Learning to Listen in Silence
Every Tuesday night, I attend a sign language class.
At first, it felt awkward. We’re required to turn on our cameras and mute our audio. We’re communicating entirely through signs, even though we barely understand them yet. I thought it would be difficult, maybe even exhausting. Learning without sound felt intimidating.
But it wasn’t.
In the quiet, I found something unexpected: connection. Even without words, so much was still being shared.
I realized my reason for joining this class ran deeper than curiosity. For most of my life, I was never truly exposed to inclusive environments. I could empathize, but I didn’t know how to engage. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing, of misunderstanding, of unintentionally hurting someone. So I stayed silent.
One night, I watched a Deaf friend laugh freely while signing with a hearing friend. It looked joyful, natural, alive. And I thought, I want to understand too.
So now I’m learning, slowly. Unlearning, learning, relearning. Making mistakes. Trying again.
Silence, I’ve learned, isn’t empty. Sometimes, it’s where the deepest understanding begins.















