I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be a Mother's Day without a post from me about it. I actually wasn't going to this year. I've pretty much said what I wanted to in previous posts. Granted those posts don't exist online anymore because I did a blog reboot, but I still got it out of my system. Mostly. I will end this with a bit of a PSA that I like to give regularly. But really, what drove me to my blog today was my students.
When I got up this morning, I was feeling melancholy but not weepy. For once, I thought I was going to make it through church with my "public face" intact. Then, as one of the speakers was up there giving his talk, I started thinking about the kids I do have in my life. I absolutely despise the "every woman is a mother" line (see PSA at the end), but I do play a very large role in a few special kids' lives. To understand that role, you need to understand the life of the average deaf American child. (And possibly other countries. I just don't know, so I can't speak to that.)
95% of deaf children are born to hearing parents. And while there are no absolute numbers that I know of, VERY few of these parents learn to sign. Anyone who is involved with the Deaf community in any way can attest to this. I can't go into specifics in a public venue due to confidentiality, but suffice it to say I can estimate the number of families that sign, and I would guess it's under 20%. These kids go home and sit at their computers/tablets/phones/TVs in isolation. That's not a life I even want to imagine living, but it is what I see every day.
This means that as Deaf Educators, we develop relationships with our students that are perhaps even more meaningful than the relationships they have with their families. Now, it's important to note that most of these parents do clearly love their children. There are many extenuating circumstances and situations that I probably don't even know about it that are obstacles in learning to sign. I have some pretty strong opinions on this issue, but I never want to discount the love the parents have their children. And their children love them in return. They are family, after all. But the fact remains that without language, that love is hard to convey. Those relationships are almost impossible to form. So when you can communicate clearly with a person, a bond forms. A bond that has only strengthened for me by virtue of the fact that we have had years together.
Well, this is their 5th grade year. In just a few weeks, they will be graduating and leaving me. I knew this was going to be hard for me, but I got a taste of just how hard today at church. I thought about these students and how deeply I do love them. I want to take them home with me. I want to give them all the language and experiences that they are missing out on. I want to play an even larger role in their lives as they prepare for adulthood. But the fact is, they are not mine and I can't. And that hit me in the gut today. I will see them occasionally over the next few years, but it is almost certain that eventually I will just be a memory for them. I hope it's a good one, but a memory all the same. With a prayer and A LOT of determination, I managed to hold it together for the hour I stayed at church. Then I went home. It was just too much. Maybe next year will be the year I stay the entire time.
PSA Time: Please, please, PLEASE don't tell a childless woman who is hurting that "all women are mothers" or "it takes a village" or anything else along those lines. I know you think you are offering hope and encouragement, and I do appreciate the feeling behind the words, but the words simply hurt. I don't want to be a mother figure to someone else's children. I want my own. I can't raise a child the way I want to when they belong to someone else. I do somewhat fill the hole at my core by being an influence in the lives of children, but it is only a partial filling. They are not mine, as much as I might wish some of them were, and all the words in the world won't change that. A hug. A "that would hurt, and I'm sorry you are hurting." A invitation to do something fun (because singles rarely get invited to do things with the married women and that hurts too). Those all work. Empty words really don't.
P.S. to the PSA: Also, asking if I want to take yours because they are driving you crazy doesn't help either. I am happy to babysit if I am available. I do like to use my relative freedom to help those in need. But you aren't seriously offering me your children. They are still yours. And it still hurts that I don't have my own.
Disclaimer to the PSA: Not every hurting childless woman feels this way. Some are perfectly fine with the sentiment and even offer it themselves. (Although that one is hard for me to understand--how do you not know?!?) But I know many who feel hurt by this. Those words hurt me, and it's my blog. So I share. :)
