A Little Love, Please?

"Peter did you know there are people in the deaf community who think I'm abusing you by letting you get this cochlear implant?" Prepping for surgery a couple weeks ago, Peter rolled his eyes and waved his dad away. He's heard it before. "Those people are crazy. However, they're wrong."

It’s true that some hold to this view. While the blind cheer at advances in technology that enable them to see, and the Juvenile Diabetes Association presses for cures, there is in contrast, a school of thought within the deaf community that puzzles many. Some see deafness as a culture in peril, and medical technology is less a cause for hope and more of a menace. Hearing aids. Cochlear implants. Bone conduction equipment. By enabling children to someday function as hearing people, some in the deaf community fear that we threaten the very existence of a culture.

I don't pretend to completely understand their views. I think it's better for Peter to be able to order his own saturated fat at McDonalds or hear me yell, "Don't touch! That's hot!" (Or, "CAR!"; "FORE!"). And someday he may be glad to be able to hear when his children are in danger or need help.

The median reading level for the signing high school graduate is 4th grade (See Carol Bloomquist Traxler’s article, page 6). That means 50% read above 4th grade and 50% read below it. According to National Institute for Literacy, Fast Facts on Literacy 2001, More than 20 percent of adults (general population) read at or below a fifth-grade level. This brings up all sorts of questions about comparing Americans to the Chinese, phonics to whole language, and what causes that lower reading level among the signing community. But that’s for another post.

At 11 Peter isn't thinking quite that practically. He's glad to be able to be buddies with the boys at church, in 4-H, the neighbors, and classmates. In 2007 we uprooted our family and relocated in a city about two and a half hours away. It was tough on our verbal, social daughter. It was tough on our deaf but hearing, less-verbal son. What would it be like if the only people he knew who signed were family members? How much could he communicate on a basic level with his own community, let alone entertain a relationship? It wouldn’t really be his community, since he wouldn’t feel a part of it. You can see why the ASL people are concerned about the erosion of their culture. It would be incredibly lonely.

For children who grow up in a signing family, it makes a lot of sense to continue signing, but should those children be denied the opportunity to make friends with the neighbors? To be able to pursue almost any career they want?

As Peter waves his dad away, as if to wave away the idea he finds so “crazy,” I want to pull him aside for a private talk. Let's not call anybody “crazy,” I tell him; positive dialogue is never advanced by resorting to pejoratives anyway. Let's give them the latitude to decide for themselves, just like the latitude that we hope they’ll afford us. After all, I don't want their criticism either, even if I don't come to the same conclusions. Eleven-year-olds don’t always exercise the tact and gracious spirit we’d like to see. We’ll keep working on that with him. We’re going to encourage him to call a truce and promote profitable dialogue. That’s what Hands and Voices is doing. They’re supporting families without bias. As a homeschooler, I’ve always said that the best school choice for a child is the choice the parents make. And for a deaf child, the best choice is the one the parents make on his behalf. A little grace, please, from both sides of the aisle. After all, we’re all trying to do the very best for our children out of intense love and concern for their welfare.