Dance video!

Hey there audience!! For Throwback Thursday I want to share my choreography and group performance from 2006 S/BAD Sacramento/Black Art of Dance concert. Imagine Dunham, Tupac, Phil Collins, Bone Thugs, and Sir Elton John help tell the story of Haitian folkloric icon: Eshu/Eleggua.

http://youtu.be/szIvch4_lBs


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Location:Austin,United States

First Day First thoughts

After a loooooooong first day, here is all I have to say. Tired! :-)
http://youtu.be/14cChuOMw2s




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Location:S 1st St,Austin,United States

Planning is like waiting for the Great Pumpkin

Back at it again, I'm having midterm stress disorder, unable to sleep a full night, bad dreams, nightmares, anxiety and procrastination.... must be the second year of grad school with an internship.

I love my internship.
I enjoy my classes. I love most of my teachers.
I like going to campus, socializing, staying up to date on trends in my field...

but when do I have time to take a decent shower and get a decent night's sleep?

Good grief, Charlie Brown. I have a feeling he will find the Great Pumpkin before I find out the answer.

I need to plan betterrrrrrr!

The Pink City

Jaipur is a really cool city. Admittedly laid back and relaxed by the locals, this place is home to the Pink City and a temple in honor of Ganesh, which offers super fun elephant rides... I even got to wear a turban. While visiting this temple several culturally awesome things happened: 1. I saw a hall of mirrors, definitely felt some Oshun vibes. 2. I witnessed Indian tour guides speaking Portuguese with a Brazilian tour group, might I add with lots of plastic surgery? 3. Local photographers spoke Spanish to us because the group ahead of us was from Spain. 4. I bought shoes from a deaf gentleman who wanted to marry me. 5. I bought some beautiful jewelry, also from a deaf gentlemen, including a pearl ring and a necklace of silver, coral,and turquoise. I never buy jewelry but the gentlemen lowered the prices and the jewelry was screaming my name. 6. The Pink City was built in honor of a British prince, like just about everything else. One building is full of windows filled in with stained glass. At night, the place lights up like a multicolored disco ball, so pretty. 6. We closed the evening with a visit to a local Sikh temple of Krishna, where a prayer and blessing ceremony took place. I took some of the candy. The beautiful white marble spiraled up the walls and into a dome which seemed to go on forever.

I really enjoyed the Pink City.


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Location:Jaipur, India

Dresses and Immodium AD

Across from the hotel in Agra a tailor shop making sarees and Punjab suits was nestled between an ATM and a restaurant. Our tour bus poured eager shoppers into the shop where not enough people were there to help too many people. Happy to help my friends out, I winded up spending more time interpreting than figuring out what I wanted. For this elf you who now me, I got easily frustrated and had to count ten. Folks took over for me and I was able to pick out this beautiful what I like to call bright salmon saree. I felt like a princess.

Thereafter we took off for a dinner out at a restaurant where locals go for good Indian food. Unfortunately, my digestive track failed to find the same appreciation. From that moment ion until the day we left I was grateful for my small bottle of Immodium AD.


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Location:Agra, India

Taj Mahal

After a very long bus ride through what are referred to as highways we arrived to Agra, home of the beautiful monument of love, the Taj Mahal. By before I discuss the amazingness of the Taj, let me elaborate on these highways. Remember India, and damn near everywhere BUT America (just like the metric system), drives on the left. That took some getting used to. Also, the fog and pollution in Delhi and along the way was so thick I don't think I saw the sky or sun during the entire eight hour bus ride. Also just as our tour guide had promised, people lived in shantytowns next to the highway. Not like in California, where a small plot of land protects the homes from the highway in the agrarian central San Joaqin Valley. I'm talkin the highway is these people's front yard. Water buffalo, white cattle, bonfires, drying laundry, shops and such skirted the highways on both sides. When traffic slows down to a complete halt the sellers of kick knacks and mommy-and-me beggars swarmed the bus, sometimes even banging the sides with their fists. India never gets boring.

Finally we arrive to the Taj, and security here is no joke. Because of cultural values, women and men often queue up separately. I kind of like that. Between you and me I think I got more action from the female security guards in all of India than I have in my last semester of grad school. As much as I could go on and on about the Taj, all I can say is how beautiful it is. My ignorant American mind failed to realize the Taj is not a religious building, an emperor form the 17th century built the Taj as a memorial of the love he had for his wife who passed away. Wow, that's a lot of love.

The grounds are gorgeous, and so are the attendees. Again and again Indian men wanted to take a picture with the blonde blue-eyed American. At one point an Indian man approached me and asked if I would pose in a photo with his wife who was dressed to the nines in a gorgeous red saree decked out in all kinds of golden jewelry. I felt so honored.


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Location:Agra, India

The Dinner

The next evening we were received with a beautiful reception of Indian hors d'oeuvres, entrees, drinks, and even more beautiful were the people in attendance (and I'm not talking about just myself). I met young vivacious deaf women who sat and chatted with the young deaf undergraduates in my group. I met the NAD president in Delhi, his wife, and many other deaf influentials. One man who had lost his hearing at a later age as an adult shared his testimony of love and enjoyment becoming a part of the deaf community, culture, and world in Delhi. This was another humbling and inspiring moment of the many I was blessed to encounter during this journey through incredible India.

One woman I met works in the advocacy of abused and battered women, fighting for women's rights in India. Meeting such noble people really puts things into perspective for me. She has such a strong and friendly energy about her. Although I didn't know Indian Sign Language and she didn't know American Sign Language, we knew each other's alphabets and found a common place to communicate. This evening was a mere foreshadowing of the life changing and inspiring events I would soon experience.


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Location:Delhi, India

Delhi: Day 2

Yesterday, we welcomed the New Year in with a special brunch made especially for us by the hotel. Butter Chicken is amazing and addictive. Speaking of addictive, I haven't had a drop of coffee this whole trip thus far. I'm so proud of myself. The staff provided chai tea with cream and sugar every morning, which by the way they don't call "chai," they call it "Indian tea." Dr. Madan gave us our morning lecture, which was not nearly as droll as it sounds. His lectures are more like anecdotal discussions about cultural relativity and perspective, prompting us to see deeper and feel deeper about our daily experiences of Deaf Culture in India. We reviewed some Indian Sign Language (ISL) in preparation for our evening reception hosted by a very generous and successful family a 45 minute drive away. But before that, we spent the morning at Ghandi's Memorial. Our tour guide told us all about his assassination, his philosophies, his relationship with the Indian people and their neighbors, and we learned how Ghandi's sign name relates to both his appearance and his actions: a monocle and a spinning wheel for making cotton thread. Dr. Madan reminded us that the beliefs of Ghandi are found in both Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. And in the modern Occupy Wall Street (OWS) movement. The difference between the American Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s, the Deaf President Now (DPN) movement of the 1980s at Gallaudet University, and OWS is: OWS lacks a leader. Dr. Madan is very skilled at giving us quality food for thought. After the memorial, we piled back into the bus and were off to visit a wholesale marketplace in Old Delhi. We only had an hour to shop for food, crafts, and clothing with our self-chosen buddy. My buddy and I chose one another somewhat randomly, and realized we both wanted to do different things. He wanted to eat, I wanted to shop. Being the strong, independent, stubborn, free spirit butterfly that I am, I chose to wander off and shop alone while he sat and ate his dinner. Before I left we talked about time and decided to meet back soon. I looked at my watch and we had plenty of time left. So off I went to buy myself some goodies. One blouse, one purse, and a lot of walking later, my watch said 5:58. I arrived to the designated area, but there were no Gallaudet students to be found. No yellow shirts, no tour guides, no one. Confused, I looked at my watch again. 6:00 pm. I walked a bit more to try and find my group, but I didn't recognize anyone around me. Checking my iPhone in my purse and to much dismay, in actuality it was 6:18 pm. My watch was late. I was alone in a marketplace in Old Delhi. The group had left and I started to panic. Shocked and somewhat in denial, I continued to look for my peers. Admitting that it was time to stop looking and start doing, I pulled out the business card of the hotel to hail a cab. But how do I hail a cab? Who around me speaks English? How do I know I can trust them? I spotted a man in a business suit and asked him if he could tell me how to find a cab. He directed me towards the parked police car nearby where they could assist me. Starting to realize this will be no easy feat, I began to worry I could make it back to the hotel not only in time for dinner, but in one piece with all my money. After the policemen spoke for a short time, they suggested I take an auto instead. "Is it cheaper?" I asked. "Yes," one policeman answered. "Is it safe?" "Yes." "Alright." he escorted me to an auto, which is a three wheeled apparatus with a driver and a tiny bench/backseat for me to sit on. And away we went. This was better than any Magic Mountain or Disneyland roller coaster. Dodging cars, bicycles, rickshaws, people, wild dogs and fellow autos, this driver lead me on a tour I will never forget. I was still relatively unnerved Andy scared about making it back to the hotel in a reasonable amount of time without being taken advantage of. But back at the marketplace, I noticed the policeman who helped me write down the number of the auto, presumably to ensure I was safe. Thank you Old Delhi marketplace policeman. My auto driver took a different route than my morning bus driver. We took a a shortcut through the slums of Old Delhi. I saw a small herd of white cattle grazing through a pile of garbage. Children were playing with sticks circling around a haphazardly made fire. People were huddled, kneeled barefoot around a fire pit outside their shanty home. Food was for sale and roads were a free for all. Earlier our tour guide had said something to the effect of: "In America, they drive on the right. In Britain they drive on the left. Here, we drive on what's left." I can testify to that statement. I trusted my driver because so far, I hadn't seen any accidents and I remember the policeman taking down the auto's information. But there were a few times I had to close my eyes and hold on tight. Actually, a lot of holding on tight; seat belts are more of a luxury than a necessity here. There were a few times I thought we had defied the laws of physics, coming so close to hitting both cars and pedestrians. As the journey proceeded, it began to rain. I felt like I was in a movie. We pulled over three times for him to ask for directions. Luckily, we ended up on the street of the hotel (in retrospect I'm realizing that street must have been THE hotel street in the neighborhood) and I recognized some landmarks like the HSBC ATM and the pet hospital right next door. I made it home spending only 150 Rupees, which is equivalent to about US $2.00, for a 45 minute ride. With only 15 minutes to change for our reception dinner, I cried when telling people my story... I'm too sensitive for my own good, and got dressed for the dinner. I couldn't believe what had happened to me that day. That's what I get for being so independent, right? What a humbling experience, which I think we all need every now and then. Dr. Asiah, a Gallaudet professor and the lady behind the magic of this trip, found me in the hotel lobby and told me she was so happy to see me back. Later she added, "But I knew you could handle yourself, I knew you'd be fine. You're from New York! I felt confident in you." Those affirming words comforted me and reminded me that I am a strong, confident, independent free spirited butterfly. Lessons learned in my marketplace adventure: Communicate with your buddy. Stay with your buddy. Be patient. I'm stronger than I thought. During the auto ride, I said to myself: "You're freaking out now, but this will make for one good story on the blog." - 📳Posted using 📝BlogPress from my iPad📲.

Location:Delhi, India

Delhi. A rough draft

Wow, so much has happened. We landed and there was fog in the airport, which is a basement floor. Fog, inside of a building. Really it is smog because the air here really is as polluted as they say it is in the magazines. In fact I don't think I've seen the sky once in the three days ive been here. After getting our luggage, exchanging some money, and using a bathroom where each stall has its own badet, we were ready to get on the bus at 2 am with our beautiful garlands made out of marigolds and mums... Until we realized someone got lost. Whoopsies. An hour later we decided to go to the hotel anyway, where of course he was waiting for us. They say it's better to get the glitches out of the way early right? Right. The hotel we have stayed in for the last three nights was absolutely comfortable and the staff so gracious. I loved having Indian food for breakfast every morning. I think I'm ready to have curry at every meal now. Our first morning, we only had maybe 3-4 hours of sleep becaus our plane had landed at 1am. After our first breakfast in India, I went with a few brave souls to a nearby market where some of us exchanged money and looked around at a few shops. Lucky for me but unfortunate for my pocketbook, I found the perfect Shauna-outfit for a reasonable price. Back to the hotel we went and jumped into the bus for our first expedition as a tour group. We visited a beautiful Muslim mosque on the day of a holy parade. A musical band with drummers is fancy white uniforms and shiny horns welcomed floats with detailed statues of gods painted with the honor and care from the hearts of the community. This parade was happening in the marketplace just outside of the mosque. So busy! After mazing our way through the bustling streets, Finally we reached the mosque. What a beautiful red place of worship. Steep stairs carried us to the entry where we left our shoes and donned bright light-weight gowns to cover our bodies. The men were provided with sarongs if they were wearing shorts and not pants. In the middle of the courtyard a large square pool is surrounded by worshipers who cup the water with their hands and wash their hands, feet, and neck for an inner and outer cleansing before prayer. To the left of the fountain was an areas where pigeons were eating the food laid out for them. During our stay at the mosque, the birds flew in various groups across the sky as one large entity, like a quilt lapping the waves in the wind. Our tour leader discussed what takes place at the mosque, who built the mosque, and how people come come everyday to pray several times throughout the day. As we stood in our Deaf-friendly circle, many children and adults found our sign language fascinating and come in close. Our circle kept growing. A Muslim woman in a beautiful brown dress and shawl came to introduce herself in ASL. Her husband, who handed out the gowns at entry, and herself are both Deaf. We chatted with her for a bit and she brought her four very young children to meet us, as well. This experience is one of the many times the world feels so small. We left the mosque and rode rickshaw to a spice market. Whoa, now that was a ride. A rickshaw is a setup where a resilient young man pedals a bike which pulls people in very small wheeled carts, which are hitched to the rear of the bike. Weaving through the streets I saw storefronts, shoppers, bag carriers, motorcyclists, carts with fruit and more. The electricity cables throughout the neighborhood were wound up around the poles like spaghetti on the end of a fork. Monkeys crawled and climbed the wires just like trees and vines in a forest. We all enjoyed that moment with cameras. We took a short tour through the spice market. Bay away it crowded. Touring anywhere on a holy day is always going to be a busy and crowding experience. Merchants and buyers were everywhere, folks trying to sell us something and folks intrigued by our sign language clustered in close. We entered a winding hallway where chiles and other spices we're being broken down and processed for sale. Everyone was coughing and complaining about the scent/taste front he aromatic chiles, similar to the experience of pepper spray. Luckily for me, my asthma and allergies had prompted me to wear a surgical mask during our tour. I didn't smell a thing. Once we decided the spices were enough to endure, we all piled into a small bus like clowns in a VW Bug to wind up back at our tour bus at the Red Fort where we immediately took off to head back to the hotel. For it was NewYear's Eve and we all wanted to eat, rest, shop, and prepare for a party at club Mocha to ring 2012 Indian Style. With only an hour and a half to shop, which is a very short time for me, I had to find just the right outfit to celebrate the new year. I the same market where i had shopped in the morning, I tried on a beautiful bright gown, which was too much money and not enough fabric. Indian clothing is catered toward a leaner frame, of which I do not have. Then we found another store with nice clothes for a little bit less than the other store, but still pricey. I negotiated my way into a beautiful too which falls passed my knees and is bejeweled at the heart with many stones and frilled with ribbons on the ends. It needed to be tailored to fit, a process which will take two hours. "But I need it tonight!"I said. The business woman said it was impossible. But she didn't want to lose the sale so she called for a tailor to come right away for me. He had it done in 25 minutes. And people wonder why I'm such a diva. PAH! We were done shopping and I left myself only 20 minutes to get ready for the party. We had so much fun!!!! Many of us were dressed to the nines in our fancy Indian clothes. We were so excited to go party. After walking in, wandering through a few floors and rooms, we looked around and realized all the Indian folks were dressed in more contemporary modern attire, and us tourists were in traditional garb. Food and refreshments were had, dances were shared, and Happy New Year wishes were exchanged amongst everyone in the club. Everyone there was so friendly. So many Indians offered to shake my hand and wish me Happy New Year. Maybe my four years of living in NYC has just made me a little paranoid and skeptical. The DJ toggled between American pop music and Indian Bollywood music. That was fun. He threw in some West Indian music, too. During a Bollywood song, an Indian woman who seemed around the same age as me, started to teach me how to properly dance to the song. That was a lot of fun. People started cheering us on and eventually more folks joined in and we all danced in a circle. Many hearing people tend to assume that ASL is a universal language, which is false. There are many many sign languages in this world. But the one universal language which will always bring cultures together is dance. Happy New Year, Delhi! - 📳Posted using 📝BlogPress from my iPad📲.

From the air

This post was originally written during last night's adventures. This morning, as it is 11am in Delhi, India, I finally got my wifi connected. So I will be posting more tonight........ On international flights, things are different. I'm used to flying on JetBlue, Southwest, or United Airlines. These planes are tadpoles in comparison to the behemoth toad that is his double decker, tripper rowed, free meals and drinks provided Boeing boat of a plane. Also, the environment is different. Of course while flying a German airline, it would only make sense for signs, announcements, and the staff to all be in, you guessed it, German. For the first time, I feel like the different one. Well maybe the second time. My first few weeks at Gallaudet sure evoked feelings of being an outsider. Anywho, I have to remind myself how much emphasis Americans have about 'personal space.' that doesn't really exist on an international flight. Suck it up and go with the flow. A little arm brush never hurt anyone. The babies are awful. If you have seen any of my recent tweets, I'm sure you know I'm not particularity fond of children in airports. There are three in my row. One could not stop wailing/screaming for about half and hour after take off. Thankfully, that stopped. I was offered a window seat at check in, but it's far away from the group. Looking back at them, I noticed all the deaf folks standing up in the back chatting. I finished my free German beer, which tasted like buttery amazingness by the way, and joined all the cool kids in the back. I'm so glad I did. When I came to return to my cornered window seat, the other two people in my row had their feet on the wall sleeping. So I decided to go back to the Deaf Area and have a seat. Luckily there was a spare. Looking out the window, the lights are beautiful. I think we're in Europe, maybe England and France?? They look just like Lancaster and Southern California except a bit more geometric and village oriented (also see: not spread out). I'm running on basically no sleep and still so happy. I gonna crash at the airport in Germany, and then I can sleep on the flight to India. We arrive in the morning so that means I won't have time to really sleep for another day. Good grief. Again, I'm meeting more amazing people because of Gallaudet. More on that later. There are Deaf Ambassadors from Mali, Jamaica, Nepal, Kenya, and India. I feel so humbled and blessed to share this experience with such influential people. Now time for breakfast on the plane. - 📳Posted using 📝BlogPress from my iPad📲.

Location:Hans Raj Gupta Marg,New Delhi,India

Snakes on a, er... I mean: Kids on a plane to Germany

This is my fifth plane in 14 days. I'm starting to get the hang of it. Traveling lightly is definitely important, but also difficult during the holidays. I'm sitting in a window seat, the friendly German flight attendant hooked me up. The only downside is that I'm separated from the rest of the group. I hate feeling like an outsider. But maybe this will help me sleep. I know if I was sitting with Gally folks I would be much more likely to chat and stay up. But I can do that in Frankfurt, too. It was so nice to bump into friends after the break. I forgot how much I love being here. I wish everywhere was like Gallaudet, sign language everywhere!!
I'm not sure it's really hit me yet. Maybe it won't until I arrive in Germany. Right now my brain is just processing this as another flight to CA or some other American place. But my brain sure has a surprise in I store when we hang out in Frankfurt for five hours. I'm sooo looking forward to this adventure. But I'm not looking forward to the babies on the plane. In case you are unaware, I hate traveling with kids. They get their own coloring mats at restaurants; they deserve their own airline.


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Location:43A

Pre-Boarding.

We are the first folks here. I'm getting so excited. I'm back signing again with all my Gally friends. So many folks here have travelled internationally before, or ARE international themselves. This trip will be so much fun! I feel like its just the beginning of my international journeys in Deaf Education. Cheers to the first flight! I'll update you in Frankfurt, Germany.


Here's some Indian Sign Language Alphabet for practice:



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Location:Dulles International Airport (IAD)

Morning of India

So after a fun night of wine, cheesecake, Bravo, and the Internet... I couldn't sleep until 5 am. Horrible timing the night before my big trip. After this free breakfast provided by the hotel, filled with crying and coughing babies everywhere, I'm going to try and nap. Oh, and I have to finish reading that book, clean up, shower, pack and be all checked out by 1pm. Good grief. - 📳Posted using 📝BlogPress from my iPad📲.

Location:Still at the hotel: Sterling Rd,Dulles,United States

'Tis the season

A Self Portrait.


Wow, I haven't updated since September. If its any solace, I got all A's and a B+ and worked 20 hours a week. And got sick twice. And my dad was in and out of a nursing home and hospital. But now, I have time and even MORE reason to blog. I'm going to India. Remember during orientation week when I was a hot mess? I didn't know what I was doing and was interested in international deaf education? Well, Gallaudet is hosting a study abroad program in India and I'm going!!!!!! First time out of the states. Don't tell anyone. It's a little embarrassing. Especially since I'm from California. You'd think I would have at least been to Tijuana. Anyway, I'll be updating here, at ASLshauna.blogspot.com, at least daily with pictures and anecdotes. I can't wait I can't wait I can't wait I can't wait! I other news my Dad is doing better, but as of tonight, back in the hospital. I'm just hoping for the best. Also as of tonight, Chelsea Lately is hilarious. I digress... So school is awesome. I'm so glad I put on my big girl pants and dealt with it all. I almost feel like a grown up. Spring 2012 semester has a big surprise I store, stay tuned... I (finally) got to spend the holidays with my parents this year. Just in time for my mother's 70th Birthday!!!!! Wow. 70. That's a big deal. I'm so happy for her and so proud of her for being a strong woman. Happy Birthday, Mom! This past year has been intense: Promoted. More ASL classes. Rocky relationships. Self confidence. Dad's stroke. Seeing my long lost brother and sister. Choosing and going to a grad school. Moving. Accepting newness. Transferring jobs. Dealing with the reality that is the horribleness of the DC metro. Finding my strength. Letting go and moving on. If I keep this up, I just might post my New Year's Resolutions. Happy Holidays.





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Location:A Hotel: Sterling Rd,Dulles,United States

Time to read, time to learn, time to play.

Hi guys,

I know it's been a long time, trust me I did not forget about my avid readers!!! Grad School should have a disclaimer:

     "You will not have enough time to read. You will not have enough time to sleep. You will not have enough time to read and sleep. You will not have enough time to read and sleep and make friends and eat and do your homework assignments and have a job. You will not have enough time." 


For reals.
We last left off at my height of my I-think-I-can success; and I'm still here! Classes are going great, I'm making friends left and right, and I can understand more people more frequently every day. I know I made the right choice in coming here.

     Learning how to be an effective teacher at Gallaudet University includes learning about how much the education community is changing in order to accommodate failing students, a failing academic system, the ever broadening diversity of America's students, and how to teach Deaf, hard-of-hearing, and hearing children in a bilingual setting. At first it is overwhelming to think about all of these things at once. But after you deconstruct and focus down on each theory and questions one by one, it is actually very inspiring to know that I, Shauna Segler, am a part of this great movement of education reform, teacher training, and classroom management.

    This past weekend was so stressful, I had to call out of work just to keep up with my homework. Don't tell anyone. That tells me it is definitely time to look at employment opportunities on campus. Currently, I work retail off campus via a metro route that takes me anywhere from 30 minutes to and hour and a half depending upon the ridiculousness... er, functionality of the DC Metro. The weekends here underground are a hot mess. My department coordinator has been email blasting us with information about tutoring jobs on campus, that sounds like fun! Great experience to help me become a teacher and the best part is I won't have to use the metro and I'll get to use ASL.

     Soooooooo...... you may have noticed my ad, yes the bright yellow box with my cheesy smile... you will see a humble request for financial assistance. Lemme break it down:

Remember in the first week when I discovered "International Development" and sparked an interest in Deaf Education across the globe? Well I found my first opportunity to experience, train, learn, and meet Deaf students, business owners, agrarian folks, etc. in India!!! I am so excited about this I can barely stay seated in my chair while I type this. The trip is two weeks, long enough to gain some exposure but not long enough to be concerned about missing anything from the states. December 29-Jan 13 I will be in India traveling through seven different cities. The cost is reasonable, $3,000 covers the roundtrip flights, ground transportation, daily morning meals, domestic flights, and lodging. Please help support my trip if you can, every dollar counts. You can go to www.gofundme.com/ASLshauna to submit your donation. Or see their facebook page here.


    In between books on Saturday night, friends arranged a sushi dinner off campus. At first I didn't want to go because I had so much to do! But I am glad I went because it gave me a chance to get off campus, breathe, chat with friends, and refresh myself to nosedive right back into my books the next day. We had so much fun with sushi, tater tots, spicy sauce, tempura rolls... I ordered a roll called 3,000 Leagues with tempura octopus and cucumber. It was distgusting. But at least I tried it!

Well off to the books I go. Time to read and finish my assignment before my afternoon classes. I am so grateful for this blog. You are the canvas of my mind and my readers are the fuel to my flame. Thanks for keeping me going. 

No More Tears

View of Manhattan from Brooklyn Promenade

I hope you have your reading glasses on and are sitting in your comfy chair, cause I got a LOT to share with you today!

First of all, Hello! I hope your Labor Day weekend was fun and relaxing, mine sure was. Don't tell anyone, but I took a quick getaway trip to NYC. For my New York friends, please don't take it personal that I didn't contact you. I spent time with my sweetiepie and the BFF, the rest of my time?... READING!!! Grad school is all about reading and discussion. At first I was hesitant about going.

Does this mean that I'm scared? 

    Am I escaping responsibility?

       Am I running away?

After debating these thoughts with my roommates the consensus was a simple, "No. Go take advantage of your 6 day weekend!" (My classes were all Mon & Tues last week!) And I am so glad that I went. It gave me a chance to see that NYC isn't going anywhere, it's still there. It will always be there. My friends and support system are still there and are just a text, phone call, email, facetime, or even four hour bus ride away. Going to New York and returning back to DC give me my confidence back. I was able to realize,

"Hey, I'm okay! I'm doing fine. After a little adjustment, I will succeed!" I feel more comfortable in class and with participating & offering my opinions in ASL. Luckily, two-weeks later my reception is a little more comfortable. I've noticed I have a little more difficulty understanding Lefty signers. No offense, lefties!! It's just visually different, obviously, and takes a little getting used to. I digress... All in all I am happy to be here and am now comfortable and confident; no more tears. Like Johnson & Johnson Baby Shampoo.

So. Cool stuff that happened today:

I had breakfast with a woman I had met last night in the dining plaza. She is an undergraduate student, as are most of the people I meet in the dining plaza, and wants to become a history teacher. She's from Georgia and is African-American, self described. We discussed how children are not taught the whole history of America, but a biased one. We talked about the black experience and the white experience growing up in America. We shared our experiences in public school and when we started to realize that maybe we weren't learning the whole truth nothing but the truth and real truths. I recommended a book entitled Black Like Me (I also recommend it to you). She spoke about how she grew up in Atlanta and the only white people she saw in her grandparents' house was the mailman or the electrician. I shared about my experiences studying Afro-Caribbean dance, which includes the languages, food, cultures, clothes, etc. of the people. What an interesting conversation to have during breakfast!

Thereafter, I began my pre-class to do list, which was entirely accomplished! What a great feeling. Scholarship paperwork, submitted. Orange dorm ID sticker, got it. Mail, picked up. Umbrella, purchased. (Damn you rain!) Visual Gesture & Movement class, registered. Done.

My two classes for the day were Reading/Writing for K-12 Teachers and Curriculum Planning/Technologies. I had to present a project in ASL for the first class. Of course I hadn't rehearsed at home, but I reviewed the material in my head. Well, seemed okay! Three students shared that they found it interesting and enjoyed my story about my Pathway to Literacy. That was a nice little esteem booster. It also let me know that I was clear in communication. Something I'm always worried about... in both languages. Then in the Curriculum class, I participated a lot! Probably too much. Sometimes I just can't stop sharing. I'm glad that today, I could understand most of what folks were saying. The few times I didn't, I had enough comfort to ask people to clarify. And that was okay. Just like when people ask me to clarify a classifier, it's okay.

One concept I have been steadily familiar with and am just now strongly experiencing, is that the Deaf community is so familiar, comfortable, and knowledgeable with technology. If you think about it, it makes sense. So much of communication is involved with technology. Your cellphone, iPad, wireless keyboard, Microsoft PowerPoint, email, texting, video chat, alarm system, etc. are all ways in which we communicate ideas, needs, thoughts, desires, expressions, disappointments and joys. Deaf people value equal access to information. Hearing people assume if you can't keep up with what's being given, you must be lacking in intellect. Typical hearing folks, judging people by the quality of their auditory reception skills. Accommodation doesn't equal disabled. Different comprehension technique doesn't mean less qualified. Different just means different.

This leads me to another concept within Deaf culture. The Deaf community firmly believes in the values of sending d/Deaf children to Deaf schools. Deaf schools are a place where the language is the same and supported, information is administered in the child's natural language, it is a central pillar to the Deaf community and culture. It is a place where Deaf people meet and exchange ideas with other Deaf people. It is not a place of judgment or misinformation; which is how many Deaf folks view mainstreaming.

Brown vs. Board of Education

Now Closed Mental Institution

Now comparatively, hearing people view Deaf Institutes as a bad idea. Why? The term institute reminds many of mental institutions and how unproductive and abusive those centers were/are/can be. Another negative relationship mainstream America has with "different" schools is the Seperate But Equal philosophy ever so prevalent in the early 1900's South. Hearing folks think that by mainstreaming Deaf children with interpreters they will benefit more by being considered more equal, more similar, more socialized with hearing children. But education with interpretation invites such a margin of error and misinformation. During my brief time of studying to become an interpreter, one of the several ethics topics we discussed was the instance of interpreting for a Deaf high school student who asks us to help him with homework or wants to discuss his family life to vent. What about the dating life of Deaf mainstreamed students? I doubt any 16-year-old wants a third wheel coming along to interpret during dinner, a movie, and an already awkward goodbye.

The point I'm trying to drive home, is that segregated schools are immoral and discredit an entire community. However, different schools just mean a different language. Deaf education does not mean separate/unequal/disabled education. It is simply education in a different language. Did you know that it is somewhat popular for Americans of French descent to send their children to private schools which only speak and teach in French here, in the states. What's so different about those schools and Deaf schools? 

Elementary School for Deaf Children in Utah

High School for French Speakers in NY

Top Five Cool Things of the Week

There are a couple cool things that happened this past week, that I forgot to mention.


1. I had lunch with Miss Deaf Black America, she's from Atlanta.
2. I met some older grad students who were on campus as undergraduate students during the 1987 Deaf President Now protest.



3. I met some folks on the swim team.


4. A lot of folks are from Canada. I think someone told me Canada doesn't have any universities for the Deaf. Aside from Gallaudet University (a liberal arts school), the US has RIT: Rochester Institute for the Deaf (a technology school).
5. I spent an entire dinner conversation talking about the Deaf gay man's experience in DC... well learning about it, anyway.


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Long Labor Day Weekend

No classes until Tues. Means I will have my nose in the books and out having fun!

Will return with a new post on Tuesday.


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Second Day of Grad School.

Today is Tuesday. That means the day after yesterday. So after my second round of reception, comprehension, discussion, learning, experiencing, eating, walking, and story telling in ASL; I'm feeling more comfortable with myself and with the school, and more confident in my class participation. 

No tears today. 

Nearly all my classes are Monday and Tuesday, with the exception of a 2.5 hours seminar every Friday morning. Not bad, right? Except for the fact that my meal breaks are few and short. Now I understand why grad students always carry food with them wherever they go. You never know if you have to work/learn through lunch, and dinner, and into the night, and onward through breakfast. 

For several of my classes we have to pick a topic, subject matter, or idea in connection with a presentation, project, or paper. So far, I've been able to find relating ideas about multi-cultural, race & ethnicity, and literacy. Those topics are so interesting to me. I have no idea what I'm doing, but so far I'm having fun and have found some inspiration. 

Thanks to Labor Day, I don't have class until Tuesday... that's 6 days off! Don't worry, I'm burying my nose in my books. 

After next week, it will be in depth learning, involvement, immersion, and dedication. I have to retain a 3.0 GPA to graduate and a 3.5 GPA to keep my scholarship. 

Happy Labor Day!!

First Impact

I have no words. 

no signs.

no ways to communicate what I'm feeling. 

But let me try... I am overwhelmed with the work required, the level of which my ASL reception needs to be, the level of which my ASL execution needs to be, the amount of experience my peers have, the lack of experience I have, and finally; how I will establish a plan for me to accomplish not only my assignments, but also develop through and forward with each of the aforementioned concerns. 

In my last class, Structures and Application of ASL/English in the Classroom, there are 10 students, 1 TA, and 1 professor (obviously). Of those 10 students, I am one of the two hearing students. The other girl, she got her BA in Deaf Education. All the Deaf/HoH students? They have BA degrees in education and/or Deaf education. So I'm the only student without prior experience in and educational setting for the Deaf. 

I feel so behind. 

My hearing professor has a PhD in Deaf Education and teaching Linguistics. ASL is her third language, English her third, and Spanish her first. She's quite impressive. Her ASL skills are top notch. It is very inspiring to be around her, she has a certain vitality and passion around her like the dust cloud of that dirty kid from the Charlie Brown comics. Except not dirt, but energy. That being said, being around such inspirational and experienced people is motivating, and yet intimidating at the same time. 

I feel so intimidated. 

If I look back and try to remember other times I felt intimidated I can think of...

1) Auditions to get into Cal State University Long Beach with a bunch of bunheads. Denied. 

2) Ailey auditions with a bunch of technically advanced bunheads. Denied. 

3) First week of training at Apple in NYC, when I had never touched a Mac in my life. Success. 

4) Pursuing a career in modern dance in NYC, Failed. 

Denied because I gave my very best and didn't make the cut. 

Success because I applied myself, played by the rules, and was determined to make the most out of what I was working with. 

Failed because I did not apply myself seriously, I was not determined to find success; rather, I waited for it to come to me. I found roadblocks and sat in front of them or took another road, instead of seizing and conquering each one. 

After reviewing these few anecdotes of attempted achievement in my life, I think it's a little more clear as to what I need to do now. I am fully capable. I just can't crawl into a ball of fear and defense. Failure is so scary to me, especially after experiencing such a heavy dose of it as a dancer. It is scary to try again. But without trial, there is no failure OR achievement. Right? Right. 

So onward ever onward. 

This is what I signed up for. I knew I had little to no experience in this field and that I had a long row to plough. I will finally succeed in a life-path choice. Perhaps I need to remind myself that it is okay to ask for help and utilize the resources I have in order to find the appropriate path of success for me. The key to asking for help, though, is knowing/being aware of what you need help with. That's the critical step. 

I feel better. 

"Dad/Father"

Growing up near a military base with a father who worked in aerospace I was constantly sermoned in how to live the right way. Many times, especially as a tween, things my father said went in one ear and out the other. But one word of advice he has continued to give me through high school, undergrad, professional life, and now in grad school: "Keep a journal, Shauna. Write down things you experience and your thoughts about it. Later, you will learn from your experiences and perceptions. It will help you grow as a person and help you recognize your growth." 

Whaddya know? Dad was right. 

So let's see what the rest of the first week of graduate school has in store!