What one deaf student hears

In "Paradise Lost," Milton justifies his blindness by saying it forced him to look within, so he could "see and tell of things invisible to mortal sight."

Like Milton, I justified my disability as other-worldly. I needed to be deaf because it forced me to gain a unique perspective that I wouldn't otherwise have. Justifying my deafness allowed me to give meaning to something that has often been problematic for me.

Because I was born and raised in the hearing world — and consequently never learned sign language or met very many other deaf people — I've always been on the outside looking in. I read lips, so it's hard to fit into the larger scene because I can really understand people only when they are talking directly to me. It's almost impossible for me to understand what's going on around me, whether in the dining halls or on the 'Street' or even when I am with friends.

I think that I've been more free than most people, in a sense, to form my own ideas about what's happening around me. Because I couldn't really follow what was going on at school in the hallways or the cafeteria, I wasn't bound by peer pressure as much as my friends were. As a result, I was able to achieve a different outlook on life than other people because I became more self-reflective and philosophical than I might otherwise have been.

Also as a result of my deafness, I focused more on individual pursuits. In high school I ran track and played a little tennis. I love to play chess because it's a creative game that engages two people in an intellectual exchange of moves. I was fortunate enough to learn the finer points of the game from a family friend, and I won the New Jersey state scholastic championship in my junior year in high school. I don't think I would have won the tournament if I hadn't been deaf because I think I would have been too distracted by other, more social endeavors.

I think I compensated for missing out on what was happening all around me by reading a lot — I remember one summer I read 147 books.

My deafness also moved me to write more. Writing is a venue that allows me to express my thoughts in a way that I might not otherwise be able to. Whereas people might have trouble understanding what I say, no one can misunderstand what I write. Eventually, I think I will do some type of writing for a living because it's a good way to share my ideas with people.

It is in all these ways that my deafness has worked to shape me. I often wonder what I would be like if I weren't deaf. I really can't begin to fathom it, but I'm pretty sure I would still be a good student because my family places a strong emphasis on education and my sister is also strong academically. Sometimes I even imagine that I'm part of some grand experiment where I have an identical twin who is just like me, with normal hearing, out there somewhere.

I used to think I would be deaf for only a short time, until my deafness had done its job shaping me. Then, when I was molded into form, I would miraculously hear. Armed with my unique perspective, I would then be ready to assume my place in the real world and be prepared to lead and set examples for others.

Even though I still sometimes play around with this idea in my head, I've come to realize that I won't literally hear any time soon. What I've come to realize instead is that my disability is an opportunity for me to hear and tell of things unheard by ordinary people.

Michael Stein'03 is a 'Prince' Staff Writer from Maplewood, N.J.

'A Glimpse Within' is a weekly column in which we ask members of the Princeton community to share personal experiences. The 'Prince' welcomes submissions of about 650 words to The Newsroom.