This debate over the availability and accessibility of the "public intellectual" comes alongside a growing industry movement recognizing the importance of sharing ideas. Steven Johnson's TED Talk "Where good ideas come from" and Seth Godin's "How to get your ideas to spread" have been particularly inspiring for me as I think about issues of innovation and convention (thanks to Jenn Lena's production of culture class for always sticking with me...). This quote from Steven Johnson sticks out to me as I reflect on Kristof's statement:
"We often talk about the value of protecting intellectual property, you know, building barricades, having secretive R&D labs, patenting everything that we have, so that those ideas will remain valuable, and people will be incentivized to come up with more ideas, and the culture will be more innovative. But I think there's a case to be made that we should spend at least as much time, if not more, valuing the premise of connecting ideas and not just protecting them."
I take these issues seriously in my own work. I've been told often by the powers-that-be at Vanderbilt that I'm a "creative" scholar. I've also been candidly told that these evaluations should not be understood as compliments. But I don't care if my creativity puts me at the fringes, I'm going to follow Godin's advice and "be remarkable." Doing so allows my ideas to move forward so that my scholarship might actually begin to engage a broader public audience.
So with that in mind I've made the decision to no longer withhold the ideas I've been developing over the last 6 months to write in a dissertation that perhaps only 4 people will read. I acknowledge issues of intellectual property that might come up as a result of me publishing this information on a public blog--and hope that my readers are respectful of this issue. Nonetheless I am committed to being a public intellectual, and even more importantly, to starting dialogue about my research in hopes that together we can move ideas forward. So here I go [*big sigh*]...here's the outline of my dissertation. I look forward to starting the dialogue with criticisms, critiques, and suggestions. (Note: names, dates, and identifying information have been changed to protect the confidentiality of my participants.)
Outsiders Within:
Cochlear Implants, Oralism,
and the Deaf Community (Outline)
Social
life is structured around categories (e.g., race, religion, and deafness). Individuals and scholars alike treat
these categories as static and the groups within broader social categories
(e.g., black vs. white, Christian vs. Muslim, Deaf vs. Hearing) as mutually
exclusive. Yet, social reality is
not always packaged in discrete categories. For example, mixed race individuals introduce the concept of
racial liminality, interfaith marriages between Jews and Catholics produce
children who are born with ambiguous religious and cultural ties, and Deaf
people who have cochlear implants challenge the distinctions between Deaf and
Hearing.
I
argue that these “outsiders within” and the communities they straddle warrant
scholarly attention. Studying
those who do not squarely fit into these categories provides an opportunity to
better understand how categories are used to create communities, which actors
are central to these communities, and how communities adapt to social
change. In this dissertation I
utilize the case of the Deaf community to understand the outsider within. Specifically
I ask the following three research questions: a) In response to outsiders within, what cultural symbols are used to
enforce and simultaneously make porous community boundaries?, b) How does
occupying the social position of outsider within affect an individual’s
conception of her community identity?, and c) How do both community boundaries
and individual identities change as outsiders within are socialized into the
community?
I
use the metaphor of bridges and walls throughout the dissertation to explain
the ways in which outsiders within navigate community life and also to explain
community-level responses to these “pollutants.” In particular, my preliminary findings have pointed to four
cultural symbols that are used as both bridges and walls around the Deaf
community including history, language, bodies, and technology. I have designed the chapters of this
dissertation to allow me to produce an in-depth review of each cultural symbol
and an analysis of how each is used as both a bridge and a wall to include and
exclude outsiders within.
In
Chapter One I introduce readers to the concept of the outsider within through a
review of existing literatures, comparative cases, and my research
methodology. This chapter will set
the stage for the analysis in the remaining five chapters of the dissertation
by also providing my reader with a theoretical and contextual roadmap to guide
them through subsequent analyses of symbolic bridges and walls in the Deaf
community.
I
have two aims that will guide the writing and analysis of data presented in
Chapter Two. First, I aim to
introduce readers to the history of Deaf culture, education, and medical
treatments for hearing loss. Secondly, I will critically examine cultural events
I have observed during my ethnographic research that celebrate Deaf history as
both a bridge into the community for outsiders within and a wall that protects
the community against the oppression and ignorance of the Hearing world.
Historical
narratives play a significant role in the socialization of outsiders within the
Deaf community. For example, during the summer JumpStart program I accompanied
a group of 40 oral deaf students on a fieldtrip to the US Capitol
building. As we arrived at the
Capitol steps students reached into their pockets, pulled out cell phone
cameras, and hurriedly took snapshots of themselves and their friends posing in
front of the awe inspiring structure.
Minutes later one Deaf instructor, Paul,
ran to the top of the steps waving his arms and making low booming noises—which
are often still detectable by people who have even profound levels of hearing
loss—to gather the attention of the students. With exaggerated signs and facial
expressions Paul declared, “Welcome to the Capitol Building! This is an
important building for American history.
Also, this building is important for us
Deaf people. 25 years ago
Gallaudet students marched to these steps and fought for our rights during the Deaf President Now! student protest. DEAF POWER!”[1] Faculty and students erupted in cheers and
Deaf applause[2] as they
mirrored Paul’s sign, “DEAF POWER!”[3]
This
event served two functions, first, to briefly introduce the historic Deaf
President Now! student protest of 1988. In his brief introduction—which would
be expanded upon in the weeks to come—Paul emphasized signs such as “our” and
“us.” These linguistic markers acted as a symbolic bridge designed to connect
students on the fieldtrip to the Deaf community through a sharing of Deaf legal
history. However, because these
oral Deaf students were enrolled in a language emersion program the speech was
made in ASL, a language in which none of the students present were fluent, the
symbolic wall of language separating them from community insiders remained
intact. As unknowing students mimicked the sign “DEAF POWER” the group headed
away from the Capitol steps towards the Smithsonian museums. As we left I came to realize that most
of the students in attendance that afternoon did not see the symbolic bridge
that had been constructed for them to cross. It would not be until much later in the semester that the
oral Deaf students would begin to notice the small bridges that were built
using the bricks of historical narrative that would enable them to take their
first steps into the Deaf community.
I
further my analysis of American Sign Language as a bridge into and a wall
around the Deaf community in Chapter Three. Linguists argue that language serves three symbolic and
practical functions—a marker of social identity, a medium for social interaction,
and a source of culture (Lane et
al. 1996:67). In this chapter
I analyze the ways in which both outsiders within and established community
insiders negotiate the functions of ASL in the Deaf community. Oral Deaf
students are encouraged to attend the summer pre-orientation program to gain
exposure to the language in an attempt to ease the transition for these
students from a world of spoken language to one of manual communication. Students arrived to the 2013 summer
program eager to learn and optimistic about their abilities to gain
fluency. Yet, to the dismay of
several students, fluency did not come with haste. Jason, a 23 year-old oral Deaf transfer student tearfully
confided in me during an interview 3 weeks into the summer program (in spoken
English), “I’m never going to get this. I thought coming here was going to be
right. For once I was going to communicate without struggling… But now I can’t
understand anything!” Even in his despair Jason pressed on
through the program attempting to find an entrée to the community that he was
barred from by a linguistic wall. One evening late in the fall semester Jason
and I went to a loud bar for a drink.
Instead competing against the undiscriminating amplification of hearing
aids he took them out and we had our conversation in ASL. In the midst of our discussion I
corrected one of his signs, and to my surprise he confidently stated, “You
can’t tell a Deaf person how to sign!” The improvement in Jason’s fluency over
the course of the semester had provided him a bridge not only to communicate
with me in another language, but also to define himself as “Deaf” in opposition
to me, a hearing outsider. In Chapter Three I will focus my analysis on
language as both a bridge and a wall for outsiders within paying particular
attention to the effects of time in the socialization of these students.
In
Chapter Four I analyze the challenge against the audiological prerequisite for
membership in the Deaf community. Specifically through a focused analysis of
Hard-of-Hearing[4] students I
demonstrate how students connect to one another through similar audiological
diagnoses. For example, I will
analyze the common phrasing used by students in initial interviews, who stated
they chose to come to Gallaudet to “find others like me” to describe the ways
in which bodies are used as a bridge for outsiders within. Yet, despite students’ initial
recognition of similarities, embodied diversity in the range and quality of
hearing loss is often used to exclude Hard-of-Hearing students from activities
at the core of the Deaf campus community.
For example, at the height of the fraternity rush I observed Ronald, a
22 year-old Hard-of-Hearing transfer student having a conversation with his teammate
Tim, a self-identified Hard-of-Hearing junior, about not being admitted to a
prestigious fraternity. Tim confronted Ronald with the reality of his outsider
status, “Delta Pi is for ‘DEAF DEAF’ people. You know… like profound.
Deaf parents, ASL, the whole thing.
You’re too Hearing for them, dude.
But its okay, I am too.”
Delta Pi fraternity’s admittance criteria is a symbolic wall that
prevents Hard-of-Hearing outsiders within like Ronald from gaining complete
access to the community. In
Chapter 4 I analyze instances such as these that highlight the importance of
the body in defining boundaries of the Deaf community.
Moral
panic around cochlear implants was at its height in the early 1990s. Today, despite the positioning of the
cochlear implant as a panacea for the deaf by medical practitioners and
educators, my research shows that young Deaf community members no longer
construct walls to position implanted individuals as community outsiders. In
Chapter Five I analyze cases such as Rebecca, a 20 year-old self-identified
Deaf woman who has bilateral (2) cochlear implants to understand how cochlear implants
have fallen from a marker of abandonment of the Deaf community to something as
common and accepted as a hearing aid.
When asked about her own Deaf identity Rebecca tells me (voices), “I’m a
tomato. With tomatoes people think
they’re a vegetable, but really they’re a fruit. That’s like me. People think I’m hearing because my implants
help me hear and I speak really well, but really I’m Deaf. I’m a tomato.” For Rebecca, her cochlear implants
provide a bridge into the Hearing community
rather than as a wall separating her from her peers in the Deaf community. Previous
scholarship on the Deaf community’s response to cochlear implants shows that
older generations of Deaf community members saw this bridge into the Hearing
community as a rejection of Deafness; implanted individuals were considered
traitors to their community. Rebecca’s Deaf identity as an implanted individual
and the responses to her and others like her has been one of the largest
departures from existing scholarship on Deafness that I have discovered through
this research. In this final empirical chapter of my dissertation I propose to
make a strong intervention into the literature on Deafness, disability, and
technology through the analysis of the shifts in views on implants across
generations and cohorts of Deaf people.
Additional interviews and observations with Gallaudet faculty, staff,
and alumni will help me to understand when, how, and why the Deaf community
underwent the dramatic shift in views on cochlear implants “from hostility to huh?”
(Christiansen
and Leigh 2014).
In
my concluding chapter I will return to my discussion of comparable cases
to demonstrate the ways in which my research on the pressures against the
boundaries of the Deaf community can be extended to broader theoretical
conversations about community boundaries and category pollution. I will also
provide policy suggestions for organizations and agencies that serve the Deaf
community with specific attention to outreach towards implanted and oral Deaf
individuals.
[1] As there is no direct ASL to English
translation, all quotes are my own interpretations.
[2] Deaf applause is the waving of hands
side-to-side rapidly in the air, used instead of clapping to visually display
approval and excitement.
[3] The sign “DEAF POWER” is similar to the
gesture used in the Black Panther movement. The iconic gesture is modified
through the signer using her left hand to cover their left ear to emphasize a
lack of hearing.
[4] From an audiological perspective,
“normal” hearing is reserved for people who have a losses in the range of -10
to 15 decibels (db); slight—but still considered to be in normal ranges of
hearing loss—is between 16 and 25db; hard-of-hearing labels are for those with
losses between 26 and 70db; deafness as an audiological diagnosis is separated
by severe (71-90db) and profound deafness is 91+db loss. To further illustrate
the implications of hearing loss, leaves rustling make a sound at a level of
about 15db, a couple whispering is produced at a level of about 25db, and a
dog’s bark is around 70db. Speech
sounds are also produced at various decibel levels. The “f”, “th,” and “s” sounds are the faintest at around
25db, while the vowels are produced at ranges between 40-60db. Therefore, those labeled as
“Hard-of-Hearing” are the groups who can hear many sounds, but are often most
troubled by speech sounds.
However, with the assistance of devices such as hearing aids, FM
systems, and loops many Hard-of-Hearing individuals are able to mange oral
communication in ways that someone with severe or profound deafness
cannot.
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