Joshua Hurt has been fitted for a tuxedo that his date will never see.
He’s not sure if he chose the cummerbund or the vest, though the visually impaired 18-year-old has been told that a vest was the way to go.
“I hope I picked the right one,” Joshua says. “That’d be embarrassing.”
Nicole Cordova has picked the choicest, most teeth-rattling hip-hop music she could find, though her friends will never hear it.
“I will,” the 17-year-old high school junior says with her hands. “I’m going to wear my hearing aids.”
Tonight is prom at the Colorado School for the Deaf and the Blind. The girls are buzzing about their gowns. The boys are discussing who bought the most expensive corsage.
“It’s going to be beautiful,” says Jeremy Levy, a 17-year-old from Parker who attends the Colorado Springs school and is completely blind.
For the first time ever, or at least that anyone can remember, deaf and blind students at the school organized the prom together. The decision was a departure from past proms when deaf and other hearing-impaired students teamed up with teachers to plan the event.
Blind students merely showed up.
“We’re learning every day how to communicate when someone can’t see or hear you,” prom committee president Catherine Worrall, 17, says through a translator. “Not that it’s been easy.”
Such as the time in February when a majority in the prom group chose picture frames for prom party favors.
Joshua and Jeremy, two members of the committee and the only visually impaired students at that meeting, voted against the frames.
After the vote, Joshua raised his hand, and his words were translated into sign language.
“Um, guys, you know that some of the kids can’t see the picture in the frame, right?” the teenager from Grand Junction told the group.
A look of surprise washed over the faces of the deaf students. They nodded in recognition.
Revote. The glass mugs won.
“Maybe we can have the mugs etched so the blind can feel the bumps,” one student signed. More nods.
“Yes!” Jeremy told the group as a translator, one of his teachers, flashed a wide grin. “Thank you so much.”
Photos for the parents
Proms at this school are in a constant state of flux.
Should the prom king and queen be deaf or blind? Should they be mixed?
How loud should the music be so deaf students can feel the vibrations and dance to the beat?
Should the lighting be bright or dimmed?
If the lights are too bright, it’s not romantic, deaf students argue. If it’s too low, visually impaired teenagers say they become completely blind and are afraid to move.
“Last year, the blind kids started running into each other on the dance floor,” signs 18-year-old senior Tye Lovato. “It was obvious that it wouldn’t work out the way we had it.”
Tonight at the Patty Jewett Golf Course clubhouse, two rooms will accommodate roughly 100 students. One will have low lights and loud music; the other will have brighter lights and lower music.
Before the dance begins, Rae Cunningham – a school Braillist who helped coordinate this year’s prom – will take blind students through the clubhouse, pacing off steps to the bathrooms, helping the teens find hors d’oeuvres.
And, if she finds the right time to ask, she’ll suggest that students get their pictures taken.
“Even if they can’t see it, this is still a memory,” Cunningham says. “It’ll
make their moms and dads smile.”
She spent an entire night printing Braille labels to affix to glass mugs already etched with “CSDB – A Night Under the Stars, 2005.”
The payoff, Cunningham says, comes when the teenagers walk onto the dance floor.
“When you see those kids out there, you can’t explain the feeling … ” Cunningham says. “It almost brings you to tears. Right then, you know it was worth it.”
Will she or won’t she?
But Jeremy isn’t sure if he’s going. At the last minute, he admits he doesn’t have a tuxedo. He will help set up the clubhouse on prom night, he says, but that’s it.
“I’m afraid the music is going to be too loud,” Jeremy says. “It’s a little bit intimidating.”
Nicole, a Fort Collins native who helped plan the prom with Jeremy, learns of his decision.
With a translator at her side, she pries into Jeremy’s life and pulls out his uneasiness.
“Is there a girl you like?” Nicole says with her hands, waiting for the translator to reply with Jeremy’s answer.
“There’s this girl,” he says. “I’m embarrassed to ask her. I’m not sure if she’ll say yes.”
“You can ask her as a friend,” Nicole signs.
“You can do that?” Jeremy asks. “Well, maybe. Maybe if I ask her that way, she’ll say yes? Do you think? Should I ask?”
Nicole sees the excitement on his face and smiles.
Jeremy, turned in Nicole’s direction, laughs. And he smiles back.
Staff writer Robert Sanchez can be reached at 303-820-1282 or rsanchez@denverpost.com.
