Introduction

The Choice of Deafness

Signed Languages and English

deaf/Deaf

A Language Funnel

Cochlear Implant Controversy

Lena’s New Life

On Teaching English

Works Consulted

 

 

Signed Languages and English

The most daunting decision parents must make for a deaf child is the mode of communication to be used at home and in school. For a hearing child, the first years of life are saturated with language-learning experiences. Even in the womb a hearing child is learning to distinguish his mother’s voice from others, and infancy continues this communicative bond with the foundation of being able to distinguish one sound from another in the blur of voices perceived during the first year. Toddlers and preschoolers are in constant need of verbal play and exchange as the language-learning centers in the brain develop and as understanding of the structure of language emerges. In homes where there is a Deaf parent and a Deaf child, the fluent use of sign from the beginning in everyday activities can take the place of oral language, but 95% of deaf children have hearing parents for whom sign as a native language is not an option.

Renowned linguist Noam Chomsky believes there are centers in the brain that are genetically predisposed to be imprinted with linguistic content. According to Chomsky,children are born with knowledge of the principles of grammatical structure inherent in all languages, and this inborn knowledge explains the success and speed with which young children learn language. The period of time for maximum language realization and native fluency is, however, limited to the first few years of life. Research supports the widespread belief that once children reach the age of five, their prime language-learning years are over and it is much more difficult to gain true language competence after that.  Memory skills such as the ability to repeat long sentences word for word, or recalling digits in a sequence, are diminished, and understanding of grammatical markers loses accuracy -- at least, for deaf children who are late learners of sign language. There is really no research documenting the differences in late learners of oral language (Mayberry 1258). Even for a late learner of sign, however, chances of developing enough bilingual English-language skill to read at functional levels, and even reasoning ability at higher levels, can be severely diminished. Social and emotional development also depend on free development of language in these years. The effects of a parent’s choice of communicative mode are therefore crucial to the deaf child’s quality of life and lifelong well-being.

Tragically, many parents are unaware of the implications of choices they must make. The most common approaches today are American Sign Language (ASL, the language of the American Deaf community); the oral or oral-aural approaches, using residual hearing with or without an emphasis on lip-reading; and Total Communication, really a variety of different methods of using speech simultaneously with sign to approximate visually the English syntactical structure. In the summer of 2000, I found myself faced with choosing one of these methods for a child we thought was already almost five, who had possibly missed the crucial language learning period of her young life. All the evidence we had suggested that Lena was remarkably well-adjusted for an orphan, much less a hearing-impaired one, and that she was a very intelligent child. As parents, our values and culture, and everything we use to make meaning of our lives and hoped to impart to our children, was based on access to the written word. Our number one priority for our children, hearing or deaf, was that they be able to read as well as they possibly could. More than intelligible speech, this was our great desire for Lena.

When I first began to investigate education options for the deaf, my first assumption was that the way one communicates with a deaf person is to use sign language. With Gallaudet University only a few miles from my home, I was aware of a thriving Deaf community with opportunities for higher education and a full social life. I investigated the Maryland School for the Deaf, a residential and day-school that teaches ASL as the first language for deaf children, with English taught as a second language through exposure to the written form. I soon learned that signed languages do not have the same word order or structure as spoken language, upon which written language is based. Moreover, to a profoundly deaf signer without access to phonetic information about spoken language, the written word is just a set of shapes to be memorized with no meaning associated from natural, everyday usage. English is truly a second language for most deaf signers, one that is more difficult to learn than Japanese for native English speakers. The closest association to written English is of course finger spelling, which is used with words for which there is no sign. The ASL finger spelling alphabet, however, is not for phonetic information in language. It is made up of an ASL sign for each written letter, without any association to the sound of the spoken word, and it is impractical for extensive language-development with small children.

A typical deaf child is taught several hundred English sight words through association with pictures, objects, or actions. These can be paired with signs in teaching them, but the child cannot “sound out” a word that is unfamiliar to her. She must either constantly have help, or be furnished with material that has only words already in her sight vocabulary. She is far from being an independent reader.A very small percentage of children, with enough parental or teacher support, can learn to read material well enough to pick up the meaning of unfamiliar words by the context or accompanying pictures. Function words, however, cause most deaf children difficulty. A hearing child picks up words like “the,” “an,” “of,” and “for” without effort over the first three to five years of life. But for the profoundly deaf child who grew up as a native signer, these words are first encountered in the written form. “The” or “of” is just a word to say, a word with no meaning that appears over and over. These function words can convince deaf children that reading is too difficult to master. In order to read above a fourth-grade level, the child needs to know 20 to 40 different uses for each common preposition. In the Cued Speech Resource Book, a reference I came to rely on, Dr. Orrin Cornett suggests that such a child might read a sentence something like this:“____ years ago, ___ man _____ __ flashlight _____ prowling _____ ___ ______ coral caves _____ Bonaire, ___ _______ island in ____ southern Caribbean” (248). Perhaps more important for the deaf child than the difficulty of learning sounds associated with letters (phonics), is the difficulty of patterns of words grouped together. English word order and syntax are often impossible for the new deaf reader to access, while her hearing peers have heard these patterns millions of times before, from infancy onward. Finally, the bulk of the language we use in daily discourse is idiomatic in one way or another. Idiom is notoriously troublesome for any learner of a second language, and ASL natives learning English are no exception.

ASL is a complete, complex language of great beauty, and it is indeed the carrier of Deaf culture in the United States. It is my hope that Lena will learn as much ASL as she desires, and make friends with others who are deaf. However, there is no correspondence between ASL and written English; they have different vocabularies, very different word order, and are based on completely different modes of presentation – space and sound. There is great value in having friends with similar experiences and points of view. If I had been a Deaf mother, perhaps I could have raised Lena with ASL in the home, giving her a fluent and natural language model at a level high enough to bring her English as a second, written language. However, to become that fluent in ASL would have taken me years of constant, daily immersion in the Deaf community, just as it would with any other foreign language. As a hearing mother with no previous involvement in the Deaf community, I could only be a competent language model in English, my native tongue. English, then, also had to be Lena’s mother tongue.

The second option available in our area was Total Communication. This is a mode that pairs ASL signs with spoken language in English word order. Sometimes signed "endings" are used to show grammatical changes such as verb tense or noun number. Those who use Total Communication believe that it allows children to learn to read, write, and speak in English sentences more easily because of the grammatical similarities. Unfortunately, there is no evidence to support this claim, and older deaf children raised and taught in Total Communication environments fare no better on standardized tests than do ASL children. Furthermore, signed English is not the same language as ASL, so the Total Communication child still must learn a more standard and complete form of sign language in order to communicate with the larger deaf population.

I soon became exasperated with the prospects of my future child ever achieving college-level reading and writing, since she was beginning so late in her development and would for a few years have a new, non-native, even incompetent signer as her mother and primary language model. Still, it seemed to me that excellent reading and writing skills are something especially desirable for a deaf child in this media- and text-driven world. I did not give up.

 

The eight handshapes of Cued Speech (repeated twice)
The eight handshapes of Cued Speech (repeated twice)

My next area of exploration was Cued Speech, a method developed in 1966 by Dr. R. Orin Cornett, Ph.D., at Gallaudet University (please see links on the Works Consulted page for more information). Cued Speech is a visual communication system using only eight hand shapes (“cues”) to make the mouth movements of speech look different for every sound. A simple hand-cue beside the mouth, for instance, could tell Lena whether I was saying /mama/, /baba/, /papa/, or even a nonsense word like /maba/ -- all of which look exactly alike on the lips. Using one hand, the hand shapes of Cued Speech identify consonant sounds, while one of four locations of the hand near the mouth identifies the vowel. A hand shape and a location together cue a syllable. Advocates of Cued Speech told me that children raised with this mode of English typically have receptive English language skills equal to their hearing peers, even to the point of scoring the same as hearing students on the SAT. They read at the same levels as hearing peers, using the same reading strategies. The only other method currently in use to visually represent phonemes in English is a system called "visual phonemes," which assigns a separate sign to each phoneme in English, some of which are a visual and tactile reminder of the way a sound is produced in the mouth.  Visual phonemes have proven useful in teaching signers to "sound out" words from print, but it is too cumbersome to use in everyday communication.

I found that there had been many of cases of children raised in the oral method, who at age six or seven with huge language delays, made up the deficit in three or four years using Cued Speech in everyday communication, and as a result became good readers. It would not take years to master, only a weekend workshop for the whole method. Although it would take several months to become fluent enough to cue at a normal speaking rate, Lena would need the slower pace at first anyway. Even if we decided to add sign later, Cued Speech was compatible with other methods incorporating the spoken word in any way. Finally, using Cued Speech would teach English to Lena in such a way that it could become her native language, and the intuitive ease of understanding English vocabulary and word-order would likely enable her to become an excellent lip-reader. The choice was made, and we have not regretted it.


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