A deaf mother, a hearing son, and the silence that shaped a Houston performer
William Martinez stages an autobiographical one-man show at Stages theater, using ASL and song to recount a childhood of isolation.
By Harper Collins ·

William Martinez learned to speak in American Sign Language before he ever spoke a word aloud. His mother was deaf, and after his parents divorced when he was a toddler, silence became the default language of his home. Now, on stage at Stages theater in Houston, Martinez breaks that silence in a new show called SIGNing the Song. The performance runs through November 9 and combines speech, song, and sign language to tell his life story.
Martinez says his early years were defined by financial insecurity and a world that felt quiet. He and his mother attended Deaf Club events together, and ASL remained their primary mode of communication. Despite being able to hear, Martinez struggled socially and academically because of the barrier between his home life and the hearing world of school. He describes a developmental gap that left him isolated from his peers.
The show includes moments of direct audience engagement. Martinez signs key words for the crowd, teaching them terms like “love,” “teach,” and “stop complaining.” The audience responds with high energy, a notable feat for a nearly two-hour performance that does not include an intermission. Martinez notes that many people dislike participation, but the crowd at Stages was highly engaged throughout the run.
Credit in the narrative goes largely to educators who saw potential in a quiet, anxious child. Martinez speaks about a choir teacher and a school secretary who made him feel “seen” and “unconditionally loved.” He states that these role models helped him feel important during a time when he felt invisible. The show draws a parallel to the 2021 Academy Award winner CODA, a film Martinez admires for its depiction of families navigating the divide between hearing and deaf worlds.
Martinez argues that learning ASL should be required in schools. He laments that his mother passed away before she could see a film that dramatized the experience of growing up with a deaf parent. The performance highlights how the lack of traditional media like television or radio in his home made it harder for him to connect with classmates. His entire experiential background was different from the other children in his public education environment.
The story takes a darker turn when Martinez recounts planning extreme self-harm. He did not follow through because of an encouraging voicemail from the school secretary. This near-miss serves as a pivot point in the show, moving from tension toward relief. Martinez describes this moment as the time when “the fog lifted,” leading to a long career in performance. He attributes his survival and subsequent success to the specific encouragement of these school staff members.
Physical comedy and musical numbers drive much of the show’s energy. Martinez sings and dances with impressive physicality, drawing laughs with self-deprecating jabs at his younger self, whom he calls a “mouth-breather.” The humor is mixed with painful memories of social anxiety. He performs covers of B.J. Thomas’s “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” and “Oh What a Beautiful Morning,” using sign language to add a deeper layer to the musical moments.
Martinez’s father, who attended the performance, received credit in the show for driving long distances so Martinez could stay at school for the choir program. The choir teacher, however, did not recognize Martinez when he honored her at a teaching conference in Florida. The show includes a screening of that conference, where Martinez sang an original song for her. He says she “let me be me,” a phrase that anchors his gratitude toward the educators who shaped his path.
Martinez and his mother moved approximately 20 times during his elementary school years. They often did not have a traditional home, and at times lived in a storage unit. These disruptions contributed to a lack of social skills and left lasting marks on his development. The show frames his life as a journey from a desire to be “noticed and heard” to a state of acceptance and gratitude.
Performances are scheduled at 7 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday and at 2 p.m. on Saturday and Sunday. The venue is Stages, located at 800 Rosine. Tickets range from $25 to $76. Interested parties can call 713-527-0123 or visit stageshouston.com for more information.






