In high school, a student named Jason (for the sake of the story) was almost entirely deaf. He was a transfer student who joined during my senior year after COVID-19 was deemed over. We had a couple of classes together and the same lunch period so that I could talk to him weekly. And by "talk," I don't mean vocally. Jason was born partially deaf, and it progressed over the years, so he was never able to learn how to talk fully. But because I didn't know ASL, we would write in a notebook or text each other. Jason can lip-read very well, telling everyone that so they don't have to worry about writing everything down. But because we had a mask mandate for a while, he found it very difficult.
When Jason first started going to my school, the teachers immediately took action to ensure he had all the supplies he needed to learn without any issues. They installed microphones on the teachers' shirts that translated what they said onto his laptops and phones. They also had a teacher assistant who knew sign language and helped him in some classes. The worst part was that some teachers and students didn't know the severity of his hearing loss, so they just yelled at him or completely ignored his requests. But that was put to an immediate end when the superintendent entered the school to deal with the matter. Jason told me that some other schools had not been as accommodating to his condition. He had difficulty making friends, completing assignments, and even finding a job. Growing up, the schools would put Jason into a disabilities classroom, but it was only meant for students with Down syndrome or significant mobility disabilities. He could learn, read, and write just fine; he could not hear.
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