The questions every CODA gets about their Deaf parents (and the real answers)
- Elisa Nuevo Vallín
- 3 days ago
- 4 min read
Growing up as a CODA means you develop two things very early in life: bilingual hands and the patience of a saint. If I had a pound for every question I’ve been asked about my Deaf parents, I could probably retire and move somewhere sunny with unlimited tapas.
People are curious, and curiosity is wonderful. The problem is that many of the questions make you think… really? Today?
So here it is. A new, fun, slightly cheeky article where I, a proud CODA, answer the most asked questions I get about my Deaf mum and dad.
Read it, laugh with it, learn something, and please… pass it on so no other CODA has to survive these questions alone.
Q1. How do your Deaf parents communicate?
With Sign language. Spanish Sign Language is their mother tongue and mine too.
Not “hand gestures”. Not “charades”. Not “that thing you do with your hands”.
Sign language. Beautiful, expressive, rich, and very much alive.
Some Deaf people use sign. Others use lipreading, or writing, or spoken language, or a mix of everything.
Just like hearing people, communication varies.
Q2. How do you get their attention?
You can tap a shoulder, wave, knock a table they are touching, stomp gently so the vibrations travel, or flick the lights.
But here is the golden rule: always ask what they prefer.
Some Deaf people are fine with a shoulder tap. Others will jump out of their skin and accidentally karate chop you. Everyone has their own comfort zone, so check first.
Think of it as a VIP entrance. You announce yourself, they look up, and you proceed.
And definitely we don't throw shoes across the room, despite the rumours.
Q3. How do they call emergency services?
With apps like 112 in Spain or 999 BSL or text relay in the UK.
They don't just “hope for the best”, at least, not anymore!
Technology exists, and Deaf people use it brilliantly.
Q4. How did your parents learn to read and speak?
My parents grew up in a completely hearing environment where doctors insisted everything should be oral. No sign language. No visual access. Just endless speech drills and confusion. They had no real language they could fully access, so reading and speaking were both incredibly hard.
Everything shifted when they were seven and sent to the School for the Deaf in Deusto. The school still officially taught in speech only, but the Deaf kids in the playground had other plans. That’s where my parents learnt Spanish Sign Language. Not from teachers — from Deaf children passing on their language hand to hand.
Once they finally had an accessible language, reading made sense for the first time. Visual aids helped too, but the real turning point was having a language that matched their brains.
Speaking was different. Speech therapy in those days meant intense exercises: gargling to learn the “G,” putting a pencil under the tongue to get the “R”… all the classics. They’re not mute; Deaf people can use their voices, but speaking requires training and a lot of effort, and it has never become their preferred way to communicate.
In short:
Reading came with access to a real language.
Speaking came with drills.
Signing came with freedom.
Q5. How do Deaf people talk?
With their hands, face, body, and an entire orchestra of expression.
Sign languages are visual languages.
Q6. How do Deaf people think?
In the same way hearing people do.
Some think in pictures, some in sign, some in written words.
Q7. How many Deaf people are there in the world?
Around 72 million, according to the World Federation of the Deaf.
More than 300 sign languages exist. None of them are universal.
If you learn BSL, please do not try to use it in Spain unless you want to accidentally sign something rude to my dad. Read this article about hand gestures easily mistunderstood abroad.
Q8. Can your parents sing?
Absolutely.
Does it match the melody?
Absolutely not.
Does anyone care?
Also no.
In my house, singing is enthusiasm only. Vocal talent optional.
Q9. How can I phone your Deaf parents?
Technically, you can call. Technically, they can answer. Practically, you will have a lovely one way conversation with yourself.
Use text. Use email. Use messaging. Use video relay. Use anything visual.
Communication is possible. You just need the right tool.
✨️BONUS✨️
10 things every CODA wants you to know
Every CODA becomes a part-time myth-buster. We grow up answering questions about Deaf parents, translating awkward social moments, and reminding people that Deaf people are, in fact, just… people.
So before we wrap up, here are a few things CODAs wish the world understood about our Deaf parents. Consider this your shortcut to being a better ally, friend, or colleague.
They are completely normal humans.
The only difference is they do not hear. That is it.
Whispering does not work. Shouting does not work either.
Volume is not the issue. Access is.
Communication takes teamwork.
They will always try their best to understand you, so meet them halfway. Patience is gold.
If you cover your mouth, look away, or talk while walking:
Lipreading becomes impossible. So does understanding you.
Always get their attention first.
A gentle tap, a wave, or the agreed-upon signal. Do not appear like a ninja. They will jump.
Never say “never mind.” Ever.
It is hurtful, dismissive, and excludes them from the moment entirely. No one likes being told a conversation isn’t for them.
Deaf people have incredible body language radar.
They know when you are lying, annoyed, uncomfortable, or confused. They see everything.
They are strong, smart, and hardworking.
Not because they “overcame deafness,” but because the world rarely makes things accessible.
And here is the big one:
A little awareness from you can make a massive difference to them. Truly.
These are the things CODAs grow up with, and sharing them feels like letting you peek behind the curtain of our everyday life. The more people understand, the less explaining we have to do, and the more included Deaf people feel in the world that should already include them.