"When I was three years old I was sent to a school for the deaf in Manchester. The first thing I noticed was children waving their hands about at each other. I went into the hall with the other children, looked around and suddenly noticed that my parents were not there anymore. A strange lady took me away and I suddenly thought that my mam and dad had thrown me away and that I would be staying in the strange place with these strange people forever.

For six weeks I stayed in this school, not expecting to see my parents again. Suddenly, there they were - here to take me home for the holidays. I had seen other children leaving on a Friday and coming back on a Monday, but did not understand that, because my family lived so far away, I had to wait until the holidays.

Every Friday I would receive a package from my family and when I was eight years old I took notice of the address. For the first time, there it was: 'Master Lyndon Williams, Royal School for the Deaf'. This was a new word to me, 'Deaf'. What did it mean, and why was I in a royal school for it?

This started me thinking. When I next went home for the holidays I noticed my mum would talk to me and, as usual, I would try to read what she said. Why, when I was at home, didn't I have to use earphones like I did in school? When I did use them in school, what were all the numbers that would flash on the monitor? Why did I ask my mother if I couldn't hear? What did that mean, "hear"? And why did she point at her ear when she said it?

When I got back to school I asked one of the older boys why I was there and what my mother was talking about. He wrote on a piece of paper 'DEAF' then proceeded to tell me that some people heard noises and speech through their ears, and people who couldn't like me were deaf. At that minute, I realised I was different in a place full of different people and I was devastated.