Be the Change

Deaf students have challenges.  From Gallaudet University Press: 

Most Deaf and hard of hearing children have parents who are not Deaf or hard of hearing. According to Mitchell and Karchmer (2004), 92% of Deaf children are from families with two hearing parents, and 8% have at least one Deaf or hard of hearing parent. Only 4% of children have two Deaf parents. The high percentage of Deaf children with hearing parents is significant for several reasons. Although a signed language may be the most logical choice for a student who cannot hear a spoken language, most hearing parents with a Deaf child do not know sign language. Some researchers suggest that “young deaf children of hearing parents frequently do not have any truly accessible and competent language models, either for sign language or for spoken language” (Marschark, Lang, & Albertini, 2002, p. 12).

(More Than Meets the Eye:  Revealing the Complexities of an Interpreted Education)

Good numbers simply do not seem to exist, but very, very few hearing parents with deaf children sign at home.  Deaf children often do not have consistent access to language until they enter the school system, which at its earliest is typically 3 years old.  As it turns out, the ages 0-3 are some of the most critical years for language acquisition and development.  Even then, they still don't have the access at home that their hearing peers do.  This creates significant social and academic delays, to say the least.  My job as their teacher is to figure out how to overcome those delays, and it is a daunting task.  Insurmountable, at times, and certainly frustrating.  We as teachers have so much influence but so little at the same time.

I, with my colleagues, have often bemoaned the disadvantages our students have as well as the effect that has on us as teachers.  But now that I am halfway through my 3rd year, complaining about things that are not in my control is not productive and something I don't care to engage in anymore.  Those complaints aren't going away, and I can't pretend that I will never do it again, but I ache for something more.  A solution I can be a part of.  

So I turned to research.  Lots of googling.  Lots of reading.  Lots of frustration again, but this time it is because the research just does not seem to have what I am looking for.  There are pieces here and there, and certainly some good ideas I hope to implement.  But the research-based, large-scale impactful changes are lacking.  I have talked with like-minded coworkers to see what they are studying, and they seem to be in the same boat.  The buzzword these days is research-based best practices, and it's a buzzword for a good reason.  We want to make sure we are not doing simply what is good for our students but what is best, and the way to go about sifting through all that is out there is through data.  But what do you do if the data isn't there?  How did the pioneers get the data in the first place?  Where does this research actually come from?

All of these frustrations and questions have brought me to my post title:  Be the Change.  This was already a bit of a mantra for me within the work I do to improve life for singles in Houston.  I am now thinking it might be time to apply it to my professional life.  If the research doesn't exist, then perhaps I need to change that.  Perhaps it is time to consider doing it myself.  I can't even express how much fear that instills in me.  It would require at the least a certification but preferably a masters.  I don't really want to go back to school.  I enjoy NOT working and being a student at the same time.  It is also a math-heavy program, which is not my forte.  My top fear is money.  I have other places that I want that money to go to.  I am enjoying fixing up my house the way I want it, and I don't really want to stop doing that.  And yet maybe I am being called to serve the people I love in a different way.  Maybe I am being called to serve in a way that will leave a true legacy...

Obstacles In My Way...To The Bathroom

Thanks to some bad weather and a school cancellation, I actually have some time to look at my blog again...how was my last post in November?  Is that even possible???  I really need to find a regular time to do this...

It's time to get real about one of the less polite realities of life:  the inconvenience of having to go to the bathroom.  Especially when at a movie.  For some reason, my bladder has the uncanny ability to know when I'm at a movie and decides that's a problem. Every. Single. Time.  I can drink nothing for hours beforehand.  I will still need to interrupt my movie.  I can go before leaving the house and right when I get there and still, movie interrupted.  Of course, this doesn't happen at home when "pause" is an option.  Nope.  Only at the movie theater.  And always about 3/4 of the way through.  So the exciting part.

Recently I went to see "Jumanji" with my mom.  Of course, at the final climactic scene (about 30 minutes to the end), that familiar sensation hit.  I refused to give in.  I literally sat at the edge of my seat and danced in it up until the end.  The credits hit, and I shot up.  People were standing and chatting to my left.  Okay, that's the fastest way to the door but the right is an option as well.  I look to my right.  Same.  Frustration and fear of impending disaster started to bubble up.  I resolved not to give in--a solution would be found!  I (politely) pushed my way through the people on my right--including my mother--and practically ran down the steps.

From there I still had a turn to the left and a bit of a walk to get to the door.  I made that turn and saw, again, a crowd of people causally talking and SLOWLY walking to the door.  Whatever.  I'm a small person and am actually quite adept at weaving in a crowd of people.  I can find all the small spaces to squeeze through.  Seriously.  Ask my roommate.  She and her boyfriend were impressed at a concert we went to together.  ANYWAY, I get down there, start plotting out my path, and a lady pulled out her walker.  Her walker!!! In my way!!!  I can't run the risk of mowing down an older woman with a walker!  So I continued my potty dance until I could find a way around this mindfield.  And find it I did.  Until...

I turn into the bathroom and see a line.  Of children.  I don't think there was an adult in that line.  At this point I really was courting disaster.  I REALLY wanted to run those kids over to get to the front of the line.  I was so close to doing it.  Then I thought of how that would look on the news.  "Teacher of Children Maims Them Rushing to the Front of the Line."  Not good.  I am pretty sure my posture looked like a balloon that just popped.  All the air rushed out of me and I just sagged with the weight of my fate.  Then I turned around...

And angels started singing.  All the lights in the hallway dimmed except one:  the one that says "Restrooms" at the other end of the small theater.  The air was back in my balloon.  I practically skipped my way over to the line-less bathroom.  And I am happy to report, this story had a happy ending!

Dating According to Amanda: Rules

If you're single and have a blog, you HAVE to include posts on dating, right???  So here is the first in what is likely to be a series, since it is a big part of this stage in life.

I've never liked dating, mostly because I never really dated.  I spent A LOT of time before I got married watching friends go on dates, get engaged, and get married while I stayed at home.  Not a pleasant part of that time in my life.  And apparently, I get to go for round 2. 

This particular post regards the rules of modern dating.  Or rather, my cluelessness of said rules.

So much of dating happens within the online world now, and this is unfamiliar territory for me.  I saw an add that made me laugh for the LDS dating app Mutual.  The sense of humor drew me in.  The cost had me downloading it:  free.  It is basically a version of Tinder for Mormons.  You swipe, he swipes, if you swipe the same way it's mutual and you can talk.  Pretty simple.  Except when it's not because there's these unwritten rules you have to follow, the most important regarding timing.

If you match with someone, you shouldn't message them right away because you might be perceived as too eager and clingy.  But if you wait too long, then you're not really interested but just killing time.  Then, once you do message, the chances of getting a message back are somewhere in the 11% range, I think.  However, occasionally magic happens and you get a response!  But don't you dare respond within the first 12-24 hours because of the same eager/clingy reasons as stated above.  Then, once you respond, you have to wait those same 12-24 hours because he's following the same rules when really all you want is a good, more immediate conversation.  So you do this for a few days, and then you decide to take the leap...you message back within the hour.  But you don't get a message back right away.  So you stress.  Was it too soon?  Should you have waited a few more hours?  Did you scare him off?  You wait.  Nothing.  You wait.  Nothing.  You write it off as yet another failed attempt when lo and behold, your phone dings!  You have a message!  The conversation continues, and you're getting to the point where you'd like to take it to the next level:  FaceBook.  Is he ready for this?  Should you ask?  Is that being too stalkery (enough though you've already tracked him down and memorized everything you could find)?  What do you do?!?!

Guys, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING HERE!!!!!!!

Bring the Popcorn

Sundays are rough, ya'll.  And for some reason, they are getting worse.  So I had planned this great blog post all about the trials and tribulations in my life right now that I experience once a week.  While I'm sure that's coming soon, I decided to go in a different direction for this one.  I was decompressing with a little HGTV, and inspiration struck:  We need to have a conversation about House Hunters.

I love this show.  Seriously, I could watch a marathon all weekend.  But part of the reason I love it is to hate-watch.  Really, who ARE these people?!?  They must have:

•  a white kitchen with granite countertops.  Yes, I just described my own remodeled kitchen, but white wouldn't have been my first choice if I had had a bigger or brighter room.  That and I didn't turn up my nose at the house when I saw the existing cabinets and counters as completely unworkable and needing a complete "gut job."  
•  hardwoods.  I have tile.  Which I really don't like, but it's just a floor.  It does its job, so all is good.  
• open concept.  I had open concept in Georgia, and one thing I LOVE about this house is that you can't see the dirty kitchen from the front door.  I also love that the living room/kitchen/dining area are mostly open to each other but have a little bit of a division.  It's nice to leave dishes behind and just relax on the couch after dinner with friends.
• 50 gajillion square feet for parents and one kid.  Because kids can't share a room.  Or a bathroom.  Ever.
• a closet the size of a bedroom for the wife who can't possibly share with her husband.  Where would she put her shoes if she shared?
• a vintage house that has the open concept with a master ensuite and huge closet even though those weren't even a thing when houses of that age were built.

The list goes on and on. And that's not even touching on the fact the couples can't seem to stand each other much of the time!  Do you watch this show?  Do you like to hate-watch it as much as I do?  Oh!  Another marathon is on?  Bring the popcorn!

Adoption Month

November is adoption month.  This past summer, I started looking into adoption with real intent while feeling absolutely insane to do so.  My world is full of single mothers.  I see how hard it is (understatement of the year).  I couldn't fathom a time in my life where I would willingly choose to join the ranks.  Then about a year ago, I started having experiences where the topic of adoption kept popping up in the most unexpected ways and places.  Several months after they started, I decided to seriously look into it.  I have wanted to adopt a Deaf child for years, so I started my research with international adoption as adopting Deaf domestically is very difficult as the need isn't as great.  After hours of googling and a few phone calls, I determined that international adoption just isn't my path.  At least not right now.  There are considerable roadblocks.  Some can potentially be overcome but some just can't. So, four years later, I find myself coming back to foster adoption.  This is where I was when the divorce happened, and it feels strange to be here again but as a single woman.

Despite real fears, I had confided my thoughts to family and friends.  I thought I would receive push back.  This is certainly not an easy road, and I was afraid I would be thought insane.  Instead the opposite happened.  I have had so much love and support in this.  It is truly amazing to me.  So armed with the knowledge that while difficult I was anything but alone in this, I decided to go to an informational meeting.

I never made it. 

Shortly after I resolved to go, I had a small breakdown thanks to the various stressors in my life.  Then the next weekend it happened again.  And then I wondered how on earth I could even think about bringing a person into my life that I would be responsible for when I couldn't handle life with just me in it.  If I were to adopt, how could I even allow myself these moments--I wouldn't have a partner to pick up my slack in such moments!  Not to mention the considerable stress that would be added to what I already have in my life.  That was it.  I abandoned all thoughts as simply insane.  Rather than adopt, I would just look for ways to be a greater influence in my students' lives. 

Then yesterday I had to wonderful opportunity to help out a friend with one of her children while my friend is out of town.  It was only for a few hours, but I had such a great time.  I know parenting isn't all fun and games, but it just felt good.  It made me feel like I had such potential as a mother.

And so the thoughts begin again.  Am I crazy?  Should I be locked up in a padded room?  Perhaps.  Right now they are only thoughts coupled with strong desire.  I'm not sure where this going--only time will tell that.  It is not a decision I take lightly.  But maybe, just maybe, this is the Lord's plan for me.

Starting Over

Sometimes I forget how much I love writing.  For the past year, this blog has lain dormant.  I kept saying I was going to write, but somehow it just never happened.  The desire was there but not the follow through.  About a month ago, it occurred to me that perhaps this was because I needed to change the purpose of my writing.  Until now, it has been very focused on my divorce.  Maybe it was time to change that focus.  And so I printed what I had and then deleted everything I had written.  This is now my "reboot."  I'm not sure what direction it is going in.  I still struggle with the aftermath of an emotional trauma.  I wish I could say that in the last four years I have found myself healed and whole and healthy.  I'm not.  I still cry--a lot.  Being single in the church at my age just plain sucks.  And I'll probably end up writing more than one post about that particular trial in my life.  That being said, I really do want to be a more positive person.  I want to be more focused on self improvement independent of who is or isn't in my life.  Ultimately, I want to be more Christlike.  So hopefully this new start will be a more balanced perspective on what is going on in my life, and through writing I can achieve that goal.