Initiation

This poem is about my experience as a deaf Black boy, receiving hearing aids, and adjusting to the ways I had to exist within a white supremacist and hearing world.

II.

Some weeks or months later

I was sitting in a plastic chair

and told to be still while

the specialist inserted my first

pair of hearing aids. I wanted

them out but was told I needed

to wear them. I had to let it happen.

I.

I remember the squishiness

the mold gun injected

into my ears. Just 3 years old, not knowing

what was happening. Only the cold

bubblegum pink resin filling

my ear canal. I felt like

I was being buried alive.

IV.

like Simba

to the hyenas at

the Elephant Graveyard

I distract them.

But I know I stand

out. I imagine

my superhero and what could be

III.

I’m in Headstart. Waiting

in the line at a drinking fountain.

The other kids gawk

at my aids. I’m unsettled.

But I was wearing a hoodie

so I pulled it over my ears.

“I’m a lion!” And I roar

VI.

Mom said respectable Black

boys and men keep

their shoes clean,

their clothes ironed,

say, “ma’am” and “sir”

and, most importantly,

keep their hair short.

V.

Batman, Spider-Man,

The Power Rangers:

they all wear

masks to protect

themselves. Even

Samson had long hair

that covered his ears.

VII.

Now a grown man,

my respectable

hair reaches

past my shoulders.

Sometimes the tips

of my aids are caught

in my dreads.

About the Author

Marquise is a doctoral student in the Joint English and Education program. He wears hearing aids as a result of severe hearing loss. Being a Deaf Black man informs his research into how intersectional trauma and healing happens both within the body and community.

Image description: Marquise (he/him) is a young Black man with long shoulder length locs tied back. He is wearing glasses, a black shirt with an owl print and tan sweatpants. He is smiling at the camera.