Four years ago I found myself sitting in Bren Stern’s dorm room. Back then, I thought I was hot stuff. I was acing my Georgetown classes and whenever I needed a breather, I would rocket my Harley and someone beautiful down the George Washington Parkway to a secluded Potomac area. I could also write well; better than the average person, I thought. A piece I had submitted to the Buff and Blue was sent through the grammatical wringer however, and I resigned in embarrassment. I still wanted to contribute something to the Gallaudet literary scene, though. Bren had somehow caught wind of my ambitions, although looking back, I’m not surprised he did. I reeked of arrogance and desire. Anyone within eyeshot of me would’ve seen the size of my head. Somehow, Bren and I were able to fit both our egos into his room.
A few weeks later, I was sitting in Jesse Thomas’ house with a group of people who would later become the first writers for the Buck Naked Bison. Jane Jonas was there, among others. I remember feeling slightly humbled, which was a rare feeling for me at the time, and excited for what I felt was going to be a literary revolution. We were going to rock the establishment and show the Buff and Blue how real Deaf writers juice language. My first article for the Buck Naked Bison was a piece on the critical failures of the Honors program. My second submission was an essay on Gallaudet’s failure to maintain a proper level of ASL requirements for faculty and how Gallaudet should take initiative in interpreter education. It was not published. A few weeks later, a similar article appeared in the Buff and Blue with familiar verbiage. I left Buck Naked Bison and a few weeks later, Gallaudet University.
I had several reasons for leaving Gallaudet. The most crushing one was that I could not deal with the audistic tendencies systematic in the Gallaudet experience. Those who were supposed to be my advocates, my leaders, and my intellectual nurturers were the same who were denying me opportunity and who were oppressing me intellectually. My reasoning at the time was that if I were going to experience audism at University, I might as well get a better education. Now I understand that an education is only valid when one seeks to acquire it. Then, I felt that the professor had an obligation to control the level of discourse in the classroom.
I want to say that leaving Gallaudet was the right decision for me. I want to say that I had no other option. That isn’t true, but at the same time, it is true. The experiences I’ve had since are because I’ve left Gallaudet. Had I stayed, I would likely be on a different path than I am now. One thing I did learn, though, was while audism is intrinsic at Gallaudet, it is absolutely brutal in the hearing world. Two years ago, I fled to San Francisco to shape up after the beating I took that first semester at Illinois State University.
Jane met me in Berkeley. She took me up into the Redwood forests and we sat awhile in a grove. The scene was rather mystical. I took a spot on a stump and Jane wandered a bit away from me. The tree canopy blurred the light so that our surroundings were rather gray. I felt that eventually my eyes would pan out like a camera and that music, or at least a Fred Savage monologue, would kick in. After a few minutes of tentative peace, I asked Jane how anyone could live in such an environment and still rage against life. She responded that people shape the environment more than the environment shapes people. These days, I study psychology and I have empirical proof for her contention. Later that night, we kicked back in her hot tub and watched the sun plunge into the bay.
It’s been almost two years since I left San Francisco and four since I left Gallaudet. Since then, I have graduated University and enrolled in another. I’ve moved to a city that I thought I’d never inhabit and quickly grew roots with a stuffy corporate job. Most importantly, four years after I left to escape the crushing sensation of audism, the revolution I had always hoped for stomped in. It came when I was beginning to research my Master’s thesis. A few people may know me through my academic dissection of the protests and other psychological applications to Deafhood. Even fewer may know me as the idealistic, arrogant hotshot from Gallaudet. Jane, on the other hand, has known me for all of these past four years. So, when she asked me to write again for the Buck Naked Bison, the kid I was peeked out through the academic fluff and shouted an agreement. Again, I am excited for the possibilities Buck Naked Bison brings to the community. I especially look forward for the chance to provide the community a literary action free of the taint of audism.
This is Buck Naked Bison - reborn. Hallelujah.