A Friend of Her Own - 9/2018

Yesterday evening we returned from Inland Valley Deaf and Hard of Hearing Family Camp.  This was Katie’s 5^th Deaf camp this year, 3 of which were family camps/events, the other two were just for her. As Katie has gotten older I have become more concerned with how few social opportunities she has with peers that are fluent in ASL. 

Katie is generally a happy, confident and social kid.  She has rarely been deterred by her Deafness in a hearing setting.  While Katie has some Deaf, signing peers at school, it simply isn’t the same as having Deaf friends to socialize and play with. 

There have been many trials, mistakes, questioning, and changes of course on this journey of parenting a Deaf child, but there are only a few times I can point to concrete experiences that provided those rare moments of clarity.  One was the first time I took Katie to ASL coffee, her eyes were filled with shock as she looked around the outdoor patio filled with people signing. She looked up at me and signed “same” and confidently walked around interacting with people.  She seemed to have a sort of “Deaf radar,” expertly navigating around the students to interact with the Deaf adults.  Katie was 4 years old.  That night, every time I suggested it was late and we needed to get going, she begged to stay.  I’m pretty sure we were there until almost 11 pm.  She fell asleep in the car, with both hands twitching. 

The second time was when I took Katie to California School for the Deaf, looking for a better educational alternative.  From the moment we walked into the office with everyone signing, to the classroom visit where the teacher greeted her in ASL, and the kids introduced themselves in ASL she was hooked. Recess on the playground with all the kids using ASL was mind blowing! Again, there was this indescribable glow, similar to the one that many of us get when we finally get home and walk through the door after a long trip.  This was also one of the first times she confidently asked me if she could stay in the classroom, while I finished the tour.  I watched in the distance as she communicated with the other girls, and was surprised to see her interacting so much, an unusual sight.  She cried when I picked her up and told her it was time to go home, she begged to stay for lunch (which was against their rules). She was 6 years old on this visit, and 7 when she transferred.

The third time was yesterday, or more accurately the week-end.  Katie really connected with a friend at Inland Valley Deaf & Hard of Hearing family camp.  There was nothing particularly remarkable about their budding friendship, except that this is the first Deaf, signing friend she had made on her own, and been able to hang out with outside of a school setting.  She relished every second she could spend with Ellie, they were in the same activity group, Katie asked to eat meals next to Ellie, and during our down time they spent their time together, Katie even spent time in Ellie’s cabin. Sadly, I did draw the line when Katie asked to spend the night with them.  It became a joke between Ellie’s parents and I, about who was going to draw up the adoption papers.  Katie’s behavior towards both Sam and I at camp was at times questionable, though now in reflecting I realize she was really trying to protect and savor her new friendship, as something she didn't want to share.  

On Sunday, as time to leave approached Katie started to get emotional.  It was heartbreaking to watch the tears stream down her face as we drove away.  I thought it seemed a little ridiculous… she was acting as though she were moving away from a lifelong childhood friend.  Somewhere along the way I realized, that was exactly what it felt like for her.  Finally a friend of her own, that she could play with, tell secrets with, take selfies with, giggle with and most importantly fully communicate with.  Finally, no more head nodding and disingenuous affirmations to hide the fact that she wasn’t understanding what was being said because the friends were hearing. 

 

For my part, I gave her a lot of freedom and watched from the distance.  Watching the two of them with hands flying gave me a glimpse of my daughter that I rarely see.  I commented to a friend that I have no doubt Katie’s language (incidental) grew more in this week-end than it does in a full week of school. It was intoxicating to watch. I WANT this for my daughter, not once or twice a year at camp or events, but regularly.  I tried to convince this family they needed to move to San Diego, but honestly, they have a really solid and enviable village in their area.