Insight: What my Deaf wife taught me about the similarities between our cultures (BSL)

I was drawn to my wife long before I could sign.

We were at university together, and I remember watching her with her friends and interpreter. She always looked as though she was having the best time. 

They were laughing, signing and completely immersed in their own world. She would join us at Freshers’ events on campus, and although I didn’t know any sign language at the time, I found myself drawn to her.

She eventually set up a signing club at the university. I was the first person to sign up.

When I finally found the courage to take her somewhere so that we could talk, just the two of us, I began to adjust to the way she communicated. I loved hearing about her family, her experiences at deaf school and this culture that was completely new to me.

I am from an Afro-Caribbean family, and my wife was fascinated by my culture too. As we got to know each other, something began to strike me: there seemed to be some unexpected similarities between the Deaf culture she had grown up in and the culture I knew from my own family.

They weren’t identical, of course. But there were little moments when I would think, I recognise this.

Say it like you mean it

I remember the first time my wife made fun of a shirt I was wearing.

It was bright and loud, I’ll admit. But I was caught by surprise by how directly she teased me. She quickly apologised because she was worried she had offended me.

I wasn’t offended at all. In fact, I found it refreshing.

It reminded me of my own family and friends, where people might openly joke about what you’re wearing, how you look or what you’re doing. In my experience, affection can sometimes come with a bit of teasing and saying exactly what you think.

There was something familiar about the directness I found in Deaf culture. It felt very different from the more reserved, polite English culture I was used to seeing around me.

There was less beating around the bush. And I liked it.

Food, music and the art of staying at a party

Over time, it was great introducing my 

wife to my family and watching her become part of our gatherings.

Food was always a huge part of my upbringing. You didn’t simply turn up to a family gathering and politely decline everything that was offered to you. Food was an expression of love, hospitality and togetherness.

I noticed something similar in Deaf gatherings. Food seemed to have a special place there too, and there was often a sense that if there was food available, you should probably be eating it!

Then there was music and dancing.

My wife loved our family gatherings — the louder the better. And dancing was something she could join in with surprisingly easily. 

She could see the steps, watch everyone else and copy them, so she could participate without needing to hear the music in the same way.

Watching her join in with my family was brilliant. 

Two families, one wedding

Our wedding day was probably the perfect example of these two worlds coming together.

My family brought the whooping and cheering and all the rejoicing. Her Deaf friends brought their own warmth, confidence and energy.

There was no sense of one culture having to fit around the other. They simply came together.

It was noisy, lively, funny and full of people who were delighted that two families — and two cultures — were becoming one.

We’ve now been married for 16 years and have three children. At home, they use a mixture of sign and speech.

So our family has grown up with both worlds woven into it.

Belonging to your tribe

People who haven’t experienced it don’t always realise how distinct Deaf culture is.

There is its own humour, its own way of communicating, its own history and a real sense of aliveness and vibrancy. 

Deaf people can be incredibly proud of where they have come from, who they are and the community they belong to.

I recognise that feeling from my own upbringing.

For me, one of the most important things both cultures have in common is that sense of belonging. Of being part of something bigger than yourself. Of knowing who your people are.

My wife and I still respect the differences between our cultures, and I wouldn’t want to pretend that they are the same. They aren’t.

But I love the fact that, when we first met, I somehow found something familiar in a world that was completely new to me.

I started learning sign language because I wanted to communicate with the woman I loved.

Sixteen years later, I’m still learning about her world — and she’s still teaching me things about mine. And somewhere along the way, we’ve created a world of our own.

This blog has been shared anonymously as part of the Insight series – created by Assistant editor Rebecca A Withey.

If you have a story, experience or viewpoint you would like to anonymously share please email Rebecca on  rebecca@rawithey.com

Image courtesy of Pexels.