ruminations

This post has two parts.

Part the First: wherein encounters with the public library lead to benefits beyond my wildest dreams.

I am attempting to renew our overdue relationship with the public library. (heh, heh.) The public library and I have a rocky relationship that is based on fines. When we moved to this house last fall we changed counties from the 'burbs to the city. About a month ago I finally got a library card for the Free Library of Philadelphia. This is what our public library is called, because Ben Franklin invented it and back then what made it distinctive was that it was free. (Except I can't remember if that meant Free, as in no charge, or free, as in anyone can use it, or something else, but "free" is the operative word) (Except in my case, where it should be called Fine Library of Philadelphia--in my defense, though, I'm not doing too badly. under $10 over the month.)

Since it is for the sake of the children that I subject myself to this torturous remembrance of immanent due dates, we've mostly emerged from our local branch carrying piles of kids books and DVDs. And they're really enjoying that. Did you know that Scholastic has recorded tons of books onto DVD? So that means that it's like Not-as-bad TV time, because they're sorting of reading a book, too. See, smart parenting right there. (/sarcastic)

But a few days ago I was browsing around the Free library website looking for something to put on hold for me, since browsing in a library with little ones in tow is basically a non-option. I came across their online databases.

I have access to Oxford Music Online--including Grove Music!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have been without any access, save for Google, these past years, and it is like coming across an oasis in the desert. I'm giddy, my step is a little lighter, and I can stand a little taller. I have Access. The hallowed gates to academic research are now open to, yea, even this Non-affiliated Mother of Toddlers.

Part the Second: wherein Access affords interesting discoveries.

The other big thing happening for me right now is that I'm applying to grad school again. Right now I'm in the throes of GRE prep. *groan* But soon I'll be writing essays and whatnot to get my applications together by December.

One of the things I've been doing in order to focus myself to write these eventual essays is articulate exactly which avenues of research I'm really interested. My main area is, of course, late medieval/early Ren. music history, and my main work will probably be done in that area. But there's a lot of interesting things happening in scholarship that can open up different kinds of questions.

The world of Deaf is now an inextricable part of my life, thanks to my son. Before Ellis was born, I didn't know anything about deafness or deaf people. Now, though sometimes it feels like deafness is this little insular minority, it also feels like I see it everywhere now. I never bumped into Deaf people before I had Ellis, now we do all the time. I say this a little jokingly, because I very well may have before, but because we weren't attuned to signing and deafness, we may never have know. Now, if we're signing or see someone else signing, it's a lot easier to make that connection.

I'm rambling a little, but I guess I'm asking the question, what if I put on the eyeglass of deaf and then looked at teh world of music history? how would I understand the music experience of deaf people? Where would that take me?

First, there's Beethoven. What did he have to say about being deaf? There's obviously the Heiligenstadt Testament.

...thus it has been during the past year which I spent in the country, commanded by my intelligent physician to spare my hearing as much as possible, in this almost meeting my natural disposition, although I sometimes ran counter to it yielding to my inclination for society, but what a humiliation when one stood beside me and heard a flute in the distance and I heard nothing, or someone heard the shepherd singing and again I heard nothing, such incidents brought me to the verge of despair, but little more and I would have put an end to my life - only art it was that withheld me, ah it seemed impossible to leave the world until I had produced all that I felt called upon me to produce...

I am sure there is stuff out there on Beethoven and deafness.

Then, there is also Deaf people who make music. I will certainly explore that.

But then, when I plugged deaf into Grove Music I found something I wasn't even looking for.

Contemporary German composer Helmut Oehring (b. 1961) was born the hearing child of deaf parents. His first language in the home was sign language. (I'm presuming German sign language.) He incorporates deafness and signing into his compositions.

Oehring's compositions derive from the complex physical and facial expressions of sign language, which he notates as music. His works outline bleak narratives that address the chasm between individuals and the futility of communication. His early compositions are concerned with stages of agony and human actions that lead to death; in later works, speech as a symbol of the impossibility of human discourse becomes the central musical subject. Much of his work can be considered social criticism. Several compositions include deaf people among the performers.
(Gisela Nauck. "Oehring, Helmut." Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. 11 Aug. 2010 .)

He uses deaf people signing as soloists in some of his works. Look at the instrumentation for a couple of his pieces:
* Wrong (Schaukeln-Essen-Saft) (B. Sellin, Oehring), deaf person, ob, b tpt/trbn, vn/va, elec gui, perc, live elec, 1993–5;
* Self-Liberator (Oehring, R. Taumel), 2 deaf people, tpt, ens, 1994
* ER.eine.She, 1v + b fl, 3 deaf soloists, vc, installations, elecs, 2002

I'm wondering, do the soloists themselves have to be deaf? or just sign? (I'm inclined to think the former.)

I tried to find a good YouTube clip. This is the best I could find, a sampler of his works. Skip ahead to 5'10" to find the piece with the deaf soloist.

I don't really know what she is saying. German Sign Language? and the highly stylized signing for the context?
I find the staging to be really striking. Distinct contrasts between light and dark. Her face and hands stand out against the dark background, no doubt to ensure that they are clearly seen.

Anyway, can you tell I'm totally fascinated by this? Guess I'll have to reacquaint myself with the German language again.

A bunch of my fellow mothering peeps have been writing posts every week about "real" moments, not just the shiny, happy blogpost-worthy moments, of motherhood. I fully intended to participate, but, to be honest, usually on Mondays, I don't feel up to facing reality. Either I'm in a really good mood, and don't want to think about "real." Or I'm too grumpy, I couldn't show that side of myself on the internet.

My true confession: most of the time, I don't feel cut out for the stay-at-home-mom gig.
It's complicated to say that. Because it doesn't mean that I don't love my kids or want to be with them. Nor does it mean that I don't embrace the ennobling aspects of raising children. It's hard to make the mothering jive with the other desires and gifts rolling around in my head. And I wonder how to play things out practically.

I keep trying to write a post about this, but I can't quite explain it. What IS real? The truth is, I'm trying to figure out a lot. It's part of the reason, I haven't been blogging so much. I used to just brain barf on my blog, now I don't feel so free to do that.

If we could just paint all day, I'm sure that would help. Who needs to tidy up and do laundry anyway?

For the rest of the peeps, check out the list:
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Over the past several months, my thoughts sometimes wander to the topic of higher education, specifically, how technology may (will?) shape how the institutions of higher education. Will the structures at the university level be impacted by technology and what will this look like? I find this a fascinating topic. Partly because I'm marginalized by the existing structure: mother of two young children. The university is a crazy structure with vestiges of medievalism and a male, leisure class that don't fit with today's high-paced, egalitarian world.

I don't think we'll see an overnight change of the problems of the tenure track system, but I do think we'll gradually see interesting developments in the use of technology. First, I think having so much information at our fingertips will change the nature of research topics and how they're presented. So much more information can be digested in a single sitting today than could be even just five years ago. Different kinds of topics could be explored more easily, from one's home computer connected to high-speed internet perusing digital images and downloading sound files, than could be when one had to travel to each individual library and plunk out sound bits on the keyboard in the practice rooms, trying to imagine the keyboard as chant.

Secondly, I think technology effects who can play. With more information more readily available, more people can play in the pool, so to speak. One of my best friends submitted her dissertation this spring with 15mo twins playing at her feet. She will readily admit that this was not possible without the internet. Even four years ago, I found this true while working on Wretched Thesis. If I couldn't take digital images of the manuscript I was working on and then perused Google Scholar by night, there's no way I could've written what I did (but then maybe the world would've been a happier place) (kidding!) (sort of). All this to say, people with obligations that keep them from committing themselves 100% body and soul to the academic institution now have a fairer chance than before to participate. That's not to say that it will be fair when they get there, but at least they chances they didn't have.

The last effect that I want to talk about at the moment is more ambiguous. It has to do with classes. I was chatting with an middle-aged professor recently, who, face it, probably is not on Facebook. He was bemoaning technology, seeing the future of the internet and the classroom as simply those dreadful online classes. I agree. One cannot simply airlift the classroom lecture format into a online format. And sometimes that happens.

So what can this look like?
I don't like to think of losing the personal interaction of the classroom, the intimacy that is so special between teacher and students and students with each other. At the same time, though, I will admit that I have a few online friends whom I have never met, but who i consider to be some of my closest friends. So maybe being personal, coram persona, isn't necessary.
One possible solution is the model of shorter bursts of times of higher intensity could be used. The one-week seminar, where everyone holes up for a week and then emerges experts. Those experiences are exhausting, wonderful, and intensely gratifying. Students could work on their own, communicating with the prof electronically, for several weeks, and then have a focus week where it all came together.
There's also a scenario where students could participate in real time conversations via their individual webcams.
There's message boards, blogs, online reading discussions.
All these things are being used already in some cases.
And all these scenarios begin to diminish the necessity of geographical location.

It's like Thomas Friedman said, the world is flat. Friedman quotes the Indian executive, "[computers] created a platform where intellectual work, intellectual capital, could be delivered from anywhere. It could be disaggregated, delivered, distributed, produced, and put back together again--and this gave a whole new degree of freedom to the way we do work, especially work on an intellectual nature..." (pg. 7) Friedman's executive is mostly talking about the computer industry, hardware, software, engineering. Why can't the intellectual community of the academy take similar advantage?

In the brave new world of the socially networked higher academy, you could take a class with a professor in NY and in LA at the same time. You could start a career and build on it sooner. The out-of-control student loan problem would be erased, because school wouldn't cost so much. Imagine if universities networked you with jobs and education at the same time. College is fun, but it is an unnatural environment and leaves you high and dry and in deep debt (unless you are supremely lucky) when you're done. Graduate school? more debt. And, if you're in the humanities, probably not a job.

It could also solve the problem of dysfunctional graduate departments. Advisors who don't advise and whatnot. Because a student could choose anyone in the world. Professors would have to market themselves a bit. Checks and balances would build themselves into the system. Merit would matter. Finally!

Now, the only question remains, how to make money at this? corporate sponsorship for their future work force? But then where does that leave the medievalists? and the moms? we do need to eat after all.

My kids struggle to stay asleep. It's kind of rough going. I've read about sleep. I've tried every strategy possible. People have offered well-meaning advice (nb: don't offer advice). I've done all I can. Seriously, I have. I really don't think there's food allergies or reflux. I've tried giving him more and less independence/space. I've tried swaddling/unswaddling. I've tried putting him in his carseat/in his pack'n'play. He has always had a consistent sleep routine. Sleepy signs? I'm a pro at reading them. When I say I have tried it, I mean it. (Except for extended crying-it-out, which I simply don't believe in.)

Now I just must wait as they grow out of it. And they will. I normally don't talk about it, because what can I say? Marlowe may go a couple of hours without waking, but at certain points in the night, it is hourly. I cope by sharing sleep with my babies. His waking is of minimal disturbance to me as possible, because all I have to do is scooch over a little and pop his pacifier in or switch sides and let him nurse a little. Sometimes he really cries a lot, and then all I have to do is sit up in bed and rock and hold him and soothe him back to sleep. He goes to sleep at naps/night without any trouble. It's staying asleep that's so difficult.

For the most part, I cope, because I have to, and I have sort of gotten used to it. I struggle in more abstract respects, like stringing thoughts together--I can't imagine if I had tried to stay in grad school. I have difficulty remembering things and sometimes following through in certain tasks. A touch of ADD plus extended sleep deprivation just really decimates some of those mundane tasks that seem so effortless for some people, like going to the post office, organizing the pantry, or sorting the clothes the kids have grown out of. Lately I've been trying to sit down and just really try to think on a subject, let the thoughts roll together and form coherence, an activity that I used to do every day for a meager living in grad school. It's really difficult and frustrating now. I feel like a marathon runner who broke a leg in the fog.

I'm not sure why I'm writing about it now. It's such a sensitive topic. It's hard to expose this "parenting failure" of mine, because of just that, I feel like it looks like I'm a failure. I struggle that I care so much what others think that it actually makes me feel that way. I'm pretty confident that I've dealt with the situation as best I can, so why should it feel like failure? or why should worry that other people will think that I've failed in some respect? Sometimes I sit holding him at night, and I begin to feel angry. I think of what I would imagine people to say, judging my choices, and I feel isolated and hurt. Now this is probably a character flaw of my own--getting angry at the imaginary voices. But the isolation is real. I sit and just wonder, how? HOW? HOW!??! do other babies simply sleep? And then I think of my boys and their little brains, how active they must be, that they need to reach for the familiarity and the stability of their parents' love, even in the middle of the night, and how that love is freely offered, night after night. How it is one more way that I can show Christ's love to them. And then I go to sleep, confident and peaceful that it is not "mommy failure" to serve my kids, and in a strange way, content with the fact I will assuredly be awakened much sooner than my earthly body would prefer.

So today marks seven years since Sept. 11, 2001. I can always remember which year, because it was three months after we got married.

I was sitting in our New Orleans apartment with my morning coffee. My grad student hubby had gone to class and I was on his computer checking my email and waiting for a phone call to schedule a follow-up interview for my first job. (Except I probably didn't know that I was waiting for this phone call at the time.) I got an email from my former college roomie, also newlywed and at her first job. "Have you seen the news?" I thought this was sort of weird, since it was midmorning. At first I wasn't sure how to "see the news", but I figured if it was noteworthy enough for a midmorning email, it might be on TV. We barely got any channels, but there it was on the TV, the World Trade Center falling. It was scary and confusing at first. Were we at war? Would there be a draft? (Yea, I admit, I thought that right away; I was newlywed, after all.) Hubby came home from cancelled class, and we watched awhile, went over to his colleague's house with cable and watched some more. After a couple of days we stopped watching. Louisiana felt so far away from New York, like an alternate reality.

So, where were you?

Yesterday Marlowe was baptized into the family of faith. A moment of great rejoicing in our family.

Do you acknowledge that, although our children are conceived and born in sin and therefore are subject to condemnation, they are holy in Christ, and as members of his church ought to be baptized?

Do you promise to instruct your child in the principles of our holy religion as revealed in the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, and as summarized in the Confession of Faith and Catechisms of this Church; and do you promise to pray with and for your child, to set an example of piety and godliness before him, and to endeavor by all the means of God's appointment to bring him up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord?

Marlowe didn't cry at all. He didn't make a peep the whole time except for a tiny coo once while I was still holding him. He did, however, poop right before we were supposed to go up, so no chance to change him. (Sorry, Mark) Ellis also did really well. He kept waving to the grandparents (my ILs go to the same church and my parents came up from Lancaster--about an hour and a half--for church and dinner. and one of my sisters and one my brothers were there, too). I was glad he was well-behaved and didn't do something crazy like try to knock the cup of water over. He seemed really interested. He signed "eat". I think he thought it was the Lord's Supper (though nothing was set out for it). Signing is fun, because we could talk to Ellis the whole time and explain as best we could what was happening.

My family stayed for lunch. And some friends joined us.

In the afternoon, we had cake and invited church friends to celebrate with us. It was warm with a coolish breeze. Perfect late summer afternoon.

* * *

From the Book of Church Order
Baptism is a sacrament ordained by the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a sign and seal of the inclusion of the person who is baptized in the covenant of grace. Teaching that we and our children are conceived and born in sin, it witnesses and seals unto us the remission of sins and the bestowal of all the gifts of salvation through union with Christ. Baptism with water signifies and seals cleansing from sin by the blood and the Spirit of Christ, together with our death unto sin and our resurrection unto newness of life by virtue of the death and resurrection of Christ. Since these gifts of salvation are the gracious provision of the triune God, who is pleased to claim us as his very own, we are baptized into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. And since baptized persons are called upon to assume the obligations of the covenant, baptism summons us to renounce the devil, the world and the flesh and to walk humbly with our God in devotion to his commandments.

Although our young children do not yet understand these things, they are nevertheless to be baptized. For the promise of the covenant is made to believers and to their seed, as God declared unto Abraham: "And I will establish my covenant between me and thee and thy seed after thee throughout their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be a God unto thee and to thy seed after thee." In the new dispensation no less than in the old, the seed of the faithful, born within the church, have, by virtue of their birth, interest in the covenant and right to the seal of it and to the outward privileges of the church. For the covenant of grace is the same in substance under both dispensations, and the grace of God for the consolation of believers is even more fully manifested in the new dispensation. Moreover, our Saviour admitted little children into his presence, embracing and blessing them, and saying, "Of such is the kingdom of God." So the children of the covenant are by baptism distinguished from the world and solemnly received into the visible church.

I was trying to explain this to myself earlier today, why we do what we do with respect to some of our parenting choices. I feel like this post by Sally Clarkson really nailed a lot of what I was trying to hash out in my own brain:

Not too long ago, I was meeting with a sweet mom in a coffee shop and she brought her two children along. They were sweet children, but they were all over her and ran her ragged. I was talking with my older children later about it and asked them what we did differently. It was humorous to hear how opinionated they were, but it also reminded me how intentionally we taught them to be patient and to wait their turn–because they all remembered it the same way. It is the concept that I call self-government–probably a Victorian character quality that I read about along the way and in a book about the principle approach to life.

The definition of self-government is the idea that a person learns to command himself, his impulses, his work habits, his emotions, His intellect and talents and rule over his will in a productive way. Children can begin this at a very early age, but it is also of utmost importance to adults–as one cannot be a mature believer unless one has mastered self-government and self-control and patience.

...

Sometimes when people find out that Clay and I are grace-based in our approach to parenting, people assume that that means lenient and undisciplined. However, we were very idealistic and had high expectations for our children, but we instructed them through consistent training, not primarily through force and multiple spankings but through relational discipleship based training. Our philosophy also looked at each child differently–as an individual–so that we could best figure out what appealed to and reached teh heart of each child. Introverts responded differently and behaved differently than our extroverts. Boys were differently wired than our girls. Learning issues and maturity levels greatly influenced a child’s ability to be mature. All factors which cause us to understand that we needed to appeal to each child’s heart based on knowing the heart of each child.

Yet another rare appearance by Dad!

Ever see Das Boot, or Crimson Tide? The Hunt for Red October doesn't count, because it doesn't really convey the reality of daily life on a submarine. It's excruciatingly boring, characterized by much olfactory discomfort, governed by very strict rules of economy, and only occasionally interrupted by periods of spine crushing intensity.

Which is to say that after a nice vacation from being hot under the collar about Deaf stuff I'm back in the game. Jeannette cajoled me into attending a CI parent forum at CHOP, yesterday. I thought it would be nice to show up to something with her, for once, and I'm glad I did.*

Last year's forum was dominated by the Orals, but this year's was different. There was only one or two of 'them' to three of 'us' on the panel. And I know there were some quality people in the audience besides, so that's at least a pretty good balance-- even slightly in our favor.

There was something that bothered me, though. We call ourselves bilingual/bicultural. That means that we are committed to bringing Ellis up to 'know he is deaf.' That's why ASL remains so important to us.

But I'm worried when I hear other bi/bi families say that their child is backing off of ASL now that they are implanted. And something doesn't feel right when they say things like this:

"We want to hold on to ASL because we want our child to be able to have friends that are deaf."

"We think it's important to recognize that even though our child can hear some things, she still is deaf, and there will be times when she isn't wearing the CI when we still need to communicate."

On the surface, comments like these are right on. They indicate that the family is not the sort who fears diversity. They aren't afraid of the challenge of learning a completely different way of communicating. They accept their child's deafness, and don't think of it as a problem to be fixed.

So what's wrong with this? Well, this is the way I put it to Jeannette after the forum. When a child is implanted, the parents immediately get to work teaching the child to listen and speak. It isn't a natural skill, so it has to be practiced. All the time. Parents are under enormous pressure to KEEP THAT CI ON. All the time. Parents at these forums talk about their strategies for doing this, and talk about whether or not it's 'OK' to let the kid have down time without the device. They talk about how sometimes their child chooses to sign something, even though they know how to say it. So they refuse to acknowledge the attempt at communication unless it's verbalized.

There is a tension, because on the one hand, he does need to wear it a lot to get the benefit from it, and he does need to be encouraged to use his new skill of speaking because, like any skill, it takes practice.

But on the other hand, why does he have to have it on all the time? Is it only OK to 'let' him take it off when he's exhausted after a day of listening?

There just seems to be an imbalance here. We talk about 'letting' him take it off. Why should having it on be the default, while having it off is the exception? Why are we not as creative and proactive about getting him to practice his signing as we are about getting him to speak?

Jeannette already mentioned that Ellis took off his CI for a couple of hours the other day, because he wanted to enjoy wearing his hat without worrying about the magnet. Fine. I have no problem with him taking it off for a midday break or after speech therapy. Our whole evening routine, from bath to bed (including story time) is done sans CI. Listening is hard work, and he gets tired!

I think that what bothers me is that the arguments given for keeping ASL around after implantation almost always are exlusively pragmatic. It's something families felt forced into initially, because it was the only or best option before their kid was implanted. And they continue to think that it's a good idea to 'have' sign, but when the implant comes along they fully intend to make speech the default mode. They want their child to be able to switch from the hearing world into the deaf world, not the other way around. I think that's an important difference.

So for us ASL was not only a pragmatic choice but an ethical one. We want him to be Deaf, and we want sign to be his language. We also want him to have every advantage as he navigates the majority hearing culture. And it becomes really difficult to figure out how to manage this in daily language interactions with our 2 1/2 yo. It's important to us that he continues to grow in sign, to use proper ASL grammar, and to give to it all the seriousness we would any other language. But at the same time, give him all the benefit and training to use his CI to the best of his ability.

I really have no idea what this looks like. I probably don't have a clue what I'm talking about. Just so many thoughts in my head at the moment.

* To his credit, hubby works 60+ hours a week. I end up doing things alone, because he's working so hard for us. Didn't want him to give you the wrong idea. ;-)

I've been doing more research on the internet. I think I just need to go away and read a novel. I'm dreaming about deaf issues lately. It's just all deaf all the time. I'm trying to get a feel for the CI community. It's something I've resisted for a long time, because my first experience with it was so depressing. But it's a reality in my life now, and at some point I'll have to reckon with it.

I have mixed emotions reading accounts. For one, I can't believe how quickly people move. How in the 2 or 3 short months of their child's life they have a complete understanding of all educational options and laws in the area, two hearing aids, a possible CI surgeon, genetic tests, and the gamut of other tests done they urge you to do. How is that enough time to truly process that information? How is that enough time to really establish a breastfeeding relationship, for pete's sake!? I wouldn't bring my newborn infant into the germy hospital that often. aack! *sigh* at the end of the day, I just want to say, you know what? he'll hear, he'll have his CI, just relax, sign a little with him. get to know your baby. Recover from childbirth, establish that relationship. You'd sign with a hearing baby, how is going to hurt the deaf baby to relax a little and just sign for a couple months.

It's dizzying reading the race for hearing on these blogs. They don't get a chance to get to know their deaf baby.
Sorry, if I offend, I'm just kind of overwhelmed, reeling from the frenetic grasping for hearing.

Though I almost never post on my wife's blog, I almost always read through the comments she gets re. d/Deaf issues. Mostly I tend to stay away from commenting, because I have a tendency to take things personally, whereas she is much more measured in her responses. However, I feel like taking this opportunity to reiterate for those not familiar with our story, some of our reasoning about the CI.

It seems that most of the negative reactions to Ellis' CI center on the accusation that we are doing what is best for ourselves, and not what is best for Ellis, because:

1. We made a decision on his behalf, without his knowledge or consent
2. The decision we made significantly alters his experience of being
d/Deaf; which is to say, we have interfered in the development of his
sense of self.

The irony here is that if we really had done what was best for ourselves-- that is, if we had made what for us would have been the easy decision, then Ellis would not be implanted. From the get-go, we had the following concerns about the CI:

1. If we implant him, will we get lazy and stop signing to him?
2. Will he be 'classed' or even rejected by the d/Deaf community?
3. Will bilingualism really work, or is it a fantasy that we can give him
the best of both worlds?

Here was the argument we made to ourselves about these concerns: every one of these worries is really a worry about our own commitment and our own sense of who Ellis is now and who we want him to become. The truly selfless thing to do would be to put aside our own anxieties and our own pride in his d/Deafness and choose the thing that will give him every opportunity to be successful in either or both worlds, as he chooses.

The fact of the matter-- and this comes from years of research, training, and experience as an educator of ESL students, is that there is no substitute for acquiring language at a young age. If a child misses the opportunity to learn language at a young age, it is almost impossible to catch up. Not that many haven't done very well, but they can never equal the ease and skill of the early learner.

To not implant Ellis, but to wait until he is an adult, would leave him at a disadvantage should he decide to keep the implant on. His choice would therefore not be between the best of either or both worlds. It would be between the ease and familiarity of deafness and the labor and discomfort of hearing. Not really a choice, is it?

(A deep breath) I can already hear the critics. They've stopped reading already, and they are already preparing their rants about how the devil parents have ruined their son, made him into a moron (?) etc. Maybe we did make a mistake. Shoot, we've made plenty of those already in the two years of his life and we expect to make a few more.

Thank goodness that Ellis doesn't have to be ruined by them, though. For all the talk here about identity, sense of self, etc., I have to say that our view of Ellis's personhood is limited neither by his deafness nor, should he have been born otherwise, his hearing. I hope that Ellis is a full enough person that whether he hears or not, whether he thinks of himself as Deaf or not, he finds a way to live an honest and honorable life in whatever circumstances he finds himself.

There is no way to save him from suffering. There is no way to avoid limiting his choices in some fashion, try though we might. In the end, whether hearing, deaf, blind, paralytic, male, female or neuter., we all have the same basic choices to make about how we will live with respect to our limitations. The choices that Ellis makes in this respect will determine the quality of person he is, and whether or not he merits our respect (he will always have our love).

UPDATE: (Mom here) We just want to clarify that by "acquistion of language" we don't mean, that in order to have Language he needs a CI. He already has a language: ASL, but a CI will help learn English more easily. Sorry. We gotta run, or I'd try to make this clearer.
Dad meant by "acquisition of language" the acquisition of English, treating ASL as a given, since that is already part of our lives.
In other words, BIlingual.