Comeback:: Part 2

Dear friends,

If you have not read "Comeback:: Part 1" Please do so before proceeding here. I think if you can spare the time to read this article, you will get to a side of me, which I have not really shared with a lot of people, so you guys are a privileged few! Thanks a million!

I was born deaf, and although it is not 100%, it is still in the higher ranges of 70-80% loss. My left hearing is worse than my right one. Ever since first grade, I have been wearing aids, and at the time, they were the huge ones, which were visibly noticeable. Over the years, I have had about 6-7 different pairs of aids, and the ones I am wearing today are the smallest ones that are available out there.

Being a person who hears hard, I was always the quiet and shy type of person. It was mainly because I was not able to follow conversations in any situation. Sometimes there would be too much noise and I would not pick up the human voice. Sometimes it would not be bright enough for me to lip read. Once I was out of the loop, I could not keep track of what the people are talking about, hence I would stay quiet lest I say something completely off track. Being in school, some of the kids would tease me about my aids and made me feel like an outsider. That’s not to say that I did not have any friends at all; I did have certain. But the ones who would tease me were higher in numbers than the ones who wouldn’t.

My father would give me these small talks on how I should be more assertive and all, and I would think,” its so easy for you to say, but once you are in my shoes, in that classroom, its not so easy to say something and face ridicule from the peers later on.” I have been called names, been made fun of and at times been plainly ignored. I was always the last one picked for a team in my sports lesson. I was always the last one to be picked out for any of the group activity. I don’t blame them thought. They probably would have thought: what’s a deaf guy going to do for us anyways? I have never shared any of this with my parents, because I did not want them to realize that I was going through crap at school.

This kind of attitude from others lasted through high school, all the way through 12th grade. Only five people were cool friends with me, while the others would think of me as weird and outsiders, and I would let their attitude affect me. Maybe I am weird after all! Maybe I do deserve to be a loser! This kind of thinking would destroy me on the inside, but on the outside, I would pretend its not hurting me. I would come home at times and cry my heart out, why do other people think I am weird? I am not weird; I am as normal as the person next to me!

I had always dreamed of getting into a profession where I would not have to be in the public eye, and be in the background. Ironically, I got into architecture, where I AM in the public eye, making presentations to the clients and all. Through my university years, I once again had to go through a time where the professors and other professionals would come in and critique my work in public presentations. Many times, I would let their comments and critiques affect me as well, because my work reflected me, and a comment on my work was a comment on me!

One time I had this professor from Afghanistan, and from day one, he would call me names and use these weird examples to point out to the rest of the class what a “pathetic, unworthy” student I was. The whole semester he put me down in some of the worse ways possible. My complaints to the dean fell on deaf ears so to speak. Other students would ask why this professor was so against me, while he was being chummy with the female students. I was always on time, always gave great presentations, spoke in impeccable English, would sensibly answer the critiques, and always had the requirements on time. Other students loved me, but this professor would hate me. He would try to find the littlest of fault in my work and tear me up about it. I know this is true because I had worked the whole night on designing an auditorium, getting the right alignments of the chairs, stage, lighting equipments and all. I presented my work, and he was disgusted with it. When another person, who had stolen my design for the auditorium, presented the work, the professor was all excited about it. I told my friend why he took my drawing, and he came up with the lame excuse: I did not have time to work on my own thing!

However, the attitude of that professor proved to me that he had something against me as a person! Ironically, the following semester, this same professor called me in to his office, and gave me a big apology for his behavior, and all I could tell him was: “you broke me a like a glass calling me names and all; you have no idea how much you hurt me. But I will forgive you!” I never saw him again, and he was fired at the end of the semester.

I am all up for criticisms and all, since that is part of my job. I have to listen to the clients and understand what their concerns are. But that kind of criticism is different from the one that is targeting at someone personally. Questioning one’s behavior without full knowledge of who they really are is premature and immature. All you people who read this, I never intend to criticize you as a person, because I don’t know you very well. If I comment on anything, it is the ideas, the articles and the subject matter. So when I write about Saudi Arabia for example, I don’t write it with a heart of hatred, I write it out of love. I hate to see the wrong things happening and I get upset when stupid things happen in the country.

Since I am coming back with a refreshed mind, a renewal of mind and thinking, I will continue to blog like the way I do. I will still welcome comments of all kinds, even if they are personal, rude, offensive and mean comments, because that will give me an opportunity to correct and explain myself to them! I will still reply to your comments. I will still visit other blogs and leave comments for you all! Gosh, how could I have ever thought of even leaving this place first?

I ended it on Tuesday and today is Friday. I was dead for three days but now am resurrected! Blogging has become a part of me; its in my bloodline; its, after all, a Life of Mansur!

With love,

Mansur