Though Deaf and Blind, I Found Security/AS TOLD BY JANICE ADAMS

Sent Away to a Special School

My parents chose to enter me in the Central Institute for the Deaf (CID) in St.Louis, Missouri. Despite the great financial cost and the heartbreak of sending me away at the age of five, they figured that this was my best hope for a successful happy life. My parents and I really could not communicate at that time.

I watched my Mother pack my clothes in a trunk. The journey by car seemed endless. At CID, I remember seeing the other little girls with no mothers and thinking, 'Oh, I won't have to stay here because I have a mommy and daddy.'  When it came time for my parents to leave, they tried to explain that they would come back in a few months. I cried and cried and held onto them tightly, but the housemother pried me away so that they could leave. 

I felt abandoned. Alone with the other girls on our first night at the school, I tried to comfort a crying baby by pretending to talk to her, although I couldn't actually speak at the time.  The housemother scolded me and set up a divider between us so that we could not try to communicate.  The wall remained there for then on. the isolation was crushing.  

Gradually  I figured out that all of us were there because we could not hear. Perhaps my parents loved me after all, but I reasoned that it was my fault that i had failed  preschool. I was determined to succeed this time and one day return to my family.

The education at CID was excellent. Although we were not allowed to use sign language, we were given lots of individual instruction in lipreading and in speaking. All  the subjects taught  in regular schools were emphasized as well. While I believe that the oral-only approach , as it is called, does not work well for many deaf children, it worked for me, and I felt successful.  With my hearing aids, I learned how to make sense out of the mouth movements and muffled sounds of others' speech. My parents and the school were extremely satisfied with my success. Still, I longed to be back home. 

Each summer vacation I would beg my parents to let me stay home and go to school in Iowa, but there  were still no local programs.  After I returned to school, Mother would send me a letter each day and include a stick of chewing gum. How I treasured that gum because of the love it represented! Rather than chew it, I would save each piece, and I especially cherished them when feeling depressed. 

Next time: Though Deaf and Blind, I Found Security/AS TOLD BY JANICE ADAMS - Home Again, but Problems Arise

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