Dancing With Your Hands

When I was little, I wanted to be a ballerina. Badly. Even though I couldn't stand to dance, my parents got me a mini ballet bar I could sit by and hold onto, pointing my toes and pretending to do reps.

A fews years later, my obsession was tap. My mom bought a piece of plywood from the hardware store and secured it to the wall: creating my very own Rachel-esque dance space. I spent hours laying on my back on the floor, my feet against the wall, tapping away in REAL tap shoes (as I loved to brag).

Naturally, I grew out of these hobbies after a while, and as I got older, I realized I wasn't dancing the same way everyone else was. It didn't upset me, but it was something I noticed and I felt a bit out of place. It's hard to explain, but I wanted to go places; not be sedentary. And so I decided to spend my time chasing other dreams.

When I was 14, I was told there was a high likelihood I would have severe hearing loss as I got older, and that terrified me. Being able to understand others and articulate myself well was one of my superpowers, and I refused to lose it. After months of looking for ways to combat this fear, I finally figured it out. I would learn American Sign Language (ASL) as another way to communicate. Just in case.

It just so happened that the only place in our area providing ASL classes was our local community college. Believe it or not, it's a bit of an ordeal to convince a dean of admissions that an eighth grader can handle college courses, and I went through a lengthy process for approval.

One of the requirements was to sit in on a class. I arrived late and snuck in the back to quietly observe. Everyone was in small groups, completely silent and signing. I didn't understand a thing they were communicating, but I was captivated. How their facial expressions captured their emotions so fiercely, the way their fingers glided through the air.

It was (and still is) one of the most beautiful expressions of humanity I have ever seen. They're dancing with their hands, I thought. And I could too.

Long story short, ASL became a major part of my life. I took lessons for five years, became immersed in Deaf culture, made amazing friends, got a name sign(!), and finally felt like I had a medium of wholly expressing myself. I learned my place in the Deaf community as a hearing person, and am careful not to insert myself in spaces I lack the right to be in.

I don't know what will happen with my hearing, but I don't especially care anymore. This language has given me an avenue to express myself in ways that are nonexistent in spoken words. I dance.