Cloe

‘Auslan is powerful and it empowers Deaf people. It is the birth right of Deaf people to have access to sign language. It is a visual, spatial language that fits Deaf people. With Auslan I can truly express myself and I can access the world.’ 

Cloe, in her 30s, is Deaf.

‘Growing up as the only person [in the family] who cannot hear was incredibly difficult,’ Cloe told the Royal Commission. ‘When I was born my parents assumed I could hear just like them … The GP told mum, “I am very sorry, but your daughter is deaf,” upon which mum burst into tears.’

Cloe said after a few months grieving, her mum decided to learn Auslan.  

‘The only person in my family who learnt to sign was my mum and I value her so much for doing this.’

Her mum enrolled her in a primary school where there were several other Deaf kids.  

‘I was part of a community there and the students and staff were like my family. It was the beginning of my connection to the Deaf community too.’

One of her Auslan teachers was so good she inspired Cloe to help disadvantaged kids when she grew up. Cloe went to high school believing it would be like primary school, but said it was terrible.

‘I didn’t receive an adequate education and my access needs weren’t met. I was bullied relentlessly by the hearing students and I attribute this to being the only Deaf kid in my class.’

Because English is her second language she struggled to learn. In year 11 she switched to a school which employed full-time interpreters.

‘That school was excellent. We were treated like adults and everyone was lovely to me. There was still a small Deaf unit at that school and I got a lot of support from them.’

Cloe tried to pursue her dream of helping kids and did a tertiary course in community studies, but an agency couldn’t find her a job. Instead she was offered manual work at a disability enterprise. 

‘I am Deaf, my ears don’t work, but that’s it. I do not identify with the broader disability community at all. As a Deaf person once my interpreting needs are met I have no disability and no barriers.’

When her mum developed cancer, her family didn’t think Cloe needed to know ‘all the details’. She had to ask her mum’s doctor what was going on.

‘It was many, many months from when my family knew mum was dying until I stood up for myself and found out too.’

Cloe said even then she struggled to get information from hospitals.

‘In all the medical and specialist appointments I went to with mum I never had interpreters present so I didn’t know what was being said.’

Because her mum was the only one in her family who spoke Auslan, when her mum died there was no other family member she could talk with.

‘I’ve become more independent since then, though.’

Cloe now teaches kids Auslan. She has also learnt to drive.

‘Mum and dad would never let me learn to drive because I was deaf. I told them so many times that lots of Deaf people drive, and they would see my Deaf friends come over in their cars, but I was told I couldn’t do it.’

She said many people in the community still assume she can’t do things and ask her ‘stupid questions’.

‘I’ve had doctors question me about why I was bringing an interpreter to an appointment. I’ve had doctors talk directly to the interpreter like I wasn’t there, like I was invisible. Even when the interpreters ask the doctor to address me directly they continue to look away from me.’

‘I feel like jumping up and yelling, “Hello. Here I am. Look at me.”’