No deafness please, I’m hearing.

Let’s talk cochlear implants. What do you think of when you see the words? For me, they are a risky option for my child, a decision that weighs down heavily on already tired shoulders. We are learning the views of many Deaf adults and the history behind these views which makes for painful learning and a new appreciation for all that is Deaf culture. Cochlear implants are often sold as a gold standard ‘fix’ or ‘cure’ of deafness, not necessarily in those exact terms but not far off. This is something that makes me feel entirely uncomfortable. I think that those views comes from deafness being seen as a sad thing that needs a cure- a view that, I reckon, comes from not actually knowing Deaf people in real life which compounds a history of oralism forced on Deaf community, where BSL was banned and only acceptable communication was one that Deaf people couldn’t fully access. (For further reading look up Alexander Graham Bell’s work and the Milan Conference). I’m learning now and because I know better, I can do better, and I can share some thoughts to help other people do the same. I struggle with the idea of my child being seen as less than, or in need of fixing.

It is really hard, as a parent, to hear people (mainly health professionals) discussing how they want to ‘fix’ your child. The same child who has, amongst many other wonderful things, taught you more about communication and language than you ever imagined and has opened the door to the Deaf community, learning about the culture and history of the community while making friends (which, as an adult, is such a difficult undertaking- any introverts reading will understand the struggle of making friends as an adult!). He has delays due to the failures of health professionals, something I remain angry about and will fight for him to get the support he needs but to be clear- he doesn’t need fixed, he was fearfully and wonderfully made.

We are learning British Sign Language (BSL) as a family, and our son has taken to it so naturally. Access to BSL is totally inadequate here in Scotland, which I didn’t realise until I had a Deaf child of my own. Most d/Deaf children are born to hearing parents (like us) and so much more needs to be done to allow families to communicate with their child in their own language. BSL has opened up our son’s life in more ways than I could ever put into words. The frustrations of language deprivation are melting into the background of a child who can now express his cheeky sense of humour (and love for making people laugh), can discuss what he wants and needs, and be involved instead of always on the outside of family time. Of course, a 3 year old’s communications with parents who are beginners of a new language can have difficult moments, but the change is undeniable. We were advised against learning BSL with him, told that it would hinder his chance at speech, but that has proven (in our story, but also in scientific studies) to be absolute rubbish. We saw him learning BSL and now he is also learning speech. The language base of BSL is undoubtedly the foundations for this and I think that all d/Deaf children should have access to learn BSL from a young age.

BSL is important for hearing people too! My hearing son has learned so much from BSL, and loves the deeper bond with his brother now they have language in common. I am loving learning BSL. I wish my love for it translated into competence but alas, that’s not quite the case. My face hasn’t caught up with my hands so learning about and utilising the non-manual features of BSL such as facial expression has been very tricky; explaining that I’m frustrated about something while showing my almost painted on smile in conversation is wildly confusing. When we first started learning, our tutor described our son as having Deaf culture within him, and I am constantly looking to him as my reminder to work hard through these difficulties. Things that come naturally to our children but are a learning curve for parents don’t feel easy, but seeing your child thrive is worth every tricky curve that comes our way.

Cochlear implants might be a tool we choose for him, but that is all they would be- a tool, just like the hearing aids he currently uses. He would still be deaf and they wouldn’t replace his need for BSL as language, we wouldn’t looking for them to do anything other than offer him more access to things he is enjoying- like music. (I didn’t expect to have YouTube dance videos on repeat for my Deaf child, but you try and stop him dancing when Jerusalema comes on- you’ll have a fight on your hands and I, from experience, can tell you now that you’ll lose.)

When my boy was knit together in my womb, he was created with value and made in the image of God. Churches are often not a welcoming place for disabled people. I think people forget that disabled people are cherished children of God too, not a consequence of sin or as proof that our world is broken. He doesn’t need prayers for healing, he needs prayers for access. Sometimes those prayers could do with being about our own misconceptions of disability, whatever they look like.

‘Fixing’ deafness isn’t the goal, actively welcoming difference is. Diversity is beautiful, and sometimes needs us to step out of our comfort zone in order to see this. I’d love to see this attitude shift everywhere, especially in churches. In church we often hear about being the hands and feet of Jesus, and I believe the hands of Jesus are fluent in BSL.