The Onion Project: A Prologue

Prologue: Why an Onion?

Why an onion? Because an onion holds its truth in layers. At first glance, it seems ordinary: smooth, pale, and wrapped in papery skin. You can hold it in your hand and think you already know it. But once you begin to peel it back, something happens. The air sharpens. The scent grows stronger. One layer gives way to another, each thin but distinct, each essential to the whole. The deeper you go, the more your eyes water, and you realize that understanding has a cost, it asks for your attention, your patience, sometimes even your tears. You cannot know an onion by its surface alone.

Deaf culture is like this. To many, it appears simple from the outside: a person signing, a person with an interpreter, a person “different” in ways they can’t quite name. Hearing people often stop there, content with what they see at first glance. But those who pause long enough to look closer discover an entire world beneath the surface. Within those layers lie stories of resistance and pride, moments of beauty and frustration, humor that thrives in silence, and languages that live in movement and space rather than sound. Each layer reveals another dimension of what it means to be Deaf and together, they create something whole and deeply human.

Like the onion, Deaf culture cannot be reduced to one definition, one stereotype, or one experience. There is no single “core” that tells the entire story. The richness comes from the layering itself from history intertwined with language, from shared struggle alongside creativity, from the tension between visibility and invisibility. The deeper we look, the more we understand that Deaf identity is not about limitation but about depth, connection, and transformation.

And, like the onion, Deafness nourishes. It feeds our sense of belonging. It flavors our lives in ways that last long after an encounter or a lesson ends. When you cook an onion, it changes form, it softens, sweetens, becomes part of the dish but it never disappears. You may not always see it, yet its presence defines the flavor. Deaf identity works the same way. It grounds us. It sustains and enriches every community that embraces it. It may shift through generations, adapt to new technologies, or blend with different cultural ingredients, but its essence endures.

Still, peeling back those layers is not always easy. Sometimes what we find beneath the surface stings. There are stories of exclusion, of being misunderstood, of having to fight for language, access, and respect. There are also moments of breathtaking beauty, laughter shared through hands, the elegance of a story told in motion, the power of a community that sees with its eyes and feels with its hearts. These contrasting textures, pain and pride, isolation and belonging make the onion’s metaphor complete. To understand Deaf culture fully, we must be willing to hold both at once.

Over the next ten weeks, we will peel this onion together. We’ll start with the thin, fragile skin, the surface of what the hearing world often sees: interpreters, captions, hand movements. Then we’ll go deeper, into the layers of Deaf history and language, uncovering the cultural roots that give ASL its rhythm and shape. We’ll explore the layers of creativity, art, humor, and storytelling that keep Deaf culture alive and evolving. We’ll face the tougher layers too, the ones that bring tears like discrimination, misunderstanding, and the ongoing struggle for accessibility and respect.

As we move inward, step by step, we’ll find that each layer connects to the next. History influences identity. Language shapes thought. Community fuels resilience. Nothing exists in isolation. Together, these layers form the structure of what it means to live and thrive as part of the Deaf world.

And when we finally reach the center, not to strip the onion bare, but to understand its heart, we may realize that Deafness is not a condition to be explained away but a culture to be embraced. The goal is not to “get through” the layers, but to appreciate how each one adds flavor, texture, and life.

This onion is our map. It reminds us to look beyond the surface, to stay curious even when things make us cry a little, and to value every layer for what it reveals. By the end of this journey, may we all see more clearly, listen more deeply, and understand that within each layer lies not just Deaf experience, but the shared humanity that connects us all.

~ A. Bret Cummens, M.Ed.