In my mainstreamed early elementary years, before fourth grade, my literacy skills surpassed my oral communication skills. Communication in elementary school was limited and frustrating, which made me something of a social outcast as a deaf child.
Mainstreamed Classroom Outcast
My early mainstreamed elementary school memories are vague, but one thing stands out I was definitely NOT part of the class. I did not have interpreters. The teacher read to the class while I sat alone. Being deaf, I did not know what was going on, did not know my classmates' names, and often did not even know my teacher's name.
Sinking or Swimming in the Mainstream
Many deaf children were left to sink or swim in the mainstream. I swam, as I loved to read. After progressing through easy readers, I became afraid when I encountered the "big" words with no one to guide me. To overcome this fear, I told myself, "big words are the same as little words. They just have more letters."
Deaf, Mainstreamed, and Alone
In the mornings, we assembled in the basement. I sat alone feeling socially outcast, and wondering what was going on and why other children would not play with me. I could see my hearing sister playing with other children, while my deafness kept me from having my own playmates.
Deaf and Alone at Recess
On the playground at recess, I had no one to play with and no one played with me. One time I remember trying so hard to communicate to this little girl and I could not understand her at all. The playground aide tried to help but I was unable to understand her either. So I did not have a chance to befriend that child. Life after mainstream class wasn't any better because none of the children in our neighborhood attended my school, and even if they had, I doubt I would have been able to communicate with them any better.
Mainstream School Play
School plays for parents were another venue in which I felt left out. I wanted to have speaking roles, but was not allowed to. I remember playing a tree in one Christmas play. Standing there on the stage, covered with wires and tinsel, I remember feeling angry and wishing I could do something that would disrupt the play, like sneeze!
Deaf and Not Invited
I was not invited to my classmates' birthday parties. The parents of my sister's friends would make them invite me as a courtesy. As young as I was, I knew the real reason I was invited to those parties - "pity" invitations. Therefore, I did not enjoy myself very much at those parties. At one party, watching the other kids dancing to music (at that time, I did not know that deaf children can dance to music) I felt so left out that I started to cry. The birthday child's parent got on the phone to my mother and said - I read her lips - "Come and get your daughter. All she does is cry!" I was crying because I wanted my own friends.
"That Deaf Girl"
Years later, at 15, I was in a hearing summer camp. Another teen girl and I started talking. She remembered having attended the same Montessori school that I had! In addition, she remembered that there had been a mainstreamed deaf girl in her class. We put two and two together and realized that I had been that girl! That is how my early elementary classmates remembered me - not as Jamie, but as "that deaf girl."
No wonder I did not feel part of the mainstream class. Teachers unfamiliar with deafness, classmates I could not communicate with, inability to follow when the class did an activity as a group, and no one to play with.

