Anonymous: My life as a CODA in a large deaf family

I recently saw a BSL Zone documentary which showed a young CODA helping her sister at her rugby training class by communicating for her.

This documentary really reminded me of my own life growing up and I felt compelled to finally put my thoughts down about being a CODA.

I’ve decided to write anonymously so I can freely express myself without worrying about what other people think of my family.

My parents are deaf and I have three siblings – two are deaf and one is hard of hearing.

I’m the only one with full hearing in the family. We all sign and although our Mum uses more speech than my Dad it’s fair to say that our first language is definitely BSL.

I had a very happy childhood. We always had fun together, lots of holidays with other (deaf!) families and I didn’t have to go without at any time. We were really lucky and a big happy family.

It was only when I started secondary school that I started to get picked on a bit for having a deaf family. Kids would say stupid things because they thought it was funny. I found it painful because it was my family they were joking about. I felt protective about them but I also wanted to fit in with my own hearing friends. It was hard and I swallowed a lot of angry words.

Most of my friends were fine with my family but there were a couple who were also a bit nervous about meeting them. When I took friends home I would become everyone’s interpreter and it was hard for me to relax so I preferred to go out instead. It was when I was a teenager when I really started to realise how different my life was compared to most of my friends.

My other friends didn’t have to pay their parents gas/electric bills at the shop for them, or ring the doctors to make appointments for everyone. I remember going to a friends house and jolting when the phone rang because I thought I’d have to answer it! It made me realise how I always felt on call when I was at home.

Similar the BSL Zone documentary, I remember my older brother wanting to go to karate and me having to go with him to help him understand the instructor even though I was really young at the time and had no interest in karate. It was only for a couple of lessons but what surprised me was looking back nobody even seemed to question it.

Back then it was seen as normal to bring a hearing relative with you to interpret instead of booking a professional interpreter. I never really questioned having to help others out, it was just one of those things.

Looking back though I think I got tired really easily. It was a family joke that I would always be the one napping on the sofa or asleep in my room if someone needed to find me, and I honestly think I was just exhausted from always being switched on.

What really helped me was going to certain deaf events or sporting events and meeting others who were the same as me, the only hearing person in their family. We could laugh about things without feeling guilty and we knew what to say because we’d been through the same things. Having that support was really important to me.

Meeting other CODA’s also helped me with my own identity. I realised how a lot of my identity was from my siblings or my parents but I had other parts of myself that I was neglecting. I wanted to do more things for myself instead of always being home and I discovered that I didn’t have to do everything for my family, they could manage just fine without me!

A turning point for me was when I went off to University. It was my first time away from home and I found it really liberating to just be myself without having to always think of others. Maybe it sounds selfish but I was once told that being a CODA can sometimes be like being a carer, although you don’t always know you’re doing it.

My family have always been so supportive of my career and as I got older they became better at finding their own ways to do things without relying on me. Part of it was also about me learning to have boundaries and instead of interpreting for my mum when we are out together, I’ll ask someone to speak a bit slower for her so she can lipread. That empowers my mum and means I can just be her child instead of her interpreter.

I know I’m not alone in my life experience but I just wanted to raise the issue that a lot of CODA’s do struggle with their identity and with the pressure of feeling they want to or have to help their family.

So when I see a young CODA interpreting for their family, my heart goes out to them because I know I was like that – I was so happy to help my family who I loved, but I also needed to sometimes just be a kid.

For more information or support for CODA’s please go to https://www.codaukireland.co.uk/

Image courtesy of i-stock photos.