This red building at Bispegata 9b was built in 1855 to house Norway's oldest school for the deaf. Since the school was founded in 1825, teaching had taken place in borrowed premises, but with this building, the school gained a permanent base in the city. At the beginning of the 1800s, deaf children had to be sent to Copenhagen for education, which was expensive for the city's poor commission. There were discussions about starting a school for the deaf in Christiania, but Trondheim was chosen because of Andreas Christian Møller, who was the only person in Norway at the time with the education and experience to teach deaf children. He was the son of a cobbler in Trondheim and had been sent to a school for the deaf in Denmark when he was 14. The school was named Døvstummeinstitutet i Trondhjem (The Deaf-Mute Institute in Trondheim) and was the only school for the deaf in Norway until the mid-1800s. 

Children came from all over the country to attend the school in Trondheim, many as young as 8 years old. They had to travel long distances, sometimes over several days, which meant they were away from home for long periods. Some children only went home during the summer holidays. 

Many Sámi deaf children attended the school. Some of them can be found in the census records for Trondheim. For example, the image below provides information about a student who traveled all the way from Karasjok to attend the school. The excerpt is from the 1910 census, and Per was 15 years old at the time: 

In 1943, Kirsten Sara Ørsnes from Kautokeino traveled to Trondheim to attend the school. She was 10 years old at the time. She was interviewed by her daughter in 2009, and in the interview, she talks about the time before she went to school, her childhood in Kautokeino, experiences during the war, and memories from her school days at the deaf school. Here are some excerpts from what she shared. You can read the full interview in the link below (translated from Norwegian): 

What was it like to be a Sámi student at the school? 

Kirsten doesn't remember there being much discussion about it at school. She had brought her "kofta" (traditional Sámi clothing) from Kautokeino and remembers that the housemother where she lived liked to show her off to her friends. The children from the school were sometimes taken on "coffee visits" to wealthy citizens in the city to receive donations for the school: 

"I also remember the housemother well because she liked to dress me in my kofta and go visiting her friends when she had time off. We would walk down the street so she could show me off and then visit someone. These visits could be late into the evening, and I was often tired and worn out when we returned. The next morning I was tired at school. This lasted until I was in 3rd or 4th grade." 

"When the war was over, all the students were able to go home. I traveled to Kvænangen, and my mother and father came to pick me up. I told my mother that I didn't want to wear Sámi clothes at school. I wanted her to hide them at home or give them to Ellen, my relative. I was so tired of the housemother and other teachers taking me on coffee visits to show me off. I wanted to play with the other children at the deaf school. It was a struggle to be shown off like that. But I didn't tell my mother that." 

"When the fall came and I was back at the deaf school, the housemother asked about my Sámi clothes. She said I was foolish for leaving them at home. I didn't answer. I couldn't. The principal also thought I should have brought my Sámi clothes with me." 

Although many of the students left home at a young age and missed their families, many found joy in meeting other children and young people who were also deaf and with whom they could communicate. Some children came from homes where no one knew sign language, and in those cases, they lived in an isolated world. The Sámi children could lose their connection to their Sámi culture, but at the same time, they became part of another community. Kirsten Sara Ørnes describes this conflict: 

"Today, I feel Sámi, not Norwegian, but I don't know the language. I use Norwegian. I was schooled away from my culture, but remember, it was necessary. Kautokeino didn’t have education for deaf students. The alternative would have been to not receive any education at all. What then? It’s painful to have lost my language and culture, but I gained another that I can communicate in. I’ve also gained a cultural affiliation with the deaf community. When I meet my people, I wish I could speak Sámi. But back then, there was no talk of Sámi at the deaf school. And nothing about family being able to learn sign language. I had a good relationship with my brother. After being away for so long and returning as an adult, it wasn’t the same. We didn’t know each other. Things change over the years, and I was very disappointed when I realized I was a stranger. So much had happened in those years." 

Thanks to Kristin Sara for the information and permission to publish her mother’s story. 

Sources and further reading

Folketelling 1910, Digitalarkivet. 009 Per Anti - 03 - 0017 Søndregate 13 - 020 - Tellingskretsoversikt - Folketelling 1910 for 1601 Trondheim kjøpstad - Digitalarkivet 

Norsk døvemuseum, Museene i Sør-Trøndelag.

Sara, K. (2010), “Fra Kautokeino til døveskolen”, Samisk skolehistorie 4. 

Takk til Kristin Sara for informasjon og tillatelse å publisere sin mors historie.