(Preschool) Lessons Learned

This summer, my 3 1/2 year old twin boys did a three week session of preschool, a mini introduction of what to expect come September when they "officially" start. (If you ask them, they will tell you they are now on summer vacation. That's right, 21 hours of preschool has given them the right to be on break.) We've opted to send them to our town's intergrated preschool as model peers, both because of our own confidence in Hadley's integrated experience and because it's what Conor and Brady selected. I was looking forward to the practice, not out of concern for their transition but rather to help me improve on getting three kids ready and out of the door on time!

While this particular integrated preschool is new to me (Hadley went to preschool in our old town), it's located in the same building where Hadley did K-2, so it's familiar territory to all of us. Conor and Brady got off without a hitch. I'm always on hyper alert when I'm out with my sons for security's sake, so I usually don't have a moment to talk to the other adults. After the first week or so, we were into the routine and I could stand down on my guard a (slight) bit. When I used to wait for Hadley at preschool, I'd join in on conversations about therapies or juggling doctor's appointments: the general topics of raising a child with different needs. This time around, as I looked around the clusters of parents, I realized that, to them, I'm not Hadley-the-girl-with-hearing-aids' mom. None of them know that I've lived through this before with an identified child. The point was really hammered home when one of the teachers very nicely offered to tell me a little more about integrated education and the general needs of some of the kids. For a split second, I kind of felt that the badge I've earned with the years of services with Hadley had been stripped away. I know about this! Really, I know!

So, off we start on the preschool journey for two typically developing boys. It's strange not to be thinking about team meetings or accommodations, prepping the staff on equipment, or evaluating the classroom for any challenges to a good listening environment. And, even though I'm doing it with two kids instead of one (and at the risk of jinxing myself), I'll say it: this is a piece of cake. I keep double checking to see if I've forgotten something, because this is all too easy. You mean all I have to do is send them in with a snack and pick them up on time? With pleasure!

Third grade starts for Hadley next week. She has her teacher assignment, the sound field system is in place in the classroom, and her backpack is already stocked with hearing aid tools and supplies. Conor and Brady start preschool in two weeks. They have their backpacks, snack bags, and extra bag of clothes. Bring on September!

Do You Know the Sign for...?

We have never used sign language with Hadley. We've had our share of (mostly unpleasant) encounters with people who disagree with this decision, and we've had countless conversations with family, friends and strangers, letting them know that a hearing loss is not an immediate ticket to an ASL class. We think Hadley is the perfect proof that children with hearing loss can be fully oral, fully mainstreamed, and fully functional in today's world-- especially with early identification, amplification and intervention.

I've always prepared myself for those conversations and explanations. I worked with Hadley to make sure she could explain what her hearing aids are and what they do. I explained to her why we chose auditory-verbal therapy and the other options that were available. What I never anticipated was that Hadley, herself, would have to answer why she doesn't use sign language.

When people see hearing aids, they automatically think sign language-- even little kids! (Thank you Sesame Street and other children's programming, I guess). This year, as a first grader, Hadley has had numerous classmates ask her to teach them signs. Hadley loves to share information and loves to be correct, so she's been upset to give the answer, "I don't know". At first, she would come home a little angry that kids were asking her questions to which she did not have an answer. We came up with some responses, like "I don't know sign language either". Kids just followed that up with, "Why not?". We came up with a few more explanations: "I can talk just like anyone else"; "I can hear like you when I wear my hearing aids"; "Just because I wear hearing aids doesn't mean I have to sign". We talked about how special it is that she can listen, talk and hear just like other kids. She didn't bring it up again, so I thought these responses were working for her.

Well, I don't know how often this has happened, but Hadley recently let me know that she now just makes up a sign when asked. "It's easier, Mom. I'm too busy to explain everything else" is how she explained it to me.

I'm resisting the part of me that wants her to be the poster child for spoken language...the urge to have her educate the masses...the desire to turn her into a walking billboard for the success of AVT. She's doing what we've always wanted her to do: figuring out for herself how to live with her hearing loss. And for right now, for her, that means making up a sign to answer another seven year old's quick question.

Taking the Big Step: Kindergarten

As kindergarten grew closer, Dan and I discussed more and more whether the local neighborhood school was the best placement for Hadley. While our town’s integrated preschool had been a wonderful place for Hadley, it was located in another elementary school in town. Only Hadley and two preschool classmates would be continuing on in the neighborhood school; her friends would be spread out in the other two buildings. I had some reservations, some related to her hearing loss and others centered around her total education. In addition, our house no longer worked for us as a family of five and we were interested in finding a new home. After some thought, we decided to move to my hometown, 15 minutes down the road. Not only would we be closer to family, but Duxbury had a long history of educating oral deaf children (as opposed to the town we were in) and we knew of two families there with children with profound hearing loss around Hadley's age, both of whom were oral. Two days before school opened, we made the move!


Hadley on her first day of kindergarten, September 2007

Our priority for Hadley was to focus on her social skills. We were content to put academics in the back seat for the year and just wanted to help her with basic social situations that still seemed to mystify her. Like many kids with hearing loss, Hadley loved to control the activity (which makes it easier to anticipate what is being said or done). Kindergartners were less likely to acquiesce to Hadley's ideas, which Hadley took as a personal insult. Hadley was used to adults listening to her and extending her conversation; five and six years old were making giant segues in topics. Hadley missed little social cues; she would sometimes have no idea that her words or actions hurt or angered someone (if she were focused on listening to another speaker). Likewise, she would sometimes imitate the physical behavior of other students, not realizing that the behavior was teasing. We absolutely knew that some social strategies needed to be directly taught to her. As the year progressed, Hadley made improvements in small, but specific, ways.

Additionally, kids were beginning to ask more questions about Hadley's hearing aids. While she was very adept at giving basic information, she was also really tired of talking about her ears. She became more conscious of being different from other kids, although she still enjoyed accessorizing her earmolds and hearing aids-- the kids in her class were always enthusiastic about her colorful and glittery earmolds!

We had always planned to purchase new hearing aids for Hadley by kindergarten, but delayed that purchase as we were interested in learning about several aids that were due to enter the market. When we had last purchased digital hearing aids for Hadley in 2003, options were somewhat limited for a child with a severe hearing loss. This time around, there were more good choices, but we were able to narrow the selection down to three. When we took a closer look at the technical specs, I was surprised to see that there were aids that were actually too powerful for her hearing loss! The market had certainly expanded. In the end, we only trialed one set of aids: the Siemens Centra SP. After discussing it with quite a few professionals, we opted to stay with the Siemens brand, as Hadley had done extremely well with their technology. It took several months for us to get the program just right, but it was clear from the start that Hadley could more easily discriminate subtle sounds. Most importantly for Hadley, she was able to select a new color for the casing: translucent purple!

All in all, kindergarten was a good year for Hadley. We had anticipated what would be most challenging for Hadley and were able to work with the school to bring about good improvement, both socially and emotionally. While not a perfect process, we all felt confident that Hadley would have a succesful transition to first grade in the fall-- especially Hadley.

Hadley on her last day of kindergarten, June 2008