Commentary: Strong Deaf by Lynn E. McElfresh
PLEASE NOTE THAT I AM A HEARING PERSON WHO IS ACTIVELY LEARNING ABOUT DEAF CULTURE AND SIGN LANGUAGES. MY THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS PRESENTED IN THIS COMMENTARY COME FROM A HEARING PERSPECTIVE AND ARE THEREFORE NOT GOSPEL BY ANY MEANS. I AM STUDYING AND WRITING OUT OF A PERSONAL INTEREST AND CURIOSITY— NOT AS A SCHOLAR OR AUTHORITY ON THE TOPIC. TO LEARN MORE ABOUT DEAF CULTURE AND SIGN LANGUAGES, HONOR, LISTEN TO, AND RESPECT DEAF PEOPLE OVER THOSE OF US WHO ARE HEARING.
A story of sibling rivalry, Deaf culture, sign language, and relationships between Deaf and hearing people, Strong Deaf is an emotionally rich children’s/middle grade book that doesn’t shy away from the precariousness of communication— the tension inherent to being understood.
Lynn E. McElfresh— a hearing writer who grew up with a Deaf sister— structures the story almost like a dialogue, switching between two sisters, Jade who is hearing, and Marla who is Deaf. Jade’s chapters are written in English, while Marla’s chapters are written in ASL. How does that work? If you translate ASL directly into English, while keeping the syntax and meaning of ASL, then you get something like this,
“Surprise. Feeling same snake touch leg. Maybe scream, but no. Turn around, Beezley greet me. Not snake. Dog tail.”
The choice to divide the sisters even in voice illustrates the conflict, which rests on Jade and Marla’s shoulders—a constant battle to be understood. Mimicking the process of understanding itself, what begins as a clear “she’s right and she’s wrong” dynamic deepens and blurs as the story unfolds. As I got to know both Jade and Marla as individuals, I mourned the ravine of misunderstanding between them. I’ve never so desperately hoped for resolution.
Jade is the only hearing member of her family. And what a family it is. Jade refers to them as Strong Deaf— a term that measures people against a spectrum of what it means to be Deaf and thus a member of the Deaf community. Jade’s family is Strong Deaf because Marla, her mother, her father, both her maternal grandparents, her uncle and cousins are not only Deaf but leaders in the Deaf community. Even Beezley— the family dog— is deaf. Jade’s parents and cousins attended Gallaudet University, hallowed ground for the Deaf and hard-of-hearing. Her grandfather is the President of a nearby Deaf school. As the only hearing person in her family, Jade often feels left out— a feeling that manifests clearly in her relationship with Marla.
Marla is the quintessential big sister— argumentative at times, even a little bossy, but domineering, persistent, and, naturally, yearning for distance between herself and her younger sister. Autonomy. Empowered by her Strong Deaf family and a rich social life among fellow Deaf people, Marla is at the age where she is blossoming into her own individual self. Her hearing sister slows her down on that path. Marla perceives Jade as a silly, childish, and selfish person. And, at first, I felt the same way about Jade, while reading from Marla’s perspective. But then I started to feel differently when I read from Jade’s perspective.
Jade is jealous of Marla because she gets to attend an idyllic Deaf school— a paradise— where she stays for a majority of the school year, while Jade lives at home. But when summer break rolls around, Marla returns home and, from Jade’s perspective, invades her space. Marla is greeted with hostility— a territoriality that Jade emits with dark enthusiasm; a part of her likes seeing Marla frustrated. Upon first glance, this bolstered Marla’s argument that Jade is selfish. But then a peek behind the curtain— a memory from when Marla first left home to attend her Deaf school. As the little sister, Jade assumed she would follow in Marla’s footsteps and attend the same Deaf school. When Jade’s mother explains that she can’t go to Marla’s school because she isn’t Deaf, Jade thinks,
“Of course, I knew I was hearing but what did that have to do with anything?”
For readers who may not understand this sentiment, think about this: All Jade has known her entire life is Deaf culture. She is surrounded by it at home. She speaks fluent ASL because her entire family does. She is comfortable and at home with Deaf people. As much as a hearing person can get “it”, Jade gets it. But… she’s not Deaf. She’s hearing— a fact she both accepts and resents, a fact that prevents her from going to the same school as Marla.
“All the way home that week, I tried to plug my ears. But no matter how hard I tried to block the sounds out, I could hear my breathing, the hum of the tires. I didn’t think it was fair that I should be punished because I could hear.”
The depth of Jade’s identity insecurity brings tension between herself and Marla, who is allowed the clarity of knowing who she is. By this point, I felt differently about Marla’s attitude towards Jade. Jade isn’t selfish; Jade is struggling. Jade being territorial about her space at home is not selfish; it’s an attempt to have her own space, just like Marla gets to have her own space at school.
When Jade makes Marla feel unwelcome at home, Marla goes on the defense. She feels justified in bossing Jade around, belittling her, and sometimes seeking out ways to hurt her feelings. For a moment, Marla became the villain for me, as opposed to when Jade had appeared villainous at the beginning. Again, this did not last long.
Marla posits herself as the capable one. She is self-sufficient, intelligent, and decisive. She is a leader. But we see a crack in this identity at softball practice— a crack imposed by the hearing world. Marla and Jade play on the same softball team. Marla is the star athlete and Jade is the youngest, smallest on the team. Prior to this summer, they had been on separate teams for their respective age groups, but their dad moved them to the same team so that he didn’t have to drive as much to and from practices. But the softball coach offers a different reason: they are on the same team now so that Jade can interpret for Marla. Marla rejects this.
“I no need interpret from Jade. Independent always.”
But interactions between Marla and her hearing coach prove otherwise.
“Coach get wipe-off clipboard. Write big letter. CHOKE. Choke? Put hand on throat. Not choke. Try voice. “Fine,” I say. Speech teacher, Mr. Hendley, say my speech good. Coach W face show confuse. Not understand. He write more on board. Choke up on bat. I eat bat? I choke?”
When Marla realizes her mistake she thinks,
“Why not write, move hands up on the bat? Speech teacher say name for phrases like “choke up on the bat” is idiom. Hearing use many idiom. Make confuse.”
For Marla, her independence is central to her identity. When she is treated otherwise by hearing people and when her “childish” little sister is asked to interpret for her, Marla feels a sense of lost dominance, lost power, lost identity. This is worsened by Marla’s perception that Jade is annoyed by interpreting, like it’s a chore. Marla also knows that Jade sees this as a victory over her. HA! You need me after all. Like I said— it’s a battle. A family battle.
In an interview about Strong Deaf, Lynn E. McElfresh says,
“I want readers to understand that the struggle between deaf culture and hearing culture isn’t some huge society or community struggle, but on the most basic level a struggle within families.”
This struggle McElfresh references, to me, has everything to do with communication and the struggle to be heard, which is a common theme in writing about Deafness. As the tension between Jade and Marla mounts, we see the crux of it— neither one knows how to communicate with the other. Sure, they both speak the same language (ASL), but they don’t listen. As I sat on the back porch reading Strong Deaf under a blue sky, I got emotional realizing just how much the sisters shared and yet neither knew it. They both share a struggle for identity. Yet, each one sees the other has strong in their identity. Misconceptions. Assumptions. While the fighting got progressively worse, I never forgot just how close they were to resolving the conflict— if only they would actually listen. If they’d only meet each other half way. Ultimately, the story is a journey to meeting someone half way.
Out of the fiction books with Deaf and signing characters I have read thus far, Strong Deaf stands out. Deaf culture is more than a character trait or backstory; it’s the air the story breathes in and then exhales. It is the axis that the central conflict revolves around. Its gravity pulls characters in and shoots them out. The physics of it lace every sentence. You feel it with every page turn. For readers who crave stories about Deaf characters and culture, this would be the first on my list to recommend.