Lori Ordover: Silence Is

Unlike most chaotic and cacophonous childhoods, mine was spent in silence. Growing up with a deaf mother, I spent most of my youth not being heard. My project, Silence Is evokes my experience of her through self-portraits, family photographs and empty spaces.

My mother, now 90, reads lips and is quite good at it.  At a young age she was taught to speak. She spoke with an accent, but most people didn’t realize she was deaf. She is laser focused on your mouth when in conversation. 

A clue to her deafness would come when she would say an incorrect response during a conversation.  Most people would assume that they did not understand, not that my mother did not hear what they were saying.  Rarely would she ask someone to repeat themselves, fearing they may guess she is deaf. 

I was not allowed to correct her misunderstandings publicly.

When she turns from you, you are gone, completely.  When having an argument, she will say her piece, then turn away, giving you no chance to respond.  

At times like this as a child, I felt powerless, invisible, and angry. At an early age I gave up trying to be heard, which left me spending a lot of time alone in my thoughts.