sunset meditation
As the sun moved lower in the sky on this Sabbath evening, I got a whim to watch the sunset. Four minutes later, I found myself here:
What this picture doesn't show you is the rich smell of salty air, tender kisses of couples young and old, a brisk wind bouncing off the waves, laughter of children climbing large hunks of driftwood and excavating the rocky shore. It was a rich scene, and my heart felt open to all its beauty and complexity.
En route to "my" spot on the shore, I offered to photograph a young family who was frolicking and photographing each other on the beach. The mother motioned instructions to me on how to use her camera. I assumed she didn't speak English, motioned back my response, and tried very hard not to be that person who yells as an obviously ineffective way to communicate across a language barrier. I made eye contact with the dad in search for a sign of English-speaking, but he didn't seem to speak English either. So I proceeded with hand motions, exaggerate facial expressions, and obnoxious, slow loud-talking. Four pictures & lots *said communication later, the dad said, 'thank you' and then proceeded to sign words to the mother & children. And I finally figured it out... This family (or at least the parents) is deaf.
In some ways, I'm glad I didn't realize the parents were deaf until my interaction with them was over. I'm sure that had I known that initially, I would have done lots of awkward things to mask my discomfort and feign fluency and competency in communicating with people who are deaf. This would be an overcompensation for my obvious biases and a desperate attempt to hold my ego in tact. It's kind of hilarious to think about that "oh, this is totally normal for me," instinct given that I DON'T KNOW ANYONE WHO IS DEAF. Are you kidding me with the fluency and competency crap? Oh, this ego of mine.
Since ignorance to this family's situation guarded me from my egotistical flubberings, I instead found myself in the midst of a genuine encounter - photographing a gorgeous family in the ethereal, yellow light of the setting sun.
It was an honor to capture their natural glory in those moments. In their mere existence as people who are deaf (i.e., people who are different from me), they unwittingly broadened my narrow view of the world and allowed me to see love and beauty in a way that was quite unexpected. I didn't get a chance to objectify them & put my stereotypes & biases on them until after I had truly seen them as individual people. By that time, my biases felt too empty and meaningless to be taken seriously. It was lovely.
Once I settled into my spot on the beach, I mostly focused on my knitting, the birds, mountains, and water before me. But I occasionally caught glimpses of this family, and my thoughts certainly drifted in and out of wondering what each of their worlds are like. What a perfect gift at the end of this Sabbath and what a lovely way to begin my week.
En route to "my" spot on the shore, I offered to photograph a young family who was frolicking and photographing each other on the beach. The mother motioned instructions to me on how to use her camera. I assumed she didn't speak English, motioned back my response, and tried very hard not to be that person who yells as an obviously ineffective way to communicate across a language barrier. I made eye contact with the dad in search for a sign of English-speaking, but he didn't seem to speak English either. So I proceeded with hand motions, exaggerate facial expressions, and obnoxious, slow loud-talking. Four pictures & lots *said communication later, the dad said, 'thank you' and then proceeded to sign words to the mother & children. And I finally figured it out... This family (or at least the parents) is deaf.
In some ways, I'm glad I didn't realize the parents were deaf until my interaction with them was over. I'm sure that had I known that initially, I would have done lots of awkward things to mask my discomfort and feign fluency and competency in communicating with people who are deaf. This would be an overcompensation for my obvious biases and a desperate attempt to hold my ego in tact. It's kind of hilarious to think about that "oh, this is totally normal for me," instinct given that I DON'T KNOW ANYONE WHO IS DEAF. Are you kidding me with the fluency and competency crap? Oh, this ego of mine.
Since ignorance to this family's situation guarded me from my egotistical flubberings, I instead found myself in the midst of a genuine encounter - photographing a gorgeous family in the ethereal, yellow light of the setting sun.
Once I settled into my spot on the beach, I mostly focused on my knitting, the birds, mountains, and water before me. But I occasionally caught glimpses of this family, and my thoughts certainly drifted in and out of wondering what each of their worlds are like. What a perfect gift at the end of this Sabbath and what a lovely way to begin my week.
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