Imagine

Imagine being blind.  Imagine being born blind, never seeing colors or shapes.  Perhaps you can see differences between light and dark.  Perhaps you can see large shapes or movement.  Or maybe you have no vision, and never have.  You have no concept of what anything looks like, because you have never seen anything, ever.  If someone says the sky is particularly blue today, you have no idea what that means.  Maybe you can smell the air, cleaner than some days.  Maybe you feel the warmth of the sun.  Maybe you hear birds singing more loudly than usual.  But “blue” is utterly meaningless, and no one can explain to you what it means.  You have no frame of reference to even begin to understand.

Get this idea clearly set in your mind, really put yourself in this position.  Go ahead.  I will wait for you.

Now imagine going to school on your very first day ever.  Your family has told you all about the interesting things you will do and learn in school.  You feel excited to learn about the great music of Mozart, the literature of Dr. Seuss, math and geometry and history and all the rest.  Hooray!  The grand educational adventure begins today!

But something goes wrong.  When you get to school you do not hear anything.  No one is speaking.  Someone keeps putting their moving hands under your hands, but you have no idea why.  You put your hands behind your back, but someone drags them out, making you feel the moving hands again.  Maybe those moving hands mean something.  Is this a way to talk?  How are you ever going to figure out what all that motion means, and why won’t anyone speak out loud?

Well, little one, you have been put into a school that only uses a signed language.  It is easiest to understand if you can see it, but since you cannot see, you will have to make do with a different sense, touch, to figure out this new language.  You only have two hands, so you can only understand one person at a time, and even if you become proficient at this new language, you will not know what all the kids around you are saying—you will rely on the teacher to give you all the information about all class discussions.  Until you learn this language, you will not learn math or history or music or literature.  You must understand “blue” before you can really begin the educational adventure.

This seems a little silly, bordering on ridiculous, does it not?  Why would any thinking person force a blind child to read hands rather than simply teaching him in his native, oral, language?  How can this child be expected to learn under these circumstances?

But this is exactly what we are asking Deaf children to do every day.  Not only must they learn a new language, but they must learn it using a different sense.  Hearing is the easiest way to learn English, but we expect them to learn it by sight alone.  They are not allowed to learn literacy and numeracy until they learn this new language using a sense not meant for the language. 

Ridiculous!  These kids think visually, they see pictures in their heads, and have a finely developed spatial sense, honed by years of practice seeing special relations.  Imagine the engineers and architects they could become, understanding space and dimensions in a way less visual thinkers never will.  Think of the art they could produce, the roads they could design, the new maths they could invent, if only we gave them the information they need in a language they truly understand, without wasting prime brain growth stages of life on learning spoken English and lipreading. 

Deaf children should be taught in the sign language of their country.  English should be taught as a second language, but not at the expense of all the other fields of study that should be available to everyone.

Tiger Pets: Ridiculous, or Brilliant?

           When I was a kid, maybe seven or eight, I had a plan.  I found my mother and announced, “When I am sixteen, I will have a tiger for a pet.”  I thought sixteen was as grown-up as I was ever likely to be, and I certainly did not imagine my mother would still have anything to say about how I lived my life, let alone that I might still be living in her house.  My mother barely glanced at me and responded, “Leslie, no you won’t.  You know that’s ridiculous.”  I did not pursue the subject, but I certainly did not know it was ridiculous.  I just figured that I would do whatever I wanted when I finally reached the extremely grown-up age of sixteen.

            I did finally turn sixteen, and I had not forgotten my dream.  But by then I realized how little control I really had over my life.  My mother would certainly not allow a tiger in the house—she would not even allow a kitten.  I still thought tigers were elegant, exotic animals, and I thought I could still become a tiger trainer and spend my time on stage with several pet tigers when I finished growing up.

            Well, I grew up.  I got my own apartment (one that did allow pets, incidentally), but did not get a tiger.  Instead, I got kittens.  I began to understand how much work a tiger would take, how expensive, and how dangerous it would be in the house.  Kittens were hard enough on the furniture and my skin.  Now that I have my own house, I own a chihuahua.  He weights eight pounds, and sleeps on the back of the sofa where he can watch safely away from people feet.  He is all the time, energy, and money I am willing to expend on a pet.  I no longer wish for a tiger, in fact, I think a tiger is a ridiculous pet.

            It makes me wonder, though.  As I learn and grow, my opinions change.  New information becomes part of my schema, and my view of the world changes.  I have been disillusioned many times.  I have recognized my ill-informed views on many things.  I wonder what I know to be true and rational today, that will prove itself false and ridiculous tomorrow?