"I can not remember even thinking that I was deaf when I was dancing"
About this Quote
Dancing, for Stephanie Beacham, isn’t escapism so much as a jailbreak: a moment when the body overrides the category the world keeps trying to file you under. The line is deceptively plain, almost offhand, and that’s the point. It refuses the inspirational-poster tone people often impose on disability stories. Instead of “I overcame,” it offers something subtler and more radical: I forgot the script you wrote for me.
Beacham’s intent lands in the space between identity and sensation. Deafness is not denied or minimized; it’s simply not the dominant frame in that particular room, under that particular beat. When she says she “cannot remember even thinking” about being deaf, she’s describing how attention works. Dance reorganizes perception around rhythm, vibration, and muscle memory. It’s an art form that doesn’t ask for perfect access to sound; it rewards timing, presence, and physical intelligence. In that sense, dance becomes a technology of belonging.
The subtext is a critique of how often deafness is treated as the headline of a person rather than one detail in a life. Beacham’s phrasing pushes back against the gaze that constantly checks, measures, and comments. On a dance floor, surveillance loosens. Nobody is testing comprehension; they’re watching energy.
Context matters: Beacham has spoken publicly about hearing loss and hearing aids in an industry obsessed with seamless performance. This line recasts “performance” as liberation, not concealment. It’s not about passing as hearing. It’s about finding a space where the question stops being “What can’t you do?” and becomes “Are you moving?”
Beacham’s intent lands in the space between identity and sensation. Deafness is not denied or minimized; it’s simply not the dominant frame in that particular room, under that particular beat. When she says she “cannot remember even thinking” about being deaf, she’s describing how attention works. Dance reorganizes perception around rhythm, vibration, and muscle memory. It’s an art form that doesn’t ask for perfect access to sound; it rewards timing, presence, and physical intelligence. In that sense, dance becomes a technology of belonging.
The subtext is a critique of how often deafness is treated as the headline of a person rather than one detail in a life. Beacham’s phrasing pushes back against the gaze that constantly checks, measures, and comments. On a dance floor, surveillance loosens. Nobody is testing comprehension; they’re watching energy.
Context matters: Beacham has spoken publicly about hearing loss and hearing aids in an industry obsessed with seamless performance. This line recasts “performance” as liberation, not concealment. It’s not about passing as hearing. It’s about finding a space where the question stops being “What can’t you do?” and becomes “Are you moving?”
Quote Details
| Topic | Live in the Moment |
|---|
More Quotes by Stephanie
Add to List


