SCENE ONE

(TWO HISPANIC MEN sit on stage on a box or bench. They are sitting back to back with their knees pulled up to their chest. Both men can be similar height and weight, although, any variation is acceptable.

V FREDY, age 35-45 means “voice”. D FREDY, can be any adult, male or female who either, preferably 1) Deaf or 2) fluent in American Sign Language [referred to as: ASL].

Spanish music plays as the lights come up. Both men stir and stand, in a fright, and stare at one another.

V Fredy begins dancing to the music. D Fredy observes him, curiously. The music slowly fades and V Fredy dances less and less until the music stops and he stops and plops on the bench, looking up, sad.

D Fredy comes up behind him and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. V Fredy looks up at D Fredy and observes him.

D Fredy convinces V Fredy to stand and come with him. D Fredy dances to no music for a moment or two. V Fredy watches him and notices the beauty in his silent movement.)

V FREDY: Very good! Where is your music?

(D Fredy smiles kindly, and with his face shows he does not understand. He signs).

D FREDY
in ASL): Deaf. Sorry.

(D Fredy lowers his head and backs away from V Fredy. Stage Right D Fredy faces the audience as V Fredy moves center stage to tell his story.

D Fredy will sign V Fredy’s dialogue until specified differently in the script.)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): I am a man. I am not Mexican or Puerto Rican. I have been asked, accused and pointed out as one or the other. I am from Guatemala. It is a beautiful country! I identify with my Spanish ancestors. I identify with my Mayan culture. I live in America. I am deaf.

I was born hearing. My identity, nevertheless, is that of a deaf man. A Guatemalan man. I am an Artist. I am a son. I was a husband. I am a father. I cannot hear you.

No matter how loud you speak or scream. So, please stop! It is interesting how the hearing will speak louder, or yell, when you point out you are deaf. It doesn’t help. Trust me.

I know more than you about people. I see them. I see inside them. I see in their eyes what they think, what they feel.

V FREDY
How I ended up in America is one story. How I ended up deaf is another story. How I became homeless, I am not sure.

It was 1963, Guatemala City. I was born, like all of you. Hearing. I was the third child of what would eventually be five children, in a troubled marriage. I was a happy child and the favorite of my oldest sister and brother. I loved music!

(Spanish music comes up again, a little quieter and continues to play lightly.)

V FREDY
(D FREDY; in ASL): When I just under a year old, something changed.

(The music goes up and then suddenly just stops, abruptly).

(D FREDY; in ASL): The family tells two stories.
The first one my mother says I was moving about, as babies do and she lost her grip on me. I fell hard onto the floor and landed on the back of my head.

She said a lot of liquid came pouring from both my ears and I was rushed to the hospital. After looking into my ears, the doctor sent me home.

I was a changed child. I no longer responded to music and as I learned to walk, I held my head down.

The other story my mother told was about a trip to the beach. I was with my uncle and slipped under the water for a long time.

No matter which story is true, at the age of 9-months-old, I became who I am. Deaf.

A deaf boy. A deaf boy in a hearing family.



I was an alien.

I didn’t understand why my brother and sisters moved their mouths and were allowed to go out, by themselves, and play.


(D Fredy goes to V Fredy and walks around him. Observing his mouth from every angle.)

V FREDY
(D FREDY; in ASL): My wonderful mother kept me close to her. We did communicate in our own way.

(V Fredy pulls D Fredy in for a close hug. D Fredy struggles a bit. Then, relaxes into the embrace.

V Fredy releases him, runs his hand on his face. In a motherly way. D Fredy does the same to V Fredy and goes back to address the audience in ASL.)

V FREDY
(D FREDY; in ASL): I was not like my siblings. I was not like their friends. I was not like my mother or father. My father moved away when I was about 5-years-old.

Not long after, there was a new man in the house. He was not my father.

He, like my family, was not like me, either.

My cousins, and there were many, were not like me. I was the only one in the world.

(Both men move to opposite corners of the stage, or area. A single spotlight on each one. They have their backs to one another.

Perhaps a piece of music [i.e. The Sound of Silence softly plays]. The men turn in a slow circle, looking around for someone. They do not see one another).

V FREDY
(D FREDY; in ASL): There was abuse. By a female cousin who was 13-years-old when I was about four. She was family. She was trusted to be my babysitter. What she did to me was unspeakable. Unspeakable by me. I did not speak. I did not know how. I did not understand speaking.

My cousin knew I would not tell anyone. She touched me often. I could not stop her. I did not understand.

(Music stops or fades. Lights come up and both actors move center stage, side by side)

V FREDY
(D FREDY; in ASL): When I was about 3-years-old, my mother left for a short while. When she came back, there was a tiny little creature with her. My baby sister.

She was precious. Her eyes would be closed for hours and hours. I would lean over the crib and just watch this precious girl sleep and wait for her to move.

D FREDY: (D Fredy in front of V Fredy and acts out this scene. Mixing ASL and actually acting out the moments.)

V FREDY: I tried opening her eyes. My mother slapped away my hands and made it clear to never open her eyes. I went back to watching her. The minute her eyes opened or a tear fell down her eyes, I ran to show my mother the miracle!

(Both stand side by side)



V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): I knew it was wonderful and I understood, clearly, was it was to love your family.


I couldn’t hear them. I could feel them. I knew my mother loved me.

She wanted me always by her side.

She was happy when I was watched Lara, the baby who slept so beautifully. A precious girl. I loved her little face, her tiny hands.

And I wanted, so much, to go outside with my brother. To have the adventures he must be having in a world I didn’t know . . . didn’t understand . . . that didn’t include me. The alien. The one that was different from everyone.

When I was about six, something was different. My mother put me in a new outfit. She was a fine seamstress. She had never done this before. She was also particularly well dressed. She took me by the hand and took me to town.

I was amazed to see so many people. They were very much like everyone else I had seen. They were like my mother, my siblings, and my stepfather. They moved their mouths and communicated.

I was not like them.

My mother took me on this big truck. A bus, I know this now. And we rode there for a long way. My mother was sad. I was not. This was exciting, different, amazing. I saw beautiful land, Guatemala!

We arrived at a large building. The largest I had ever seen. Much bigger than out house. It had writing on the outside. I could not read.

As my mother led me by the hand inside, we met a man. A grown-up, like my stepfather, except he wore a suit. After some hesitation, my mother led me outside to a playground. I had never seen a playground. And in this playground, there were children.

The children were like my siblings. At least, I thought so. Yet, something was different. My mother motioned me to go play with them. I hesitated, as I was not allowed, at home, to leave her side.

Now, here she was sending me out, alone, to play.

I approached a little girl, sitting by herself, playing in the sand.

(Both actors sit on the stage and face one another. They act out the scene. V Fredy playing the girl and D Fredy playing himself at the young age)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): I sat in front of her, expecting her to be like my own little sister.

She looked up at me, startled I was there. She pointed at me and made a few shapes with her hands. Similar to the way I spoke to my mother. Still, it was different.

It didn’t take long. I noticed, very quickly, she didn’t even attempt to move her mouth. Something everyone did! Why wasn’t she moving her mouth – she stared at me. Demanding! Using the hand motion again and staring, waiting for me.

I was in awe! Could it be true?



(Both actors stand up and awkwardly part. They go down stage, with a bit of space between them . . . addressing the audience.)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): I stood up and backed away a bit. I looked around. All the children there. They were staring. Even if they used their mouths. They watched carefully and used hand signs. They stared like I did.

I looked back at the girl. I pointed at her and back at me.

She is like me. Hallelujah!

(D Fredy runs around the stage. Happy, celebrating! He goes to V Fredy. They high five or do the chest butt, all signs up celebration!)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): Yes, she is the same as me. I looked at her and waiting. I pointed at her and me. At her ears and my ears. She made it clear.

We are the same. I was not alone! I was not the only one in this world. There. No, here, there were people the same as me.

(Both actors can, at this point, approach the audience and sign to them. Just like before . . . Are you like me? Are we the same? Shake hands or sign “I love you”.)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): I was overjoyed! I found my people! I was no longer an alien.

I played with my people. My world was new. I could share my journey with others like me.

(The mood slows as both actors look in the same direction. Behind the audience. A brief sadness as one watching someone fade away.)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): As I was prepared to run and thank my mother for finding my people, I saw her crying and walking away from the front of the building.

I didn’t want to leave my new friends. My people. I was happy to be here. I smiled at my mother and inside my heart, I know I was thanking her for finding my home.

I would live in this deaf school; the only one in Central America, for the next 12 years. I went home on holidays, summer’s, of course; and was with my wonderful family.

The little deaf girl, Juana Ruth, would, years later, become my wife and the mother of my son, Juan Miguel.

For now, though, I welcomed the new adventure; which would prove to be difficult and teach me how the hearing, to this day, do not really understand us . . . the deaf.

This is why you scream at us, talk more loudly when you learn we are deaf. It is why you, the hearing, think it an easy decision to have surgery and get cochlear implants.

You do not understand. We are not sad that we are deaf. We are proud!

In fact, at my school, they only accepted, technically HOH; that means hard of hearing students.

You see, the deaf school in Guatemala, in those days, refused to allow sign language! We were forced to live in the hearing world. If we invented our own sign language, and we did, and we were caught, they would beat our hands with rulers or tie them behind us.

I became quite incorrigible and the school never caught on that I was profoundly deaf. Perhaps my first six years of being with only hearing people made me a better actor? I am highly intelligent. I am certainly not stupid.

That’s another misconception you hearing people have about deaf people. That we are “dumb”. We are just like you. Many of us have high IQs, some average and some lower. It depends on the person. That’s all.

I graduated the deaf school, fluent in Spanish. We were taught to speak aloud, read and write in Spanish. We learned some Spanish Sign Language, too.

Yes, let’s talk about another misconception about the deaf. At least, in America! Hearing people of your country are under the impression that American Sign Language is universal.

LOL! Then, when you find out it is not, you tell us “it should be”.

My best friend, Angela, she was my hearing girlfriend for six years; she will ask people: How can sign language be universal?. Think about it: Do German people use the same word for toilet as Americans? Do Russian or Japanese people use the same exact word for toilet?

Here’s the sign for “toilet” in American Sign Language. We use the letter “t” and move it around like this.

(Both actors sign “toilet”)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): Well, if you do that, let’s say in Japan. Their word for “toilet” starts with a “b” . . . and their alphabet is different. How would it, or could it be universal?

Only if we taught the world to speak American English, then we could make it universal.

The only countries that use ASL, American Sign Language, are America and Canada.

Now, I want to talk about my journey to manhood.

When I graduated high school with honors -- I went into printing. I was always an artist and dreamed of moving to America one day.

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL):I imagined owning a car and living in the U.S. My family and friends thought I was crazy.

My family never learned any form of sign language; which worked fine as I was fluent in Spanish.

My deaf friends and I learned sign language; there were just starting to teach it to the deaf in Guatemala. The sign language presented in Guatemala was a mix of ASL and SSL. I dreamt of learning ASL. I was intrigued to know there were deaf people who spoke fully in their own language! A language just for the deaf!

Wonderful!

I applied for a program that would take me to America, Gallaudet University in Washington D.C., for two years. I would learn ASL and learn a trade. I would be able to bring these skills back to Guatemala. Perhaps start my own business!

A deaf man with his own business! I would be the first in my country to do that!

I was dating Juana Ruth. She was the only deaf woman in our village. Everyone; her family and mine, expected we would marry.

I loved her, but I wanted to do the program in America and come back and marry her.

I was accepted into the program! Our families insisted we marry before I left Guatemala. So, not quite ready, I did what they asked.

Juana Ruth and I married in a civil ceremony at the courthouse in Guatemala City.

The program had a strict policy, which I didn’t know about, until after the wedding: The participants could NOT be married or have children.

I was dropped from the program.c I was devastated.

(D Fredy collapses to the floor. H Fredy goes to him and lifts him up.)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): My mother, who never could bear to see me hurt, contacted her brother, my uncle. He was a lawyer. He made some calls and found a program for me. It would still take me to America for two years. I would learn ASL and learn business. It would take me to Los Angeles, California. Alone.

I wanted it badly and left behind my pregnant wife. I promised to return for the birth.

I wrote her regularly and had plane tickets prepared for the due date of our child. I sent her all the money I received from my new job at McDonalds. I was excited to tell Juana about ASL and learning to read and write in English!

My uncle had to do some things to get me here.

First, due to my past in Guatemala, when I was 19, I was involved with a gang who were anti-government. We wore masks and would threw rocks at the soldiers. Although I never shot anyone. I witnessed people shot to death in the street. It was a war.

Due to this past, my uncle was able to get me a work visa under the law of “asylum”. I have been able to stay in America for nearly 20-years on “asylum”.

Around 2004, the immigration department merged with homeland security. No matter what country one was from, they refused to renew any “asylum” cases. My work visa expired. Immigration, to this day, has refused to send me back to my mother and family in Guatemala. I cannot find work.

The day before I was to fly back to Guatemala, in 1990; when I still had my work visa; for the birth of my son, Juan Miguel. I was riding my bicycle in Long Beach, California and was hit by car. I was in a coma for a week with brain swelling. The hospital did not know who I was or that I was deaf.

When I awoke, a week later, someone had discovered who I was and my deaf roommates were there.

It took a while to recover, and in that time; Juana told me only a little about my son. She never said she missed me and seemed angry I was injured. She asked me for money in her letters, refusing to move to America because she heard she “would be raped” by the American men.

I learned, in my small village in Guatemala, the people have many misconceptions about America.

I finally met my son, Juan Miguel, when he was 3-years-old, though. He was hearing and very smart!

Juana Ruth made sure the boy respected and loved me. I was happy for that.

Juan adored me! I started to teach him English and ASL at the same time.

(H Fredy now does a scene with D Fredy: H Fredy becomes 3-year-old Juan Miguel. D Fredy sits on the bench. H Fredy, as a boy, sits at his feet and smile up at his padre!)

D FREDY
(out loud w/ASL): 1 . . . 2 . . . 3.
(points at Juan)

V FREDY
(copying): 1 . . . YOU . . .

(to audience)
My son knew that in Spanish “tu” means you. He did not understand that “2” was “dos” in English. I tried again.

D FREDY
number in ASL): Uno . . . Dos . . . Tres

V FREDY
(copies him perfectly): Uno . . . Dos . . . Tres

V FREDY
(in English & ASL): Uno . . .One, Dos . . . Two, Tres . . . Three

V FREDY
(as Juan): One . . .Two . . . YOU!

(D Fredy hugs V Fredy and they go back to the positions where D Fredy addresses the audience in ASL, and H Fredy continues his story to the audience)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): That was the last time I saw Juan Miguel in person. It was the last time I saw my mother and my family in person.

In these years since, Juan ended up being raised my Juana Ruth’s mother. Juana has married or become engaged to another man and has a baby. We never divorced.

At least, that I know of; nevertheless, the marriage was over after that.

My son has contacted me. He is an adult now and teaching physical education in Guatemala. He still loves me.

It is strange how he and I share something in common. We both lost our father at a young age. I have also been in touch with my biological father. I love him as Juan Miguel loves me.

Fifteen years ago, I had an affair with a deaf woman from Poland. We lived together in California. After she became pregnant with my daughter, Anika, she moved away to Pennsylvania.

I didn’t hear from her until my daughter was 5-years-old, when my ex-girlfriend, Jolanta, filed for child support. Later, Jolanta would lose Anika to foster care.

In 2004, Angela and I moved to Pennsylvania to attempt to gain custody of Anika. She had already bonded with her foster parents.

The saddest day of my life, in private chambers, after one year and a half of visitation, my 8-year-old daughter asked me to sign the adoption papers; to sever all parental rights.

I did, telling my daughter how I may never be able to see her again. She wanted me to sign.

Despite the foster parents’ verbal agreement to let Anika and I visit twice a year; once they adopted her: I have not seen my daughter since 2005, only a month before her 9th birthday.

Soon after, I granted my daughter’s wish. Angela and I decided to be friends. We are best friends. She returned to New York.

(Both actors move center stage. D Fredy sits on the bench. V Fredy stands behind him.)

V FREDY
(D FREDY: in ASL): April 24th, 2010, I turned 47-years-old. On April 28, 2010, Anika, my precious daughter, turned 14-years-old. She’s a young woman now. I miss her.

My life, in Pennsylvania, as a deaf man; a father without his children; a married man without a wife; a man without a country has been enough to consider suicide.

I live in a homeless shelter. My work visa expired years ago. I have no savings and cannot come up with money to pay for my citizenship.

I have been in America for over 20 years.

I still believe in America. I did own a car and many of my dreams from childhood came true.

I am fluent in American Sign Language. I can speak English, although, as a deaf man, I prefer not to speak aloud. I love my culture . . . the deaf.

I love American Sign Language. It gave me full communication. It gave me my own language.

I still hope to live an American dream. I still have hope.

I am still deaf. I am a deaf man.

I am a father. I am proud to be Guatemalan. I am intelligent. I am willing to work.

I become homeless and am a man without a country. Immigration will not hear my plea and will not send me home I have no lawyer or interpreter to help me.

There are none so deaf as those who do not hear.

I hear you. I see you with my eyes. I listen more in this way. I am an artist. I am a man. A deaf man. I am a proud man.

Impressum

Texte: All rights reserved, 2010
Bildmaterialien: Art Work: Fredy Adolfo Gonzalez De Leon
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 15.03.2010

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Widmung:
To you, Fredy...for sharing your story with me. To all the deaf people out there who were or are forced to live in the hearing world.