The Secret Deafie: My Deaf key worker experience

The Secret Deafie is a series of anonymous articles written by different D/deaf people. 

I am a Deaf person who works in London. I am deemed a keyworker and definitely cannot do my job from home.

This is my job and I have a responsibility, with this comes feelings around being vulnerable. These are unprecedented times with unique measures put in place to protect us, but, a growing feeling that I have is – I do not feel protected.

I am a keyworker, when you read the news and watch videos on social media, all the talk is around praise for keyworkers, some keyworker’s jobs are vital, but not as publicly celebrated as others. I am not after praise here though. 

All over the world, people are doing jobs that have been deemed “essential services”. Life has been turned on its head. These people are the nurses, farmworkers, supermarket staff, delivery drivers, health and social care workers, teachers and others who do their jobs, so that everyone can participate in “social distancing”.

Before the Coronavirus, our jobs were not seen as important in terms of status, it has been most striking to realise that we, are indeed essential workers and exist to support the world to go around.

We are working, determinedly trying to keep the coronavirus pandemic in check, to keep us all going. This is challenging, not least of all for someone who is Deaf too.

With a lack of equitable access to information in BSL, plus being exposed to more risks. Having to travel to and from work, using public transport and being around others who also have had to expose themselves to public places and spaces in line with our professional duties, means we are already feeling vulnerable.

What struck me last week, on Saturday, following an incident I was involved in, is something that has stayed with me and grown. It is something that is not immediately obvious and not really talked about.

The focus is so much on the Coronavirus, the symptoms, the precautions, the latest news around this, with data and statistics and daily updates and changes, often not in an accessible format.

The message is to Stay at Home. What I am seeing on the streets of London is a reduction of people. The message is working. Where does that leave me and my fellow workers? Are we safer? In some respects – yes, we are. In others I am feeling more vulnerable than ever.

On Saturday, I was on my way to work. I had just arrived at my destination station. Leaving the station building, just on the cusp of the station itself. I was met by two, well dressed, young men who were sitting on a bench opposite the exit.

One had a mask on, it was this man that appeared to be talking as he was looking in my direction. I assumed he might be talking to me. No one else was around at the time.

This is an unusual occurrence on a Saturday morning in such a public place and this is where I am progressively feeling unnerved and vulnerable.

I was lighting a cigarette, so I assumed he might be asking for a cigarette, but didn’t feel comfortable, so moved on my way not paying too much attention to the men.

As I walked, I noticed behind me, in the sunlight a shadow close behind me, which alerted me to having someone in close proximity. I turned and was confronted by a significantly taller than me young man, the other man from the bench, who was not masked. He had come quickly up behind me.

Next, I felt a pain in my leg and realised that this man had kicked me on my shin. I realised afterwards, that he may have been trying to tackle me, possibly to the ground. I am not sure. 

However, being Deaf and visually alert, I was fortunate enough to have been forewarned by the sunshine. Turning and bracing myself, I was not knocked to the ground and was able to maintain my standing position.

I turned and asked the man why he had done that. I think the combination of not buckling in either my stance, or response to the situation took this man by surprise. He stopped in his tracks.

I then turned and continued on my way, not wanting to escalate the issue. Leaving me shocked, I have recounted the situation in my mind and to friends and colleagues and I have also reported the incident.

However, it leaves me reflecting on these unparalleled times in a different light. I am feeling isolated and vulnerable, rather than protected when in public places.

I must travel to work both early in the morning and also late at night. I do not see the presence of police nor do I feel protected. I feel exposed to both the virus and the opportunity of crime.

I am feeling more vulnerable now. As a Deaf person I am faced with masks that do not afford me access to information, I have to travel alone, often in the a dark. I do not have the ability to pick up on sounds around me that might alert me to dangers.

My space was invaded by the young man approaching me, I am exposed in more ways than one. While the police and emergency services are focused on the priorities of the Coronavirus and I am focused on carrying out my duty, I am not feeling as appreciated as most media channels are stating we are on a practical level.

If we are essential, then more stringent measures need to be in place to ensure our safety is maintained.

I will be looking out for others, when I travel form now on. I will choose where to stand and where to sit, with social distancing in mind. I do not want to put myself at risk.

How do I judge who is safe to sit near, so I am not alone at risk? What do I do if I do not feel safe, or feel compromised?

I asked an interpreter to call the police reporting line. The police automated response was, due to Coronavirus, lines are reduced and if it was a non-emergency call to go online. 

If the police are not able to respond to me on the phone, and online is not dealt with immediately, if it is not an emergency, but I am being compromised, does anyone really care?

The Secret Deafie is a series of anonymous articles written by different D/deaf people. If you have a story to share, email thelimpingchicken@gmail.com.