Deaf parents have been successfully parenting for ages. The majority of us have done so without adaptive baby care equipment or professional guidance. Being deaf does not prevent a person from becoming a parent. Nor does it mean that our parenting will be deficient or not up to standards. Hearing people should take note: We, deaf parents, learn quickly how to build on our personal and family strengths. We, as well as our spouses and children, learn to adapt…
For example, when my son was in his crawling stage, if my back was turned and I could not hear him cry or laugh, he would stop what he was doing, crawl or scoot over to me until he was in my view, and then once I could see him, he would begin to emote as he was doing just a moment before. Hearing children with deaf parents learn to adapt.
My son would also exaggerate his expressions to clue me in to what he was feeling. Babies with facially expressive deaf parents tend to be very facially expressive themselves. The children learn from birth that eye contact and facial expressions play a big part in the expressing and understanding of communication between the themselves and their deaf parents.
When my son was about 18 months old, he came toddling into the living room where I was folding some clothes. He tugged on my pant leg and began toddling toward the kitchen. I didn’t think much of it until he came back. He was trying to say something to me, but I couldn’t read his lips yet or understand his gibberish. I picked up on the fact that he wanted me to follow him, so I did. He led me into the kitchen and then pointed his finger up at the sink. I looked up and saw that I had left the water running! He was already alerting me to the environmental sounds around our home that I could not hear. I found that remarkable!
Today, Paul will still alert me to the microwave ding, the oven timer, the doorbell, or the phone, regardless of the fact that I have visual alert systems in place for these environmental sounds. He has just taken it upon himself to help keep me connected to my world. Though it’s not entirely necessary, it’s still pretty wonderful.
I began exposing my son to sign language when he was a baby. He was signing before he was talking. All his babysitters were Deaf, native ASL users, or hearing people who knew and used sign language. I wanted him to continue to be exposed to sign language while I was away at work.
However, there were times when I got lazy and did not sign as much as I spoke with Paul. Being that spoken English is also my first language, I relaxed into this habit when I was at home, even though I knew it was not the best idea if I wanted to encourage Paul to sign. As a result, the sign language comes and goes with us. My bad.
For a while, my son struggled with a fine motor delay, which made tieing his shoe, holding a pencil, and signing difficult for him. Clearly, it was easier for Paul to speak than to sign. However, as he has become older, this has started to change. I am seeing him use more sign language with me because it has become more important for him to be understood. He will choose to turn off his voice and sign to me on his own.
With the advent of the TV cartoon program, Naruto, making hand signs has become quite popular among the boys at my son’s elementary school. My son’s exposure to sign language has put him ahead of his peers with the ability to make these hand signs. He prides himself on being one of the fastest “Jutsu” signers around our neighborhood!
Exposing him more frequently to my Deaf co-workers and their signing children, and taking him to more Deaf community family events, has helped him value signed communication. He is capable of reading some of the signs my Deaf friends use, but he is not always able to make the signs back. This will improve though with practice. I know it’s my job to teach him to sign. In order for him to use it more often, I have to use it daily with him here at home. I use ASL all day at work. When I come home, I tend to switch over to using speech instead of signs. Again, my bad.
To sign or not to sign with your children
is the boon or the bane
for Late-Deafened parents.
To his credit, Paul has become an articulate speaker, which I am most grateful for. He knows he needs to look at me when he speaks and to enunciate clearly so that I can read his lips. He has learned to be patient and repeat things for me when I am unable to follow and with encouragement, he will use his signs or finger spelling when I am unable to lip-read him. We laugh a lot at the funny things I think people are saying. Humor helps us all cope with my hearing loss.
Sometimes, Paul will ask my husband to interpret for him, as my husband knows and uses sign language. This works sometimes, but I prefer it when Paul signs or communicates with me directly rather than through another person. I try to make this a communication rule, relying on my husband to communicate only when the communication is urgent.
Eye contact has become another important communication rule in our family. Out of habit, my hearing husband and son also speak clearly and slowly while looking right at other people when they speak, whether they are deaf or not. Giving eye contact has just become a natural part of our lives. Eye contact is a wonderful interpersonal skill to have. It makes people feel connected. In the deaf world, the breaking away of eye contact is considered very rude. It’s like hanging up the phone or turning someone “off” so they can no longer communicate.
When my son was in pre-school, I remember having a parent-teacher conference where I had to explain our family dynamic of eye contact. The teacher said that my son would call out to her and tap her until she stopped to look at him. Only then would he feel satisfied and begin to tell her what he needed. She would answer him with her head turned away, but this wasn’t enough for Paul. He knew from our deaf/hearing family dynamic that communication only started once eye contact was given. After learning this, the teacher went from being slightly annoyed to being supportive and understanding of this occurrence.
As children with deaf parents grow, they begin to distinguish the difference in their parents and those of their friends. They recognize that one parent uses sign language to communicate and another doesn’t. They become aware when one mom responds and another misses the message. If I had hidden my hearing loss from others, my son might feel embarrassed that his mom was deaf.
But I have embraced my deafness, and my sense of deafhood has evolved over the years as I identify more and more comfortably with my deaf self. As a result, my son has actively joined me in teaching people what they need to do to communicate successfully with his mom.
I have helped my son accept my hearing loss by sharing my story with our neighbors, his teachers, his friends and their parents. I began teaching all the kids in the neighborhood some sign language and made it a cool skill to have. I went regularly into Paul’s classes and taught his classmates different ways to communicate with deaf, hard of hearing or late-deafened people.
I even taught them how to sign some songs. One year, I lead Paul and his 3rd grade class in 2 signed performances of the songs Imagine and Beautiful Boy, by John Lennon for the school’s multi-cultural festival, with Paul at the microphone introducing his mom’s unique language of signs.
By embracing my deaf self and making it cool to learn how to sign, Paul’s friends were able to accept my hearing loss, rather than tease or make fun of him because his mom could not hear. We continue to model and promote a healthy view of deaf people and the use of sign language in our home, in our neighborhood, and at Paul’s school.
