"I've spent my life determined to be one of a kind perhaps because I'm a twin. During our birth, my younger-by-two-minutes brother's umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. It cut off my air supply, which left me deaf, while his hearing was unimpaired. That's sibling rivalry for you. I use hearing aids and am a strong lip reader, as well as being fluent in British Sign Language. When I take my aids out to sleep,"
"But with them in I have fairly clear access to sound. I grew up in Hackney, east London, and had been fascinated by raving ever since I spied my older cousins coming home from illegal parties at six in the morning. On New Year's Eve in 1993, I finally went to my first one. The second I walked through that door, I was hit by the lights and smoke, the throbbing beats, the bodies moving joyfully as one. I was hooked."
"I spent weekends bouncing about like a ragamuffin in airport hangars, basements and disused factories all over the country. I started learning to DJ, spending the wages I earned from working in a warehouse on UK garage and reggae records. Yet, despite being a dedicated raver for a decade, I hardly ever encountered other deaf people on those dancefloors. I think I met a grand total of two."
A twin suffered birth-related oxygen loss that caused deafness in one sibling while the other retained hearing. The deaf sibling relies on hearing aids, strong lip reading, and British Sign Language, and experiences near-total silence without aids. A fascination with raving began in 1993, leading to DJing and weekends at large illegal parties and warehouses. Deaf clubbers were rare and exclusion occurred, including being turned away by a bouncer. To increase inclusion and social opportunities, a deaf raver organized the world's first rave by deaf people, exploring vibrating floors and tactile vests while facing venue-booking challenges.
Read at www.theguardian.com
Unable to calculate read time
Collection
[
|
...
]