I am working towards a major in Deaf Studies and Sign Language. One of the classes that I took was Deaf culture. We learned a lot about the emotion impact of having a deaf child. Most parents want their child to be like them, but for a hearing parent to have a deaf child there is a morning that their child isn't like them and can't be like them. Just like the deaf parent that has a hearing child..They have the some feeling of loss.
My hearing uncle has a deaf son and I saw the struggles first hand and even though my cousin is in his thirties, there is still that struggle. My uncle never learned sign language and my cousin still feels disconnected from him.
This is an insert from one of my Deaf culture books:
Many parents with Deaf children must wonder what their children will say one day, as adults, about their upbringing. Here, one Deaf adult, Jack Levesque, eloquently responds to that unspoken question.
My Mother's Last Words
At the age of eighty, my mother asked me, "Did we do the right thing by sending you to the Clarke School for the Deaf? Was an oral education right for you?" At eighty-one, she said, "I should have learned signed language. But we were told it was not the right thing to do by the staff at the Clarke School. I can now see the difference in communication, and I see that it was a mistake not to learn sign language."
On July 10, 1992 at 10:20 a.m., my mother, Ruth Miller Levesque, passed away. I was at her side when she died. I had about three last hours to spend with this courageous woman before she slipped into a coma and passed away. It was obvious that we had very little time left, so we tried to say all the things we had in our hearts. I talked and lipread her. Toward the end, she wanted to tell me something. I didn't understand and asked her to repeat it. Twice more, I asked her to repeat. Then finally I gave her a piece of paper. She was only able to write the letter O, or maybe C,before her eyes closed and the deep sleep of coma overtook her.
In the weeks and month's before mother's death, we spent many hours going over issues and preparing for her death. It was done verbally--not comfortable, but adequately. My mother had made sure I got the finest oral education around. She was proud of my speaking and impressed by my less-than-perfect lipreading. But we never had a real conversation. Oh, I knew she loved me. I knew she was proud of me. But I'll never know her last words to me.
Her death was, in a way, a blessing. She had been in pain for two years due to cancer. I am comforted to think of her at peace and free from pain. But the frustration of our final moments together will haunt me. If she had learned signed language, she would have been able to tell me clearly whatever it was that was so important to her. That moment was a painful one. It made me think of all the other things she might have told be over the years, but didn't.
I can't change anything. I can't go back and make her hands fly easily. But I can make a plea to other parents of Deaf children:
Learn signed language.Communication between parent and child, or between any two people, is just too vital to be embroiled in communication methodology. The simple truth is: If you want fluent communication and a meaningful exchange of ideas, emotions, thoughts, and love with your Deaf child,
sign it.
Parents, don't let idealism and rhetoric get in the way of realism.
The point was made painfully clear to me that sad morning a few weeks ago. I shall always wonder what my mother wanted to tell me.
It's too late for me. Is it too late for you?
(Adapted from Levesque)
No mater what the language, we need to make sure we understand each other.
awesome so we pull over to take it all in. As we hear the thunder the loud crack follows immediately after. Fast.. one right after another. This is a prefect night.
