Author. Philosopher. Proud Gay Deaf Woman.
In 2010, Lex Shramko was the second deaf woman in the United States to earn her doctorate in Philosophy (and Women’s Studies) at Penn State University. While teaching as an adjunct lecturer at Penn State, she also worked as an instructional designer and accessibility technology consultant.

In 2016, she left her academic career in Pennsylvania and returned home to her roots in Virginia.
Moving into her parents’ attic, she began her literary hybrid memoir. Perhaps most importantly, it was in that attic that she found her voice as the deaf, gay daughter of a Ukrainian orphan survivor of World War II.
Over the last ten years Lex has focused on her craft as an author, thus taking her on an incredible journey. Her forays into the literary world include workshops, classes, conferences, and residencies. In 2019, she completed a year-long workshop with Hildie Block, a well-respected writing teacher in the DC area. With the support of Susannah Nevinson and Richard Peabody, she was selected for the VCCA residency in Virginia (2021) and again in Auvillar, France (2024).
Learn more about Shramko’s completed memoir, I Can Speak for Us Now (seeking representation), here. Below, enjoy some of Shramko’s published memoir excerpts as well as some fiction.
Published Pieces
My mother fled Ukraine in World War II. She says this is worse. – Washington Post (25 April 2022)*
“Quick tell me. Are they alive or dead?“

The Last Day of the War – Grace & Gravity V. XI*
“Mom points aggressively, her voice low and loud. ‘I looked around. And when I looked back…’
I wait. I half expect a scene of bloodied terror or tangled chaos.
‘There was nothing. No one. I never saw her again.‘”

280 Words – IHRAF: Voices of Ukraine*
“I held her obituary in my hands, late at night at that portentous midnight hour, and I was in shock. And yet I wanted to stay right there, suspended in a state of unreality where all my mother’s stories were not only true, they also had an echo. Someone else grew up with these stories, too.”

Unfamiliar Gifts – Broadkill Review*
“‘I am so sorry,’ she repeats, breathing the words out with each exhale. She looks stunned, and I want to soothe over her exposed parts. I also feel—I think—relief. As if a dam has been erected and there is a small platform where I can move safely, even if only a few feet in either direction, while I watch the torrent rush by. But these waters are slowing down, stilling into gentle pools of invitation, and I don’t know if I want—or even how—to test their waters.”

Existence – Gargoyle Magazine*
“Minutes passed as the brothers rocked on the balcony, their sorrow radiating out from their ledge, across the boulevard and through the bare tree branches and up the concrete walls of the Derzhprom where it settled on the macaques’ window ledge. Leaning into each other, they also rocked, echoing the dance of grief on the balcony across the boulevard.”

Temporal – Moon Park Review*
“I look at the paper in my hand, with her memories on one side, and history on the other side. Separate. Hauntingly un-braidable. Un-anchorable.”

Deaf Captain Wanted – Gargoyle Magazine
“We seek to hire full-time, licensed d/Deaf captains with sailing endorsements and minimum of 20 successful Banshee Devil Sea crossings.”

*Excerpts or companions to I Can Speak For Us Now