events and how many readers admitted being able to use a cell phone in noisy environments. The thing is, most late-deafened and oral deaf people I know have a lot of trouble using cell phones-- IF they use phones at all. I almost never see anyone using them at late-deafened events. Admittedly some can use cell phones in quiet places with awkward accommodations attached, NEVER in public. It's super rare. We're DEAF! Does it seem a little strange to anyone that my oral-deaf friend Kate who uses a TTY, Sidekick for texting only, and video phone for all phone communication would be labeled only hard-of-hearing since her primary mode of communication is oral? She does know ASL, but her husband and children are hearing, and she was mainstreamed as a kid. Not her fault!

I think Paotie summed it up best when he said that (rejecting the medical model of deafness) was like one black person telling another he's MORE black. But hey-- that does happen! Blacks do get down on each other for acting too white sometimes. I’ll give you one guess who’s more successful in life-- the black guy who talks in “Ebonics” or the one who uses proper English?

Personally--I see us all on a continuum with hearing people being at one end and deaf non-oral at the other. The rest of us fall in-between somewhere. We either speak or we don't depending on where we fall on the continuum and when we fell there. Some of us use ASL, some don't. We're all deaf to some degree. None of us is better than anyone else. We all deserve compassion and respect. You’ve all given me smiles, even those of you I disagree with.

Please keep blogging because I‘m captivated.

Uzi Buzgalo

Recently I read a blog where two people argued whether deaf culture really existed. One person made the statement that the deaf don’t have their own form of art. The other person listed off some deaf artists and mentioned deaf view/image art called De‘VIA, which can be found at Deaf Art.

I’ve been looking at this site for awhile and I love it. If there’s one argument FOR deaf culture it is art. Deaf artists view and express themselves in space through vivid imagery. An emphasis on hands, eyes, lips and color in addition to common themes of repression pop up over and over, both validating and defining deaf culture. When artists create, they project their experiences and feelings into whatever they’re forming. I know this on a personal level because my mother is an artist.

I often tell the story how as a child I came home to my mom painting at an easel day after day. I used to love watching her drawings come to life on the canvas as she mixed and blended colors, them brushed them ever so lightly or scraped across the canvas to create just a certain texture. It was magical. Like most kids I‘d have a snack and talk to my mom after school before running off to play. Not until I became an adult did I realize she used me as a model in so many of her works. The children in her paintings all had my face.

This week I decided to write about a deaf artist. There are so many. I found a great book called, Deaf Artists in America: Colonial to Contemporary by Deborah M. Sonnenstrahl. Not all of the artists in this book adhere to De’VIA‘s manifesto, but there have been many, many talented deaf artists in America and all over the world.

I‘ve chosen to write about Uzi Buzgalo because I just really LOVE his work. His colors are whimsical, and his message is fun, and his art makes me smile. (This one to the left looks like a telephone with hands popping out of it. In the background is a television set with flower hands or some such thing. It's hard to tell. I wish this picture were bigger. If one of you out there knows, please explain this!)

He was born in Israel in 1956. Deaf from birth, he went to the Jerusalem School for the Deaf where he learned Israeli Sign Language. He showed an interest and talent in art from an early age and began studying art seriously from about age eleven. Additionally, he loved to dance. As a young adult he joined a professional dance company made up of deaf and hearing dancers, Kol Demama meaning “Sound-Silence,” and he enjoyed traveling all over the world with them. His experiences with professional dance influenced his art style, which has been described as color waves and dots. His agent explains the impression of the dots as “deaf eyes that see in constant motion.” Like many other deaf artists, hands figure prominently in his work.

One of Buzgalo's paintings in the book that caught my eye was called Only Lives In Water. I couldn’t find this on-line. (Too bad!) I’ll describe it. The top portion had a huge fish. The lower third was obviously water. So the fish was OUT of the water. Under the water were so many, many people with arms and hands flailing about. Buzgalo explained this painting. I’ll quote directly from "Deaf Artists In America." When he was a small boy, “he watched his grandmother lay a fish on the kitchen table and the fish’s mouth was still moving. He asked his grandmother whether the fish was speaking. His grandmother told him that it does not say anything and ’it has no voice’ like him.”

Eventually Buzgalo's travels took him to the United States, and he became a US citizen in 1995.

Communication Barriers

Last Wednesday marked my fourth day in ASL class and I was pleased with my test score of 99 out of 100. This wasn't a huge surprise because much of the vocabulary was a review since I've already taken courses at the Hearing Speech and Deafness Cntr. and have spent lots of time conversing with a couple deaf friends. I was worried that I had lost some vocabulary since I haven't seen them lately, but it's quickly coming back.

The great thing about my college course is my deaf teacher is spending more time on ASL grammar and convention than my previous instructor did. She's moving quickly and I've already picked up many new words including the ASL names for all the local cities around here. Up til now I've only known Seattle, the town where my daughter goes to school, and a few towns in my vicinity. My teacher is absolutely wonderful! She's a natural mime. She has a great sense of humor and it's a perfect class for me in that we aren't allowed to talk, so it's a real visual experience which is the best way for me to learn ASL as a late-deafened person. One concern I previously had about taking college courses was that so many of them are geared towards interpreters.

Because we don't use our voices in class, I go into "no voice" mode and had not talked once until last Wednesday. Occasionally she does ask for people in the class to interpret what she's signing. It's clear she expects class participation and so--last Wednesday she asked (by pointing) for someone to make up a sentence and for someone else to "interpret." Pretty much the entire class had spoken up at some point. I knew she expected me to particpate. There came a time when no one knew the answer but me. As I've explained in the past, when I'm in ASL mode I really enjoy NOT talking, and I take my hearing aids off in class, so I'm kicking back just enjoying ASL and deafness. At that point when she kept asking if anyone knew the answer, I struggled with this because I knew the answer and no one else did. Very hesitantly I raised my hand and spoke aloud-- for the first time.

Then she signed "again" until I repeated my answer three times. She has never done this to anyone else. I always sit right up front. She's hard-of-hearing/deaf-- I'm not sure which. I don't know if I wasn't speaking loudly enough or if she was having trouble reading my lips, but I was embarrassed. I've become self-conscious of my speech because people have said it has changed and have asked about my "accent." Then when she made me repeat the answer over and over and over I wondered if she didn't understand me because I was talking weird, and if everyone else in the class thought I had weird speech. Finally she signed my interpretation was correct and moved on. She has sort of a teasing way about her, so I'm pretty sure she wasn't doing it to be mean. But it was awkward for me and I'm not sure if I will speak again for the rest of the quarter when she asks someone to "interpret." And I can't talk to her about it because we're only allowed to sign with her. Do I need to reframe my perspective? This is way too complicated to for me to discuss with her partly because I might be over-reacting, and partly because I don't have the ASL vocabulary to clearly express my feelings or concerns about the possibility that my speech might be deteriorating along with my hearing. How convoluted is that?? I mean. . . the irony of it-- I'm in ASL to learn how to talk with my hands and feeling awkward about my voice.

Picture above taken by Wanderlust http://flickr.com/photos/phoebewanders/

Want Happiness??

This article below really inspired me. I've been thinking about happiness a lot lately-- why some people are happy and some are not.

Long ago I took a psychology class in college, and was surprised to learn that winning the lottery didn't increase a person's happiness quotient. Being "handicapped" didn't decrease it either. Most people in my class were surprised to learn this. Many of us had fantasized at least once of winning the lottery. What happens is you get a temporary high from winning and then your brain eventually settles back down into its normal chemical balance -- whatever is normal for you. If you're normally depressed, you'll still become a depressed person later, but you'll be depressed with lots of money. Likewise, if you were happy before losing the use of your legs, you'll be sad for awhile, but eventually the sadness will wear off and you'll become a happy person again.

Last week I came across an article revealing new studies on the habits of optimists and how to achieve happiness. These habits can be learned and can brighten anyone's life within reason. I'm going paraphrase. They were simple habits; 1) talk to a friend each day. 2) make a list of the good things in your life once a week, but no more often than that because you're not being realistic 3) we all make mistakes-- cut yourself some slack and move on-- don't dwell 4) if something makes you angry be proactive in changing the situation. 5) be randomly kind

The random kindness is a tough one. I've found it isn't always appreciated. Sometimes people are suspicious or confused. Sometimes it will get thrown back in your face because someone is angry at the world or suffering with issues you can't possibly know about. A horrible incident happened to me last year when someone misinterpreted my kindness. So be careful with that one, but don't be afraid of being kind, just be aware some people do not want your kindness. Getting involved with organizations is a safe way to go. So I've posted this article below. I thought it was wonderful! Imagine what could be done if everyone started doing stuff like this.

http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/metro/stories/2007/10/07/hands_1007.html

HANDS ON ATLANTA Metro residents get busy helping others By JILL VEJNOSKAThe Atlanta Journal-Constitution Published on: 10/07/07

AND ON THE seventh day, practically nobody rested.
Some 15,000 volunteers fanned out across metro Atlanta early Saturday in what felt like the ultimate humanitarian handyman project. From building picnic tables for developmentally disabled children to painting a mural for refugee families, participants in the 17th annual Hands On Atlanta Day did some good for the do-gooders.

One project simply aimed to brighten somebody's life a bit. Nothing can bring back Kyle Moore, the Washington High School football and academic star who was fatally shot while walking home from a MARTA station in May, but at least his mother, Lynn Carter, could get some much needed painting and landscaping at her Sylvan Hills home.

"I've got plenty of brushes, plenty of paint, and she's lost so much," said William Christensen, a general contractor donating his time.

This week-long wave of organized volunteerism began in Thomas County last Saturday and eventually rippled through all 159 counties: In all, 37,000 volunteers took part in 550 projects during "Hands On Georgia Week."

Ultimately, the hope is that some volunteers will decide one "Day" is not enough.
"It's just like the big white sale in January," said Suzanne Wilson Davis, Hands On Georgia's manager of external affairs. "Everyone's come into the store and seen everything going on. And they want to come back."

Banned Book Week is Over

I meant to blog about banned books last week. Since I work in a library there's probably nothing I'm more passionate about than our right to read whatever we please. Book challenging/burning/banning just . . . really. . . rubs me the wrong way. The only countries I know of that legally allow book censorship are dictatorships run by religious zealots (such as Iran and Afghanistan when it was run by the Taliban) and Communist countries like Cuba and N. Korea and so on. These are not nice places to live.

I'm all for parents putting restrictions on their kids. I don't have a problem with that at all. I respect everyone's right to determine what they find offensive, what they think their children are too immature to read, or too young to understand, and what they do not want in their homes. But I draw the line when others decide what is too offensive for everyone else's home.

Saturday October sixth ended this year's Banned Book Week 2007, and I forgot to mention it because I was too busy this past week. I had blogged about banned books a little bit last August and intended to revisit again. I already listed the most banned books of 2006 and of the past decade. You can find those blogs here: Challenged and Banned Books and The Top Ten.

The American Library Association offers a wonderful resource for learning more about challenged and banned books. I thought it would be nice to list this link where you can download a .pdf file that explains in a little more depth why certain books have been challenged or banned. I know some of you have been interested in this as you've asked me directly. It's called the 2007 Resource Guide. I'm not sure how big it is, so download at your own risk. :-)

Also-- another nifty section in the ALA site is the question/answer page on challenged and banned books. Just go here--ALA Question/Answer page on Banned books and scroll down about 1/4 and you'll find some question links.

I would love to hear from you if you've read a banned book, what your favorite banned book was, and what you liked about it. I have read several on the top 100 list. My favorite has to be Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. I can't imagine why it would have been challenged or banned. I am a big Ken Follet fan and Pillars is unquestionably my favorite book of his. A departure from his usual WWII war or spy/thriller novels, this was about architects building a church during medieval times. I read it several years ago now, and just talking about it tempts me to pick it up again.

And yes. . .I DO know the Bible has been banned all over the world, but it hasn't been banned HERE. The Bible doesn't count as a "banned book" -not here. Sorry. It isn't on the ALA banned books list.

Eugene "Silent" Hairston- Boxer

This week I chose Gene "Silent" Hairston for my Deaf Hero profile. He was born in Harlem in 1930, and became deaf from spinal meningitis when he was only twelve months old. As a child he attended a public "deaf" school, then dropped out in order to take care of his younger brothers and sisters. After working at several odd jobs, he decided to try fighting like his boyhood hero Joe Louis.

Each morning for six months he showed up at the Tremont Fighting Club in the Bronx with a note saying he wanted to fight. At first the owners of the club refused to allow him to fight because of his deafness, but they eventually gave in. He fought so well they decided to train him.

As an amateur Hairston quickly moved up the ranks and won two impressive titles: New York Golden Gloves Champion, 137lb Welterweight Open Division; and Chicago Intercity Golden Gloves (147lb.) Welterweight Champion. He lost only one out of sixty-one amateur bouts. Then he started playing professionally. During his professional boxing career he recorded forty-five wins, twenty-four knock-outs, thirteen losses and five draws, and he went up against some of the toughest Middleweights in the world including Jake LaMotta (aka Raging Bull) who beat him only after ten grueling rounds. He became known as second best in the world. He was quite possibly the only one who could have beat Sugar Ray Robinson, but due to eye injury he had to give up boxing at age twenty-two and never got a chance to fight Sugar Ray.

Though he never asked for special accommodations for his deafness, it was because of Gene "Silent" Hairston that boxing arenas added flashing lights to their ring posts. Other boxers also found the flashing lights helpful, so boxing arenas continued to provide these flashing lights long after Hairston left the ring for good.

Menieres Hell

Today I awoke to a familiar sound-- my husband puking in the toilet. Retching must fall in the 250 hertz range on an audiogram because I can hear it perfectly without hearing aids. 250 hertz is my only normal score. Sometimes I wonder if God preserved just this one frequency so I would always know when he was having a Menieres attack. I'm deaf to most of his speech.

I got out of bed. "Can I get you anything?" I already knew his answer would be no, but he often needs something. He only says no because he wants to be left alone. Our usual routine is I suggest things until he angrily waves me away because I feel so helpless knowing how miserable he is and not being able to do anything. Somehow it doesn't seem right to go about my usual business ignoring him, which is exactly what he wants me to do.

"How about a pillow or blanket?" This is code for 'Are you almost done throwing up?' I don't want to ask outright if he's done, because it's sort of negative. The throwing up phase can last hours and hours. His longest attack so far lasted about eight hours. Though that's not exactly correct, because I'm only talking about the throwing up part of it. People think when I say he had an attack that lasted eight hours, it means eight hours of flu-like symptoms. No, it's not like that.

It's eight hours of throwing up with head in the toilet. What I mean is he cannot move his head away from the toilet for eight long hours. He feels he's going to fly off the edge of the earth if he moves his head or legs or any part of his body. That's vertigo. Your world spins out of control as if you're on a hellish ride at an amusement park. It lasts hours and hours and hours until he collapses. If he weren't so strong he would collapse earlier, and I would need to call 911 so he could be taken to an emergency room, but so far we've been able to avoid that spectacle. Afterwards, he needs to sleep and can have days and days of not feeling 'right' in the head.

Talking makes him throw up. This morning I couln't hear his response to my question about the pillow and blanket because his head was in the toilet and I needed to see his lips.

"Can you sign?" I asked. Sound came from the toilet but no sign from his hands. I assumed he wanted to be left alone and found a quilt to put over his back and shoulders. That's all I could do.

Last Friday he had an attack on his way to work and hadn't shown up by 1pm. Everyone was out searching for him. I took two hours off work to drive his route just in case he had pulled off the road somewhere, and was in need of help. My imagination ran wild with thoughts that maybe he flipped his car due a sudden drop attack. I've heard nightmare stories of this happening. The other worry that kept running through my mind were the similarities between initial onset of a Menieres attack and initial heart attack. What if he thought it was Meneires and pulled off the road, but had a massive heart attack instead? I didn't find him and was frantic by the time I got back to work. Luckily when I arrived a message was waiting that he'd been found in the parking garage of his office. He had been missing for six hours. He had his cell phone, but wasn't thinking clearly, so turned it off and didn't call anyone to let them know where he was.

He's in a deep sleep now. Later today I'll pump him with liquids and he'll bounce back quickly because he's so fit and basically in great health. When he isn't sick he works out two hours a day.

Menieres disease also causes hearing loss. I've told this story to many friends. He is one reason I am sure of God-- but I won't debate religion with anyone. The first time we met, I shook his hand and I got a message he was THE ONE. It was weird because we met at work. He didn't ask me out for months, but I knew the entire time he was going to be my future husband. I even told my mom. It wasn't like I was into him or anything. I didn't know him well enough to be that into him. That's how strange it was.

All these years he has been so patient while I've been losing my hearing. I've heard the complaints from other late-deafened friends-- husbands who wouldn't allow TV captioning, or wouldn't repeat more than twice, and couldn't handle all the hearing loss issues. My husband has been so great about it. NOW he's losing his hearing, and I'm in a position to help him through this. I can't help thinking it was meant to be. US-- I mean. Not the hearing loss. He doesn't deserve this hell.