They call me Deaf Daisy.
As one learns in elementary school English language arts classes, alliteration is a powerful literary technique that aids in memorization.
While not extremely clever, I never expected the nickname brought upon me by a group of seven-year-olds to be a product of a lengthier thought process than is to be expected from a seven year old.
They thought I didn't know what they called me. What Deaf Daisy can't hear won't hurt her. But I knew.
It started to hurt less and less as the years passed. What began as playground teasing among children turned into nothing more than a monicker with which to write me off by.
"Who's she?"
"Oh, that's just Deaf Daisy."
As if, because I cannot hear, I am defined ultimately by the fact that I cannot hear. They cannot communicate with me, so they have no reason to try to learn any other, perhaps more clever, descriptor of Daisy.
I'm just Deaf Daisy.
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Deaf Daisy | #1 in #americansignlanguage
Teen Fiction17-year-old Daisy Miller is perfectly fine. Really, she's fine. Until Cannon Kane, the boy who gave her the nickname Deaf Daisy in the second grade, suddenly stops talking, and he is transferred into her classes in hopes he will learn ASL and begin...
