Courtesy of Heather Kirsebom
Heather Kirsebom and parents on her wedding day.
Did you know that there’s a difference between Deaf and deaf? This, one of many cultural subtleties I got gently schooled on by Heather Kirsebom, a Child of Deaf Adults (CODA), during our interview. She cites a book, Deaf in America: Voices from a Culture, in which authors Carol Padden and Tom Humphries share best practices for inclusive language that respects the Deaf community:
“We use the lowercase deaf when referring to the audiological condition of not hearing, and the uppercase Deaf when referring to a particular group of deaf people who share a language—American Sign Language (ASL)—and a culture.”
Kirsebom, a sales leader for a multinational media and information firm, and board member of Wisdom Collective, a collection of nonprofits and companies, says the thing about growing up with Deaf parents is learning that you can be successful while not fitting the traditional narrative.
“My parents live with an ‘I can’ attitude, and they taught me that there are always solutions to be found, despite the obstacles and challenges we may face,” she says. “They believed that, deaf or hearing, you can do anything. Being deaf did not stop my parents from having success or effectively parenting.” In light of CODA sweeping the Oscars and officially entering the Hollywood mainstream, Kirsebom shares the parts that resonated, the ones that made her cringe, and her lifelong journey of straddling the plains between deaf and hearing.
What was it like growing up with Deaf parents?
In many ways, CODA is like being a first-generation child from a family of immigrants. You have the wonderful perspective of seeing the world bi-culturally, you’re able to get a better understanding of other viewpoints, struggles, and beauty. As a teenager, it was great to be able to have friends over and be as loud as you wanted to—our house was very loud!
Was the surrounding community supportive of your family growing up? What were some common themes in how people reacted or responded to your family dynamics?
It’s always amazing to me to see how many people think that deaf people are limited in their abilities. I remember being a kid and having someone ask me if my parents could drive or if they could talk. I would always say, "Um, yeah … the only thing they can’t do is hear."
We would go out to eat and servers would turn to me or my sisters, asking what Mom and Dad would like to eat. In general, that is taken very offensively. Yes, my parents can’t hear but they have had to navigate living in the “hearing world” their entire lives. If you ever work with a deaf person at a restaurant, you should ask them directly what they would like—they know how to communicate with you.
In the movie, it shows Ruby’s struggles in being tethered to her family while coming of age. Is it true that being a CODA presents ways that make it hard to branch off on your own?
Yes, in some ways, but for me it was more of the general family ties versus having my family depend on me. Accessibility rights have come a long way; there are so many amazing technologies that allow deaf individuals independence, such as access to ASL interpreters, video phone services, and more. The movie did a great job of bringing awareness to the Deaf culture, and humanizing deaf parents—showing them as being “normal.”
Which parts of the movie felt most accurate to your life?
The day-to-day parts of the movie resonated the most: flashing the lights or stomping the floor to get my parent's attention … attending Deaf church and having the bass turned up to feel the music. The fart joke is something my dad would totally do (“You know why God made farts smell? So deaf people could enjoy them, too!”)
Courtesy of Heather Kirsebom
The Father of the Bride Speech
The Father of the Bride Speech
Have you ever experienced moments of guilt as a hearing member of the family? And if so, how did you work through that?
My parents were willing to support me and my sisters in anything we did, even if it didn't resonate with them. They were at every performance—band, choir, you name it. My parents wanted to equip and enable their children with opportunities they were passionate about. I think this sprouted from their parents not being supportive or underestimating their abilities.
My parents do not make me feel bad or guilty about hearing. Often, any moments of feeling bad stem from people viewing my parents as “deaf and dumb” or incapable. Those are the moments that are most frustrating for me.
It seemed that the Deaf community’s excitement for visibility was juxtaposed with their disappointment in the stereotypes the movie presented. What did the movie do right and/or wrong?
While I enjoyed that the movie highlighted Deaf culture, there were a lot of inaccuracies. There have been massive strides in empowering those in Deaf culture, including the use of interpreters instead of a CODA. (I would occasionally interpret for my parents, but for assistance at, say, the doctor’s office or a concert, there would be an interpreter there to provide them clues and awareness on what was going on.)
The movie portrayed Deaf people from a hearing "gaze," portraying the family from the perspective of a person who has little exposure to the Deaf experience. Deaf persons are capable, smart, driven, and passionate people who—yes, have to overcome obstacles—but they do not view their lack of hearing as a disability.
The movie didn’t really touch on Deaf culture either, which is one of the biggest things that resonate with me as a CODA.
How are you connected with the Deaf community?
Deaf culture is a very tight-knit community, proud of its language and full of beauty, art and passion. Growing up, we spent many evenings at the Charles Thompson Memorial Deaf Club in St. Paul, and were very active with our Minnesota Deaf Campers Club. I have so many wonderful memories of CODAs and Deaf children romping around on the campgrounds while our parents all socialized.
Is there anything else you want to say about being a CODA and the ways it’s enriched your life?
As a CODA, I truly feel that I operate in two worlds: the Deaf world and the hearing world. In many ways, I process information as a “Deaf person”—my sentences naturally form in ASL, where the sentence structure is “object, subject, verb,” versus in English (“subject, verb object.”) I am very loud, unconsciously slamming cupboard doors, banging pots and pans around … I really do not know how to whisper! I’m very expressive when I talk and feel that my mouth cannot keep up with my brain, as I process all information via ASL.
Personally, I feel blessed to have a worldview with two different cultures. It’s impacted my professional and personal life in terms of thinking more creatively, having more empathy, and bringing a unique perspective to problem-solving.
