Inner Lives of Deaf Children: Interviews and Analysis

7. Alex

119 7 Alex Seven-year-old Alex arrived for our interview wearing blue jeans and sneakers. He sported a short-sleeved, white T-shirt, which highlighted his dark tan, black curly hair, and long-lashed dark brown eyes. Alex seemed enthusiastically absorbed in his school environment but somewhat detached from me in our sessions. He participated in the interviews somewhat reluctantly, and I imagined he didn’t appreciate having his classroom activity interrupted. He appeared to be very comfortable in his residential school with other deaf students. Alex was born profoundly deaf and his mother reported the cause to be unknown. His parents are both hearing. He has one sister who is hard of hearing and another who is hearing. Alex uses ASL, his mother is a proficient ASL user, and other family members use mostly Signed English. Alex’s parents are divorced. Alex has no reported additional disabilities.  At the start of our first session, I want to confirm Alex’s willingness to participate. He reports he was not made aware previously that our sessions would take place. I go through my scripted explanation of the purpose of our sessions, and he gives his verbal consent to the videotaped interview. I also introduce the idea of his drawing pictures and telling me stories about them. I look down for a moment at my notes to see if I have forgotten anything. While I am looking away from him, Alex is ready to get to work and he begins looking for the colored pencil of his choice, “There’s no pink. There’s no pink.” He has finished signing this by the time I look up at him. 120 Inner Lives of Deaf Children (As I write this now, I am reminded of a drawing I observed displayed in the hallway of Kendall Demonstration Elementary School. The teachers there, and in many deaf education programs today, incorporate deaf culture into their curriculum. The students at Kendall had the opportunity to create art that demonstrates what they learn. One student drew a picture of an eye with the caption, “eye contact is important to Deaf people.” A glance in the other direction can mean lost information.) I continue my introduction, completely unaware that Alex had said anything, “Later on, after I’ve written my book, then I might give some presentations to audiences who don’t know about deaf children. And, um, . . . I’ll use the stories from the children in the book to tell them how deaf children feel and that’ll help them learn something. Okay?” “Uh huh. Uh, you don’t have no pink.” “What?” I have been so busy following the rules of consent to participate that I am out of context with Alex. He has been far more interested in drawing than in listening to my introduction. “Pink. There’s no pink.” “Oh, there’s no pink. Mmm, you’re right. I don’t have any pink. Maybe next week I’ll buy more. We’ll have more colors, okay? Well, anyway, if you decide later that you don’t want to help me write my book, that’s fine. You just have to let me know, okay? And today, I would like for you to draw a picture of a deaf boy. Okay? Would you do that for me?” “Deaf? A deaf boy?” “Yeah. You want to draw a picture?” “Uhh.” He seems a little stuck. He clearly is eager to draw, but perhaps drawing a deaf boy is not what he has in mind. “Well, what do you want to draw?” “Umm.” He thinks about it for a moment, then says, “I’ve got an idea.” Alex draws a picture of a flower. He tells me a story about how the flower will grow as a plant and then with enough rain it will open up and continue to grow. I am uncertain how well metaphors will work with Alex. I decide to introduce a deaf boy into the picture and see what will come from that. Alex 121 “That flower gets really big, and then imagine that a deaf boy, a person, a deaf boy would come, and what would he do . . . what would happen?” “Well, it rains and rains and rains.” “But what about that boy . . . ?” “Well, he’d water it and put the seeds in and water it and it would grow . . . It’s started to open up, and...