Finding Connection: Volunteering at a School for Deaf-HoH Students in Armenia

This story began two years ago.

My family and I were attending a TEDx conference in Yerevan at the American University of Armenia. One of the performances that day was a choir made up of students from a local school for children who are deaf or hard of hearing.

Armenia Deaf HoH School Choir performing at TedX 2024. — Yerevan, Armenia’s Deaf / HoH School Choir performing at TedX Conference at American University, Armenia (AUA) 2024.

We were immediately curious.

After their performance, we were able to go backstage to meet the students and their teachers. Since I am hard of hearing myself, I felt an instant connection. We exchanged a bit of sign language, and even with limited communication, their energy came through clearly—they were bright, open, and eager to connect.

I had always known there was a deaf school in Yerevan, but it felt like a stroke of luck to meet the students face-to-face. That brief interaction stayed with me.

I left that day thinking: I want to find a way to be involved.

Following Through

Over the next year and a half, we crossed paths with the group again at a book signing. That small re-connection nudged me further.

Eventually, I decided to follow up and ask if I could volunteer at the school.

I met with the principal and the applied arts teacher, and we agreed that I could support their art classes—specifically in an area we shared: carpet and rug weaving.

I began volunteering in January and continued for four months, wrapping up in April 2026.

Finding My Place

I didn’t go in with a clear plan.

The school already had a teacher, and I wasn’t fluent in Armenian Sign Language (which is quite different from American Sign Language). So I showed up with a simple goal: be useful.

I quickly connected with Diana, the art teacher. I began helping with digital design work—creating carpet and rug patterns that the students would later weave. I also pitched in wherever needed: repairing looms, fixing broken warps, sharing techniques with the teacher, and supporting the class in practical ways.

This Frame loom got an upgrade and repair.

And, of course, I got to know the students.

The Students

From day one, the students were incredibly open and welcoming.

What struck me most was how naturally they connected. They would come up to me to compliment my shoes or clothing, or simply start a conversation in sign language. There was no hesitation and no sense of distance.

I was, in many ways, an outsider—not Armenian, not fluent in their language, and quite a bit older—but that didn’t seem to matter to them.

They didn’t treat it as a barrier. And because they didn’t, neither did I.

What I Gained

I went in thinking I would contribute—and I did, in both practical and subtle ways—but I ended up gaining far more.

Working with Diana pushed me creatively. Designing for real weaving projects forced me to improve and stretch my skills in new ways. I even collaborated with my son on a lettering design for one of their rugs.

Design idea from the Deaf/HoH School in Armenia.

I also gained hands-on experience solving technical weaving problems and picked up Armenian vocabulary specific to carpet making—something that later helped me when I was teaching at the Hadrut Art Center that same semester.

One intangible gift I didn’t expect was the opportunity to observe Diana’s approach to teaching. She often organized group projects rather than having each student work individually. Watching how she guided collaboration, kept students engaged, and balanced structure with creativity gave me practical ideas I can now carry into my own teaching.

That alone was an unexpected gift.

But beyond skills, the experience gave me something more personal.

It pushed me to step forward—to teach more, to share more, and to recognize that I had something meaningful to offer.

Leaving

When April came and my time there wrapped up, it was quietly emotional.

I may not have played a major role there, but the experience mattered deeply to me.

Armenia Deaf HoH School Yerevan, with principal an teacher.

The principal and Diana took time to thank me and told me I would always be welcome back. One moment stayed with me in particular. Armine said, “We will be waiting for you. The school will be waiting for you.”

That meant more than I expected.

As I was walking down the hall on my final day, a student I had only briefly met months earlier—someone from the choir—recognized me. Instead of simply passing by, she stopped, smiled, waved, and said hello.

It was a small gesture.

But somehow, it felt like the perfect ending.