Introduction: Ruminations of a deaf, atheist, American Joe: My Bio

Greetings! My name is Kevin, and I'm a total virgin on this Steemit thing! Hopefully, this post shows up where I want it- my first blog post!

Yes, I'm deaf, and an atheist, and I'm so "regular joe", I'm quite boring! Nonetheless, here I am. I will attempt to write something of interest or at least entertaining to read. I guess I should start with a little background:

I'm from Lexington, KY originally, have lived in different parts of the state and now I live in this tiny town called Tullahoma, TN.

How did I become deaf? I wasn't born that way, but I was almost surely born with it going to happen. I believe my deafness is due to this virus that is called CMV- cytomegalovirus. It's a very common virus, and infections in most people result in a few cold symptoms at most. However, in two circumstances it is of grave danger: a person with a compromised immune system, or a pregnant woman. The virus enters the pregnant woman's body and makes its way to the developing baby via placenta. The results seem to depend greatly on which trimester stage the baby is in- birth defects, learning disabilities, blindness, deafness, even death are possible results. So, you could say I got lucky- I'm just deaf. Everything else works fine (for a 47 year old)!

I'm an "80s freak"! I was able to hear somewhat from an early age, but it got progressively worse. I could hear well enough to get into music along with my peers, especially after Mtv debuted. The visual sense added so much to my understanding of songs, because often lyrics weren't available and the speech range of sound was what I had the most difficulty hearing. So, much to my mother's dismay, I quite got into the 80s hair bands. Night Ranger remains a top favorite of mine to this day! I love many many other aspects of the 80s, too. Sadly, right around the same time period as the release of the Metallica "Black" album, my hearing had degraded so badly that I could no longer separate sounds- anything I listened to that I didn't already know by heart, was like seeing the world through the "static snow" of a malfunctioning television. It was at that point that I began searching for alternatives...

Thus I began learning sign language at the relatively ripe old age of 22! I befriended a fellow I had observed in several of my classes at Lexington Community College, who had interpreters in class with him. I bothered the interpreters incessantly, "hung out" with my new friend, and met many more Deaf people through him. The following semester, I took a class in sign language and had interpreters in all other classes I took. The difference was profound, in more ways than statistically (my grades improved dramatically). I was learning not just about an entirely new community that I could actually participate equally in, but also learning about myself!

Some years later, I transferred from community college to Eastern Kentucky University. I also changed my major- I had decided to become a teacher! The timing of my arrival on campus happened to coincide with the arrival of many Deaf students. I had the pleasure of friendship or at least casual aquaintance with nearly all of them. My memories of my time there are quite precious!

After seven long years of (somewhat undistracted) study, I graduated with my degree and headed out to the world to begin my career. It took another five long years to land the full teaching position. In the meantime, I worked as a substitute teacher, teacher's assistant, and sign language instructor, and moved around the state a fair bit. I obtained the full teaching position in a school district just outside of Louisville, KY in 2009. This began a very bittersweet phase of my life.

My mother was steadfast in her support of me throughout the years it took to get my degree. She stood by me just as steadily in the years it took to obtain the job. She shared my stresses, anxieties, and experiences, endured my rants and mistakes, and told me every time I visited how proud of me she was. (I'm the first in my immediate family to obtain a college degree.) Then, in 2009, one week before Thanksgiving break, my mother passed away suddenly at the age of 57. The shock was deep, as I'm sure it is for anyone losing a loved one. I very nearly left the teaching job to move to where I am now. But, I didn't. I stayed, partly for Mom.

Which turned out to be a pretty awful irony! The following school year, a new principal came to the school. The rumor mill had been that the district was looking for a "Hitler", and in my own humble opinion, I think it was true and they found them one. What ever the case may be... Near the end of the school year, I stayed after school helping some students in the poetry club learn to sign a song they wanted to do for a charity fund-raiser. That day, though, it wasn't happening- I could see they were tired from the arduous standardized testing of the prior few days. So, I let them know it was ok by folding a paper airplane and floating it across the room. The next thing I knew, we were in the gym and they were getting out the sports equipment! "Catch, Mr. Calkins!" came a yell from this rambunctious twelve-year-old spot of sunshine. Run, I did, until one foot stopped and the rest of me kept going! I landed on my ankle and the pain was quite intense. Did I take the next day off to go to the doctor? No sirree jim-bob-tail. I walked limping right on in to work. My students oohed and ahhed at the sight of my purple, black, and blue swollen foot and I laughed at them. At the end of the day, the principal calls me in to his office. I knew it wasn't good.

My job as a teacher of the Deaf ended in spring of 2011. "It's not you", the principal explained. "Special ed chair decided we won't have enough students, we have to let some one go, you're the newest so, you're it. Sorry." And that was that. For now, this bio already being entirely too long, I'm just gonna leave it there. I could say more, though.

Having no back-up plan, and with my grandmother here in Tullahoma not doing well, and my brother living nearby, I decided to move. I got a place, got packed up, made the move. My grandmother passed the following February. Again with the irony. My brother moved back to our hometown earlier this year. I remain here still. It's not a bad place, small town fifteen minutes away from Lynchburg, home of Jack Daniels.

So, that's how I got here and a bit of who I am. I hope you're not asleep! Hit the 'like' button or I guess it's "upvote" if you made it all the way and enjoyed. I look forward to being a part of the steemit community!

Regards!
J. Kevin Calkins