Curtis Robbins
		Judgment*
		Still You keep Your distance from us           who live in the profanation           of every moment.           The flash of eternity           in our nostrils           assures our ruin.           I pray from a tongue-tied page,           my woebegone God.                         "Prayer,"  Jacob Glatstein It was once said that            God has chosen            thirty-six            anonymous            Just Men              every generation                          to witness                                            every wrong done                                            and                             without much ado,                                  serve the inauspicious ones.    These saints –          empowered               piously to unobtrusively                  impose their humility even                       upon my disused tallit?      I've been deprived of my Jewish identity –               denied because of my deafness.     Heresh, shoteh, v'katan?      If I am to be judged by this –              what ignobility is just enough? Vidduy (Confession) Do not be deaf to our pleas… You are my God, and my Redeemer.                        Gates of Repentence         I've nothing to confess –                                      nothing beyond                                                  the foibles of living –                                      regressing                         ingrained anger.            I cried for my God –                         my God, have I cried!            Every day is my Yom Kippur –                        never to hear Shofarot.                                                 How could I beg to forgive                                                                       nor will I ever!               The morosity of my                                               painful innocence                                                    wrings                                               from the ignorance                                                  of the rabbis.                      Heresh, shoteh, v'katan!                                 My God, what have You done? *These two poems are from a series "Heresh" poems which show how wrong rabbinic theology has been about deaf people – even to this day.  The Mishnaic constraints have reflected how the rabbis refused to recognize deaf people as responsible human beings.  One of the greatest vagaries of Judaism – Old Testament notwithstanding – is that these rabbis were the earliest people to recognize the deaf (that is, long, long, long, long before the 15th and 16th century monks who came up with the idea of educating the deaf) – but with a thumbs down mentality (or attitude – whichever you prefer).   Most of those rabbis were trained or should I say – indoctrinated with Aristotle's philosophy that deaf people who cannot hear – cannot learn!  As ironic as it is, that very attitude of Israel toward the deaf is to educate them but not to be contributing citizens but recipients of welfare and charities.  Hence, "heresh (deaf), shoteh (imbecile), v'katan (and infantile): deaf people are not of sound mind.  With my heresh poems, I beg to differ.  I'm an angry deaf Jew who is extremely well educated, and I want to be recognized as such – not pitied or pushed aside!   More importantly, halakha has yet to change enough to show how much has been done to improve the lives – and minds – of deaf Jews.   Still most importantly, much of our own American havurah puts the dollar before the need: if it costs too much money cut corners or do nothing because there's no money.   Which brings to point, why didn't these ancient rabbis who recognized the deaf, seek ways to educate them?  That, my friend, was a missed mitzvah!  The 314th one.
		Curtis Robbins was born in New York City and is a graduate of Gallaudet University where he taught for 10 years.  He received his doctorate from the University of Maryland, and has taught American Sign Language (ASL) and deaf culture in several universities and adult education centers for almost 40 years prior to his retirement in 2007.  Robbins has published several of his poems in The Tactile Mind (formerly a publication focused on Deaf authors). His works are also found in two anthologies of works by Deaf writers and poets: No Walls of Stone (1982) and The Deaf Way II Anthology (2002).   His poem, “In Der Nacht”, is found in two anthologies on the Holocaust: Beyond Lament (1998) and Blood to Remember (Fall 2007).
		© Curtis Robbins All Rights Reserved