Deaf Identity: CODA and me. | Lauren Middleton
- Lauren Middleton
- Jan 29, 2024
- 8 min read
Now, I’m not one to sit completely entranced by a film (often I’m scrolling through my phone and the film is background noise) but when the Apple-TV movie, CODA was recommended to me, it was something that caught my attention in the way films rarely do. So, what did I do? I sought an account, put down my phone, and pressed play.
The film stars Emilia Jones as Ruby Rossi -- a teenager on the cusp of adulthood and independence, navigating high school whilst deciding what her future will hold once she graduates. It sounds very familiar. She lives with her mother, Jackie (Marlee Matlin), her father, Frank (Troy Kotsur) and brother, Leo (Daniel Durant). Together, they run a family fishing business. Besides waking up at a ridiculous hour of the morning to go fishing before school, we see Ruby living quite a classic teenage life: she attends high school, is embarrassed by her parent’s music tastes, and is desperately trying to figure out who she is. Again, very familiar. However, what makes Ruby different to the other characters is that she’s a CODA – a Child of Deaf Adults. Ruby being the only hearing member of her family is what this film centres around, with several subplots being interwoven within this.
I wanted to focus on Ruby’s character more than the plot (and subplots) in this piece because she really intrigued me. Although Ruby’s situation couldn’t be further from mine, I found myself relating to her and easily understanding her rather complex character. I’m not a CODA and I don’t know what it’s like to grow up in the deaf community whilst also being hearing. What I do know though, is what it is like to grow up with Sensorineural Hearing Loss, but to be expected to adapt to the hearing world. None of my family are deaf, none of my friends are deaf, and I don’t have deaf role-models around me. This is partly because my hearing impairment was only diagnosed in 2022 (yet I have had it my entire life.) Now it’s been diagnosed, alongside enjoying my new hearing clarity (and being very grateful for it), I’ve also struggled to process the whole situation and to understand my own deaf identity: where exactly do I fit?
I think Ruby’s character appealed to me, therefore, because I think she often feels quite lonely and doesn’t always know where she fits in -- at least that is seemingly true for the first little while of the film. She’s portrayed as the ‘outsider’ in school and only really has two people she talks to. It these two characters from her school community who end up visiting her house and see Ruby as a CODA, whereas everyone else is aware of Ruby’s personal life but never see that part of her identity. Ruby, in fact, rarely overlaps her deaf identity and hearing identity unless she has to in professional situations. An example of this being when she has to be an interpreter for her parents at their doctor’s appointment. Ruby, herself, associates American Sign Language (ASL) with duty: she has grown up having to take charge of appointments and advocacy for her family, and has been relied upon more as she got older. This is a central key plot point to the film.
In turn, this reliance led to resentment in some regard from Ruby. She resents how she has to sacrifice her own wants and needs for the family (as much as she is also happy to help). She has dreams of going to Berklee to pursue a music career and yet nearly gives this up to help out with her family’s fishing business, knowing they couldn’t afford to hire an interpreter. The pressures she was put under -- balancing her wants and the needs of those she loves -- became hard to manage, resulting in her sacrificing her own plans. We see Ruby repeatedly be late to her private singing lessons, and only just making it to her audition with the help of her family. Additionally, Ruby, at one point, questioned whether her mother had wished Ruby was born deaf too. Whilst this scene explores her mum’s fears of raising a hearing child, I can’t help but see how Ruby believes that if she were deaf as well, she would definitely fit into the deaf community: she’d have an identity that didn’t differ to her family. She wouldn’t teeter on the edge of two communities.
Something that helps her deal with the additional pressures is music. It’s the stability amongst the uncertainty for her. No matter what she thought about herself, the one thing that was constant was that she could sing. At the start of the film, Ruby’s self-esteem, when it comes to singing, is low -- a stark contrast to the confident girl we see angrily signing at her parents about their music volume in the car, or standing up to the council for her father at a board meeting. During her first music class of the semester, she runs out of the classroom, unable to sing a line of Happy Birthday as a solo. And yet, in the next scene, we see that she is more than capable of exceeding this task when alone. It’s clear there’s a social barrier blocking her: she’s scared to be seen and scared to be judged. She’s aware people know her family circumstance differs to that of the people she is around, and rather than embracing the difference, she hides away and keeps herself to herself. This position of vulnerability stems deeper than her music -- she doesn’t know what she’s capable of and how gifted she truly is. In relation to my own hearing, I certainly felt different to my peers when I got my diagnosis. No-one else in my classes had hearing aids and I sometimes resented the fact that I had to have them. More than that though, I felt frustrated at my childhood: I was shy, much preferring to hide away; and at times felt like I wasn’t good enough. Things about my childhood started to make sense in one way, but became confusing in another as I pieced together the reason behind some of my experiences.
In the way Ruby sees music as beautiful (and her confidence develops upon returning to class, proving herself and earning a duet with her crush, Miles, as well as getting private tuition for a Berklee audition), she learns to see American Sign Language (ASL) as beautiful too. It’s important to note that Ruby isn’t ashamed of either part of her identities; she just is confused about where she stands and how others will perceive her, and is therefore wary about who she lets in. I understood this greatly – feeling privileged enough to be a part of both communities now, and having the option to hear the world from two different perspectives; to hear sounds for the first time that are so mundane for others but to be alone in doing so. It’s a beautifully complex process but is overwhelming. It’s clear though that Ruby finds comfort in ASL because it’s her first language and makes her feel at ease in overwhelming situations. When asked by her teacher how she feels when she sings, she signs her response – this being the most moving and honest answer she could give as she struggled to verbalise what she felt. I think that, as a teenager, she is desperately searching for a way to express herself. And yet, what she does not realise is that her ability to sign and to sing is exactly what she is looking for. What was something seemingly isolating for her, is actually something that’s incredibly powerful and connects her to people – including those within the hearing community. In the same way her teacher understood what she signed, even though he doesn’t know ASL, I was fortunate enough to have good people around me who educated themselves and took the time to understand my situation as best they could, so it didn’t feel as lonely.
Arguably, the most powerful scene in the movie is when Ruby realises how wonderful it is to bridge the gap between the deaf and hearing communities through music. She sings a rendition of Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now – quite literally bringing both sides of her identity together -- for her Berklee audition. She begins to sing, lacking confidence and is stopped by her music teacher who accidently presses the wrong key on the piano. When she starts again, she notices her family sitting in the audience and her concentration moves away from the judges in front of her, and instead, onto them. She gathers confidence throughout the song, beginning to sign the lyrics as she sings so that her family can understand the words. Her rendition granted her a place at the school, but more than that, she sees, for the first time in a long time, how beautiful ASL is: how necessary and comforting it is to be able to communicate with the people around you, so they too, are included.
The film ends with Ruby moving away, meaning her family has to adapt how they approach their business and social lives. Where Ruby was once relied upon to communicate with the other fishermen, they now have started to learn signs to communicate with the Rossi’s. Likewise, the Rossi’s have found an increased confidence in not leaning on Ruby but advocating for themselves and showing that the deaf community is something to be proud of. They succeed in running their business and it thrives. The hearing and deaf communities come together to show respect, understanding, and acceptance with all round better accessibility (which allows everyone to thrive.)
The acknowledgement of bridging the gap between the non-hearing and hearing, and the importance of advocacy and sign-language to make the world more accessible is beautiful to see in such a film. I think this is why I have taken such a liking to movies or literature about deaf identities. On one hand, it helps me to see a bigger picture that is beyond my experience, and on the other, it helps me to learn more about my identity and understand the beauty of my situation; to find a connection to the deaf community.
Overall, I think CODA does an excellent job as a movie: a coming-of-age tale with plenty of comedic scenes as there are thought-provoking. But more than that, it depicts how successful non-hearing people can be even in a world arguably catered to the hearing. Deaf culture is embraced – making sure the principles and needs of those within the community aren’t diminished, but respected and acknowledged by those around them. I know that CODA, whilst highlighting the challenges Children of Deaf Adults face, also provides space to reflect upon how the deaf community is treated and how, with a bit more accessibility, everyone can live the life they want to pursue. There is something very special about that. And on a personal level, it told me that no matter how my hearing situation develops, it’s okay for me to explore my deaf identity whilst being present in the ‘hearing world’ too. It told me that I am allowed to advocate for myself and stand up for what I need, and most importantly, it told me that I can do what I set out to; that difference is a good thing to embrace.

Lauren (she/her) is a deaf Creative Writing PhD student, based in Wales. She is interested in literature (fiction and non-fiction) that explores mental health and her own poetry often centers around this; examining psychological and wider societal impacts mental health conditions can have. In her spare time, she enjoys playing the guitar, singing, and finishing the paint-by-numbers she started several years ago but forgot about!
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