wouldn’t you avoid men young enough to be your son?’
‘But she thought her son was dead,’ said Mel.
‘That’s true. And maybe she had no choice?’ I suggested. ‘If she was fated to marry her son, and even sending him away to die on a hillside wasn’t enough to change that fate, maybe nothing could, and she had no free will at all.’
‘That’s really fucking bleak,’ said Jono, leaning onto the arm of his chair, which gave a quiet creak.
‘But no-one would believe that,’ said Annika.
‘Really? Do you read your horoscope?’ I asked her.
‘Sometimes,’ she said, frowning. Annika saw potential tricks and humiliations everywhere.
‘Then aren’t you agreeing to a world where your destiny for that day or week or whatever is dictated by your birthday?’
She shrugged.
‘So that’s what I want you all to think about before I see you again. Free will, and how much of it you think you have. Do you believe in destiny? Or do you think what happens in your life is entirely up to you? Try to read the first act of the play, or some of it at least. Then write me a side of paper.’
They groaned as they put their things into their bags and headed out, but they had all stayed to the end. Maybe Robert had been right, I thought. Maybe I would be alright at this. Maybe I would even like it.
4
DD,
Everything’s changed, after Annika made her big scene last week. I don’t like her at all, most of the time. She’s such a bitch, and no-one ever calls her on it except Jono and me. Last week, when she stormed out of our first lesson with Alex, she called her a cunt. As she was leaving, I mean. She was walking right past her desk when she said it, and it was loud enough for me to hear even though she was facing away from me. Alex didn’t react at all, though. She just sat there like she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
By the time we were out of the classroom, Annika had gone, left the Unit, I mean. I wanted to go after her and talk to her, because it just isn’t OK to speak to someone like that on their first day. But Carly wouldn’t let me, so we wrote an anonymous note and left it in Robert’s pigeonhole. I wonder if Alex noticed how much nicer Annika was being today? She doesn’t want to get kicked out of Rankeillor any more than the rest of us do, even though she’s always saying she does. She says she hates her mum and she doesn’t care what happens, but I bet that’s not really true.
Still, Annika being a bitch paid off in some ways. I’ve been at Rankeillor for three months now, and all we’ve done is basic skills and key skills and the rest of it has all been music therapy, art therapy, personal development, anger management. It’s been bothering me – aren’t we going to be behind when we go back to proper school, or to college or whatever? But now we’re reading a play by Sophocles, who I hadn’t even heard of last week. Alex wants us to think about whether we have a destiny. So is it my destiny that I can’t hear? Or can I just not hear?
Since I’ve decided I might want to be a journalist, I’ve been reading more blogs and stuff. And here’s what I’ve noticed: they’re all about the writer. I mean, they seem to be about something else – something the writer is, or likes, or cares about – but those are just ways for the writers to talk about themselves. It’s a bit fake, I think. I’m not going to pretend I’m talking about something else when I’m talking about me. I’ll just talk about me when I want to.
So here are ten things you might not know about being deaf:
1) I can’t hear you if we’re outside and there is a lot of traffic. The traffic is always louder than your voice, and because it’s lower-pitched, I can hear it more easily than I can hear your voice.
2) I can’t hear you if you don’t enunciate properly. Mumbling at a deaf person is really fucking rude.
3) I can’t always hear you if you don’t face me. I know it’s weird talking to
‘But she thought her son was dead,’ said Mel.
‘That’s true. And maybe she had no choice?’ I suggested. ‘If she was fated to marry her son, and even sending him away to die on a hillside wasn’t enough to change that fate, maybe nothing could, and she had no free will at all.’
‘That’s really fucking bleak,’ said Jono, leaning onto the arm of his chair, which gave a quiet creak.
‘But no-one would believe that,’ said Annika.
‘Really? Do you read your horoscope?’ I asked her.
‘Sometimes,’ she said, frowning. Annika saw potential tricks and humiliations everywhere.
‘Then aren’t you agreeing to a world where your destiny for that day or week or whatever is dictated by your birthday?’
She shrugged.
‘So that’s what I want you all to think about before I see you again. Free will, and how much of it you think you have. Do you believe in destiny? Or do you think what happens in your life is entirely up to you? Try to read the first act of the play, or some of it at least. Then write me a side of paper.’
They groaned as they put their things into their bags and headed out, but they had all stayed to the end. Maybe Robert had been right, I thought. Maybe I would be alright at this. Maybe I would even like it.
4
DD,
Everything’s changed, after Annika made her big scene last week. I don’t like her at all, most of the time. She’s such a bitch, and no-one ever calls her on it except Jono and me. Last week, when she stormed out of our first lesson with Alex, she called her a cunt. As she was leaving, I mean. She was walking right past her desk when she said it, and it was loud enough for me to hear even though she was facing away from me. Alex didn’t react at all, though. She just sat there like she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
By the time we were out of the classroom, Annika had gone, left the Unit, I mean. I wanted to go after her and talk to her, because it just isn’t OK to speak to someone like that on their first day. But Carly wouldn’t let me, so we wrote an anonymous note and left it in Robert’s pigeonhole. I wonder if Alex noticed how much nicer Annika was being today? She doesn’t want to get kicked out of Rankeillor any more than the rest of us do, even though she’s always saying she does. She says she hates her mum and she doesn’t care what happens, but I bet that’s not really true.
Still, Annika being a bitch paid off in some ways. I’ve been at Rankeillor for three months now, and all we’ve done is basic skills and key skills and the rest of it has all been music therapy, art therapy, personal development, anger management. It’s been bothering me – aren’t we going to be behind when we go back to proper school, or to college or whatever? But now we’re reading a play by Sophocles, who I hadn’t even heard of last week. Alex wants us to think about whether we have a destiny. So is it my destiny that I can’t hear? Or can I just not hear?
Since I’ve decided I might want to be a journalist, I’ve been reading more blogs and stuff. And here’s what I’ve noticed: they’re all about the writer. I mean, they seem to be about something else – something the writer is, or likes, or cares about – but those are just ways for the writers to talk about themselves. It’s a bit fake, I think. I’m not going to pretend I’m talking about something else when I’m talking about me. I’ll just talk about me when I want to.
So here are ten things you might not know about being deaf:
1) I can’t hear you if we’re outside and there is a lot of traffic. The traffic is always louder than your voice, and because it’s lower-pitched, I can hear it more easily than I can hear your voice.
2) I can’t hear you if you don’t enunciate properly. Mumbling at a deaf person is really fucking rude.
3) I can’t always hear you if you don’t face me. I know it’s weird talking to
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