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I<\/span>\u2019ve spent my life determined to be one of a kind \u2013 perhaps because I\u2019m a twin. During our birth, my younger-by-two-minutes brother\u2019s umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. It cut off my air supply, which left me deaf, while his hearing was unimpaired. That\u2019s sibling rivalry for you.<\/p>\n I use hearing aids and am a strong lip reader, as well as being fluent in British Sign Language. When I take my aids out to sleep, you could fire a gun next to my ear and I wouldn\u2019t stir. But with them in I have fairly clear access to sound.<\/p>\n I grew up in Hackney, east London, and had been fascinated by raving ever since I spied my older cousins coming home from illegal parties at six in the morning. On New Year\u2019s Eve in 1993, I\u00a0finally went to my first one. The\u00a0second I walked through that door, I was hit by the lights and smoke,\u00a0the throbbing beats, the bodies\u00a0moving joyfully as one.<\/p>\n I was hooked. I spent weekends bouncing about like a ragamuffin in airport hangars, basements and disused factories all over the country. I started learning to DJ, spending the wages I\u00a0earned from working in a warehouse on UK garage and reggae records.<\/p>\n Yet, despite being a dedicated raver for a decade, I hardly ever encountered other deaf people on those dancefloors. I think I met a grand total of two.<\/p>\n I tried to convince friends from a deaf social group to come out with me. \u201cNah, that\u2019s hearing culture,\u201d they said. \u201cIt\u2019s not for us.\u201d I could understand: I\u2019d once been turned away by a club bouncer for being deaf. But I wanted them to discover the same thrills I had. I also knew they\u2019d appreciate a late night plus chances to bond with other deaf adults were thin on the ground. So I decided to set up the world\u2019s first rave by deaf people, for deaf people.<\/p>\n We\u2019ve consulted on a\u00a0vibrating floor at a nightclub and worked with a company making vests that tremble in sync to music<\/p>\n Finding a venue was a headache. Bookers were clueless about the concept. Some thought it was a joke. Others worried we\u2019d DJ at dangerous volumes. Many deaf partygoers connect with music by feeling the bass thump through them, so we do<\/em> play tracks with meaty basslines and amp up the deep beats, but not to a level that\u2019ll get anyone a visit from the council for noise pollution, or damage any eardrums.<\/p>\n Eventually we got a yes from the International Students House in central London. The date was set for May bank holiday 2003. My whole family slapped flyers everywhere, and 700 tickets sold like wildfire. <\/em>Deaf culture is very visual; there also needed to be plenty to see, so I hired deaf dancer mates to breakdance on stage.<\/p>\n I cried that inaugural night. I was so\u00a0moved. Everyone was constantly hugging \u2013 not because of any pills, but\u00a0because of the pure joy of being immersed in deaf community. Deaf\u00a0people are usually the minority; at Deaf Rave, everyone was part of the same tribe.<\/p>\n Drum\u2019n\u2019bass beats weren\u2019t the only thing that got mixed and matched that evening \u2013 it was the start of a long legacy of Deaf Rave romances. Over the years, some ravers have got married, had babies, and settled down away from the club scene. They\u2019re missed, but it\u2019s\u00a0the sweetest goodbye.<\/p>\n skip past newsletter promotion<\/p>\n Sign up to Inside Saturday<\/span><\/p>\n The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend.<\/p>\n Privacy Notice: <\/strong>Newsletters may contain information about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. If you do not have an account, we will create a guest account for you on theguardian.com to send you this newsletter. You can complete full registration at any time. For more information about how we use your data see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.<\/span><\/p>\n after newsletter promotion<\/p>\n Deaf Rave has grown in ways that boggle my mind. I\u2019ve expanded my crew \u2013 bringing in new members like MC Geezer, a deaf rapper who signs BSL as he spits bars \u2013 and we\u2019ve played major festivals, such as Glastonbury and Boomtown. We\u2019ve consulted on a\u00a0vibrating floor installed at the nightclub Fabric, and worked with a company that makes haptic vests that tremble in sync to music. We also travelled to Shanghai to perform as part of a deaf cultural exchange. I\u2019m a quarter Chinese myself \u2013 plus Vietnamese, Guyanese and English \u2013 and am known as DJ Chinaman, so it was an especially poignant trip.<\/p>\n In 2024, I was awarded an honorary master of the arts by Falmouth University, then earlier this year, I was made an MBE. The shock knocked me sideways. It\u2019s given me the boost to keep supporting deaf identity, culture and community. We\u2019ve <\/strong>started working with children \u2013 we teach DJing workshops to deaf kids in schools, and are holding a Deaf Rave family day festival in London this weekend. Whether we\u2019re in the clubs,\u00a0or in the classrooms, the deaf must be heard.<\/p>\n <\/em>As told to Alix Fox<\/p>\n Do you have an experience to share? Email experience@theguardian.com<\/p>\n